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#Do you just die when you did your part for the greater will?
reasoningdaily · 1 year
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My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.
She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.
Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.
Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.
Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’
That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.
The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.
Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.
Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.
I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.
I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.
—as told to Sean Gregory
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existennialmemes · 1 month
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Ok Long Bill Cipher Rant please bear with me:
Bill is not a Good Person, and he is very clearly abusive to Ford, even before The Divorce™
But, there's an extremely poignant detail that everyone keeps leaving out. When Bill turned violent with Ford, it was not for no reason.
Bill wasn't just trying to get into earth for fun. The Nightmare Realm was disintegrating, and his Found Family would be literally eradicated if he couldn't find them a new home.
Using violence to save your family is an extremely different situation than just being violent to get his way.
He was literally running out of time to save them, and he was getting desperate.
That context is extremely important when analyzing Bill's character. He's not a good person, but he is not evil either. At all.
Additionally, Bill probably thinks it's somewhat normal for the people who love you to hurt you "for the greater good." Because his parents, who loved him dearly, were feeding him poison to make him blind.
The first Terrible Thing we know he ever did, destroying his home world, was done on accident, as a desperate attempt to get the people he loved to stop abusing him.
And he regrets it so much he literally cannot even think about it. He loved them. He just wanted them to love him without hurting him, and it ended up killing them all.
So yeah, he's got some incredibly fucked up notions of love and relationships. And that doesn't excuse what he did to Ford at all.
But there's still an overwhelming difference between "I'm going to hurt you because you didn't do what I say" and "I'm going to hurt you because if I don't everyone I love will die, and pain is a part of love, so this is normal and Fine."
Yes Ford deserved better, but Bill also deserves not to have the nuance of his character erased.
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megaderping · 3 months
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I think one of my problems with the "Akechi dying is better for the themes of P5R and Joker's character growth and mourning" is like... Okay, but what about Akechi? That framing makes Akechi more of an object to Joker's character, IMO, whereas I think that him surviving in the max confidants ending has so much fascinating potential for Akechi having to live with his mistakes and move forward. He went in expecting to die, to have a simple final act of freedom... But I think him being forced to keep living, to face every day one at a time, to find ways to make peace with what he did and live in the world is just infinitely more compelling from a storytelling standpoint. For Akechi, I think it's a better outcome because it's lacking in elegant simplicity. Even if he lives, he was still willing to die for the sake of everyone's freedom. His survival doesn't erase that. It may "lessen" Joker's choice to reject Maruki's reality, but I think it also makes accepting that reality incredibly cruel, when a strong enough bond with him is enough to save his life and make a miracle happen. Mona describes the world itself as cognition. In P5's vanilla ending, he says it was the PT's bonds that allowed him to continue to exist as a cat in the real world. Given the significance of a maxed confidant making him appear in the postcredits, I believe that it is very simple to read his survival being because of that bond. That wish that they both shared, as confirmed by the Royal artbook. If you prefer exploring the grief and mourning, that's completely fair, but I think there are many ways to interpret Royal's themes, and Akechi living in a harsh reality where you can't escape your past but you can heal and do better is still very on point with what P5R is all about. Unlike P3, which centers more heavily on death, P5R simply touches on it as a part of its greater narrative. And even in P3, you can save a certain character from death via player choice and connections. So, yeah. :p
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fortheloveoflatinum · 21 days
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Rewatching Star Trek DS9: Past Tense (The Bell Riots)
The thing I love most about time travel episodes is that the future hangs in such delicate balance. Also - the gentle reassurance that we matter. You matter. I matter. This isn't utilitarian calculus; it's a philosophy that holds that we all have immense intrinsic value and are all capable of shifting and shaping the course of the future.
Spock: [to Kirk] Save her, do as your heart tells you to do, and millions will die who did not die before. - Spock in the TOS Episode, "City on the Edge of Forever."
And Kirk, despite everything - despite his love for this woman, despite what his heart tells him to do - knows that in order to save the Federation and the future he has had such a magnificent hand in creating; if he wants a just and equitable future to be forged, it all hinges upon one small, 'insignificant' woman - it serves to show that the good of the many outweighs the good of the few - Kirk lets her die to save those millions of people - but also proves that the good of the few - or the one - can indeed outweigh the good of the many.
It's a simple, human truth that we are all significant in some way. When we go, it's not what we leave behind that matters - it's how we lived.
Captain Picard: Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives. But I rather believe than time is a companion who goes with us on the journey, and reminds us to cherish every moment because they'll never come again. What we leave behind is not as important how we lived. - Picard in the movie Star Trek: Generations.
And in the DS9 episode Past Tense: Parts I and II, this fundamental truth is also proven true. That one person - any person, every person - matters. Not because of the wealth they've accumulated, not because of their fancy house or their six-figure salary or their corner office - but because they smiled at a crying child, because they sparked hope in the hopeless, because they were kind, because they were generous with their time and because they lived to serve the greater good.
Life. It's not about what you own - it's about who you touch. Even transported to a barbaric 21st century too much like our own - with just the clothes on their back - even their combadges stolen - Doctor Bashir and Captain Sisko touch people. Their presence changes things. So much so that the ripples of their actions change the future for every Federation member, because Starfleet is gone and all that remains of it is the crew of the Defiant.
I remember the Ray Bradbury story, "The Sound of Thunder," with its eminent metaphor of stepping on a butterfly and altering the future. But what if we step on a butterfly in the present? Surely, the future is altered. Everything we do - matters. Everything we do has ripples across the timeline of the future. None of us are islands unto ourselves. This tangled web we weave, it's a tapestry and its threads are those of the people we've loved, everyone who we've ever known and whether we were cruel or kind to them matters.
What can you do? Start by smiling. A smile from a friendly stranger can save a life.
Michael Burnham [to Spock]: “There’s a whole galaxy of people out there who will reach for you. You have to let them. Find that person who seems farthest from you and reach for them.” - Michael Burnham in that one Discovery episode where they go to the future and also there's an epic war going on in the background
Reach for someone, anyone; everyone. Only then can they reach back for you.
Be kind, to the Earth, to each other, to all creatures. Don't step on butterflies or kill bees.
What can you do? Watch Star Trek, and live by Starfleet values. Find a moral compass, and let it guide you. Remember that science and education are the answer, just as much as peace on Earth and - eventually - beyond.
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firelilyfox · 7 months
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Nightmares & Soft Words
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Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings : fluff / mention of loosing someone / mention of war / teasing
You had a nightmare & Paul comforts you
(English is not my first language so please excuse spelling and grammatical mistakes)
Words : 1033
______________________________
Your breathing is shallow as you wake up in the middle of the night because of another horrible dream. Beside you lays Paul who is still peacefully sleeping. His dark curls have managed to fall all over his beautiful face and you resist the urge to touch it to remind you that you are back in reality. Weeks have passed since you were able to sleep peacefully. Too much worries and sorrows filled your mind with fear.
Fear to loose Paul. Fear to see all your friends die. Fear that this brutal war will never end. 
But you haven’t told him about any of that. Paul has such a big responsibility to carry around, that the thought alone telling him about your stupid litte nightmares was pathetic. He deserves to rest and not have to think about his girlfriend being anxious about something that hasn’t even happened yet. 
You take a last look at him and deciding to go for a litte walk through the halls of your underground home. The massive, old stonewalls always seemed to calm you down since you were a little kid. You imagined all the stories that they had been witnessed and all of the Fremen that were here before. 
Every footstep of yours sends a little echo through the empty hallways and while you let your thoughts run free, you somehow find your way to the waters of the souls that died for the greater good. Normally this place would make people sad, but for the Fremen it is a great honor to still be a part of the remaining for eternity. 
The torches on the walls flickers and their light is reflected by the water, wich made the big hall looked warm and gloomy. Before you could take a seat near the water, something catches your attention. Paul was leaning against a wall right behind you. The look on his face made you nervous. 
„Why are you up? Did something happen?“ 
He comes towards you with a frown. „That’s what I should ask you, Y/N. What are you doing here in the middle of the night?“ 
„Oh it’s nothing. I-I just needed fresh air“, you shrugged. 
Paul shakes his head with a smile of disbelief. „You are terrible at lying, love.“ He puts his arms around you and pulls you closer to him. You let him, but still trying to avoid direct eye contact. You are more than sure about the fact, that Paul would be able to see all the horrible things you dreamed about in less than a second. So you just leaned against his touch and trying your best to put on an effortlessly smile for him. 
„Really it’s nothing. Maybe I ate something wrong or haven’t drank enough. We should go back to bed.“ You are trying to get out of his grip, but instead you can feel it tightened around your waist. 
„I won’t let you go anywhere now, until you told me the truth. You seem upset and I will be dammed if I let you go back to sleep like that.“ Paul puts his finger under your chin to force you softly to look at him. That’s when you start to tear up a little. „Talk to me, love.“ 
You sigh. „I had a nightmare again.“ 
His thumb softly wipes away a tear that was rolling down your cheek. „You haven’t told me you were haunted by nightmares before.“ 
„I didn’t want to stress you about something pathetic like that. With all that is going on with the war and the revolution right now … and the Fremen seeing you as their leader … there is no room for something irrelevant like that.“ 
Paul shuts you up with a soft kiss on the lips. Your hands grabbing the thin fabric of his shirt to hold him close to you. 
„Never say something like that again or I’m forced to use the voice on you to get rid of that stupid idea that your nightmares are irrelevant or that there is no room for you coming to me with your problems.“ His words were determining but his voice sounded so very soft, that your heart melted a bit. „I couldn’t possibly do any of this … crazy Lisan al Gaib stuff without knowing that you are alright by my side.“ 
You couldn’t hold back a little smile. „You are very good at finding the right words, Usul.“ 
You using his Fedaykin-Name always had the impact of lightens up his gaze. It reminds him, that you two are very much equal and that he is a part of something worth fighting for. 
„Now tell me what this nightmares are about.“ 
And you did. You told him everything while going back to your room and he hold your hand the entire time. The words came out like a waterfall but now that you hear them out loud, they not seemed so scary anymore. You felt the moment the tension left your body when the two of you got back to bed, lying next to each other so close that no nightmare can come between. 
„If you ever have thoughts like that you need to tell me, love. It is unbearable to me if I can’t be sure, that you and that pretty little head of yours are doing okay.“ He tapped his finger against your forehead. „Do you understand?“ 
„I do understand. But for now…“ You say while you sit up again and take a seat on his lap with spread legs. Paul leaned back on his forearms, admiring you as if there is nothing more beautiful in this world. And to him, there is none. „For now my head is doing more than just okay.“ 
He gives you a little smirk. „That’s good to know. Maybe there is a way we could make your body feel the same way.“ Paul grabs your hips and you start kissing him passionately while your fingers run through his hair. A dark sound escapes his throat as you are slowly moving your hips to create pressure to his growing length between your legs. 
„We should figure out how good you can make me feel, Muad’Dib.“ 
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xvxni · 5 months
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Hey 😊 would you do a Damon Salvatore imagine where you’re dating but then you leave the house after a fight with him and get in a bad car crash. He feels this and searches for you, just to find you I’m time to save your life. Then he stays by your side, feeling guilty and when you wake up again he’s there taking care of you, apologizes and promises to never let any harm happen to you again? Just some lovely fluff and a bit angsty. Thank you so much 😊
Apology
Summary: Your boyfriend Damon has been acting very possessive and controlling and you get into a huge fight with him. You go out for a drive to clear your head but end up in an accident instead. Damon finds you and takes you home, making up for everything he had done.
ANGST, fluff
Damon being controlling, car crash, reader having a near-death experience
1.5K
A/N: Thank you @imagine-all-the-fandoms for being my first request! I'm so sorry it took forever (this is horrible). Do let me know if this is satisfactory. Happy reading!
Damon Salvatore X Human!Fem!Reader
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Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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Your boyfriend of two years, Damon, was recently being very controlling and possessive. He started making your decisions for you without bothering to consult you, being unreasonably jealous of any male around you and demanding to be with you at all times, not understanding the healthy concept of giving 'space'.
But this time, it ran deep. He compelled your childhood best friend, Jake, to leave town and forget all about you. You caught him in nick of time otherwise you would've never even known about what happened to him!
Deeply hurt and driven mad with rage, you left the Boarding House for a drive after a few broken objects, wounding words and a heavy heart.
You didn't know how, perhaps you weren't in your right senses, you couldn't hit the brakes and crashed right into a tree. The car flipped over, and your arms twisted at an odd angle. Your limp and now-sore body was fastened with the seat belt, and you couldn't undo it. You were hit badly in the back of your head, and you could feel unbearable burn of a deep gash.
Your senses had perked up under the stillness of the night, and you heard a faint trickle. Then wetness across your back, your head, soon trickling down to your neck. It was a strange fluid --- coppery metallic smell, thick and red with a mud-brownish tinge. It was oddly enticing and familiar. A shiver ran down your spine when you realised it was your blood. Blood, so much blood --- your own. You were losing so much blood, and you could do nothing to stop it. You felt faint and suddenly, the hardest thing in the world was staying conscious.
You were terrified. If you were going to die, then it mustn't be like this. An accident. Your whole life snatched away just because of a mistake. God, you had so many things to do in life. Get a job, travel the world, adopt a cat --- ordinary things but they were your dreams, which now lay shattered. You didn't want your life --- and death --- so unremarkable and ordinary. And while all this time, there was a deep wound of regret in your heart --- perhaps greater than the gash on your head --- to part with Damon.
Sure, he could be such an asshole at times, but you knew that he loves you with all his heart. You didn't want your last words to him be an angry "I hate you". You had never really thought about it, what would be your last words to him. You couldn't breathe at the sheer grief that hit you at the moment. Unable to withstand the blow, you closed your eyes, succumbing to a world of endless darkness, getting lost in your way towards the blue-eyed vampire. And you couldn't do a damn thing about it...
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Anger and frustration clouded Damon's mind. It was all hazy, and he was searching for a light. Ah, there it is! Remorse, regret, fear of having losing her. He knew what he did was wrong, but why couldn't she understand? He loved her so damn much, everything he did was tp protect her.
She lived her constant danger because he loved her, and he knew at times that he should let her go, but he couldn't. He needed her to function, she was his damn sanity, and without her, he lost it.
Suddenly, there was this intense urge to go find her, not to waste a single moment. He'll do anything to have her back, she can't leave him. He knew he was unreasonable, ill-tempered and sometimes too controlling, but he couldn't help himself.
He got behind the steering wheel and let his heart lead the way, for it was with her where it truly lay.
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He was aghast, devastated, even. Finding her like this, so near to death, he suddenly came to his senses. He was crying, he realised. He never cried. But that's what she does to him --- make him into someone he never thought he could be.
"Y/N, no! No, no, no!" he wailed, feeling utterly helpless. He undid your seatbelt and somehow pulled you out of the overturned car. Without wasting a moment, he bit into his wrist and forced his blood into your mouth.
You drank for a moment then turned away, trying to sit up but immediately fell back and the sheer exhaustion and soreness you felt.
He was here. He was here, you realised.
"Oh Damon, I'm so sorry!" you sobbed into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and you knew he was crying into your shoulder.
You simply let things just be. In that dark night, the feeling of death heavy around you, the two of you embraced a new life. Of promises of forever, of understanding, of accepting --- and it was beautiful.
After what seemed like an eternity, he composed himself, giving you some strength, too. "Let's get you home, yeah?" he whispered and you nodded. He lifted you bridal style in his arms and helped you into his car. You leaned on him, as much as you could and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry..." he began but your shook your head. He understood. Not now.
You drove to the Boarding House in companionable silence. The silence was golden. The silence spoke it all. And all you needed was the silence.
With his help you went inside. The house that was so familiar --- it looked the same --- but it promised something different.
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"You don't know how scared I was today," he whispered as he rubbed your feet.
"Me too... I didn't want to die like that. Not without saying goodbye, though I wonder if I ever will be able to say it-" he silenced you with a kiss. "I won't let anything happen to you. I want you all for myself, I know that's selfish. I am prick and I don't deserve you, but I do love you very much, so much that it's frustrating, and I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you. I know I make bad decisions, I know I react impulsively, but I do it only for you. I am sorry for today. I had no reason to compel Jake, but I did it anyway because I was insecure. I realised my mistake, I have no reason to be. So, if you have it in you, please forgive me...". Tears were streaming down his face.
You wiped them away and hugged him close.
"I'm hungry," you said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. It made him laugh. "Pasta?"
"Yes!"
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ja3yun · 9 months
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The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY Finale
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sim jaeyun x afab!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), oral (f rec.), pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pet names, dirty talk, i think thats the main stuff, ynjake are so fucking cute so, fluff, reconnection.
wc: 8.7k
synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.
a/n: it's officially over :( i just want to say thank you to everyone who read the series, left comments, and likes! i hope the ending was what you wanted it to be. see you for the sunghoon series!
masterlist
Irony is a funny thing. So is deja vu. As you sit on a train heading home you can’t help but take in your surroundings and laugh at how you have found yourself running away from Jaeyun once again. You find it harder to convince yourself this is the right choice this time, nonetheless. Eunseo is right, you can’t take Jaeyun from Yeoreum. It’s selfish for you to walk in, raise hell, and get your happily ever after, leaving a trail of destruction behind you. You have already caused so much pain and confusion. 
Parts of you know it isn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was going to be there getting married. You did, however, have the opportunity to come clean, to disappear into the wind once again and let them live their happy life, yet you didn’t. Why? 
Selfishness? Ignorance? Love.
It was all for love. You and Jaeyun’s souls are bound by a connection greater than anyone can fathom and as soon as they found their way back to one another you couldn’t stop them from stitching back together, from loving each other. That’s why it feels like dying as you let him go. Just like the first time.
Looking out the train window you see the outskirts of the city you once lived in. It had been a long time since you stepped foot back home and to say you were nervous would be a massive understatement. Pieces of you are scattered around the city, memories of you from a lifetime before. Recollections of your past started to fade the more you were in Pyeongchang, largely due to the fact that you didn’t speak a word of your past to anyone for 4 years. 
Your mind drifts to your mum and dad. Mr. Sim said they had a hard time and that upsets you. In a way, you wish you could go back in time and just tell them not to tell Jaeyun where you were so you could keep your relationship with your parents alight. You have a lot of regrets about that day. 
Stepping off the train you smell the same caramelised nuts from when you were a teenager.
__
When you walked up to the Son family house, it was big, like a mansion. Nothing like your childhood home you were briskly walking up to right now. Carting your bag up the driveway your mouth goes moist, like you’re going to vomit any minute. If you were being honest with yourself you would admit that the anxiety you’re feeling seeing your parents again was overwhelming. If you didn’t know your body you would genuinely believe you might die. 
Tentatively, you raise your hand to the bell, waiting to muster up the courage to press the button. “It’s just your parents, they won’t hate you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you convince yourself to push the button.
The ding-dong from the doorbell shoots fear straight through your chest. What if they slam the door in your face? What if they shout and scream at you? You feel like a kid again who is terrified of their parents scolding them for doing something naughty. Guess it doesn’t matter what age you are, 13 or 23, you’ll always be scared of your mum and dad.
A gust of wind hits your face as the door swings open. Your mum. Your beautiful mum. She was right in front of you and suddenly your throat closed and your tear ducts filled.
“Y-Y/N? Sweetheart?” Her mouth hangs open as she whispers out your name, scared that if she says it too loud you’ll vanish from her. You don’t move and neither does she. 
During this time you look at how she’s aged so gracefully, crow's feet that were slight are now deeper, her forehead is adorned with new wrinkles, and her laugh lines are starting to appear. Your mum didn’t just miss you growing up, you missed her growing up too.
The wind blows around you and it pulls you both out of your trance.
“Hi, mum.” You wave nervously, your voice cracking, “How ha-”
Pulling you into her she hugs you tight, her arms squeezing around your neck as she takes in your scent. She can’t believe her baby is right in front of her. There is an astronomical amount of comfort in her hug, but she might squeeze you to death if she grips on any longer. “Mum…too tight.” Laughing slightly as you shed a tear.
“Sorry, sorry, I just can’t,” Her eyes drag over you and suddenly that sweet and soft look turns harsh and you know exactly what is coming, “Where have you been, young lady? Do you know how many times I called the police to look for you? How much time I spent worrying? My hair has turned grey because of you!” 
You laugh and hug her again, “I missed you too, mum.” Her tense body from the scolding she gave you flutters away, this hug holding every apology and forgiveness in it.
Your dad walks up to the door and he sighs relief. He never did have much to say but as he hugs both his daughter and wife, he says enough. 
“Welcome home, honey.”
___
After what felt like hours of explaining everything to your mum and dad, you finally felt the exhaustion hit you. It was hard to blabber out everything that had happened in the past week never mind the past 4 years. When you spoke about Jaeyun they also told you about how it affected him. 
He was a mess according to them. Jaeyun was never home, looking around every motel, all your friends' houses, and hospitals, he even went to every train station with your picture begging people to tell him if they had seen you. It shattered your heart to know that you did that to him. He said he went searching but somehow hearing it in detail from your parents made it worse, like you were there living it with him. 
Yet, here you are, doing it again to him. You can’t even find peace in the fact that at least he has a life to continue with because deep routed within you, you selfishly need it to be you that he’s with. 
As you drag yourself up to your childhood bedroom you feel the depression you felt that clouded you 4 years ago. It’s heavy and you can’t even be bothered to lift your feet to the next step. Talking about it all just puts everything into a clear and concise perspective.
You can’t have him. 
Opening the door you are hit with a massive wave of nostalgia. Everything was exactly in the same place; your plushies, the clothes you threw out of your wardrobe as you packed, and the posters of Monsta X and Seventeen are plastered along the walls. Suddenly you’re 19 again.
You place your bag down on your desk chair and sigh, beginning to tidy up your surroundings. Now you’re older you understand why your mum was always infuriated with the mess of your room and how she cleaned it for you. You’ll thank her properly for all those times tomorrow.
Walking to the pile of clothes you had on the floor you trifle through them and laugh, your fashion sure hasn’t changed. You haven’t really changed all that much if you think about it. One piece of clothing in your peripheral vision catches your eye. A simple black stretch t-shirt with a Lacoste logo embroidered on the right side. It was his t-shirt. 
Your fingers instinctively reach for it, picking it up gently and bringing it to your nose. Somehow it still smells like him, like the him you had the pleasure of calling yours. Gripping it tight you bury your face into it, soaking his essence up. A memory of the last time you remember him wearing it projects in your head. 
He was coming back from football practice and stopped at your house to see you. You think about how pretty he looked that day with his baseball cap put on backward, a silver chain peeking from under this very t-shirt you’re holding. How could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? 
“Baby?” He said waltzing into your room, still high from a successful practice. You were lying on top of your bed with earphones in.
“Jaeyun!” You beamed and sat up a little as you took an earphone out, “thought you were going to Heeseung’s after practice?” 
“Nah, wasn’t feeling it. I’ve used up my social battery for today I think.” He takes the earphone from you and places it in his ear. 
Like muscle memory, you opened your legs and he lay between them, his head placed on your tummy, arms hugging around you so his palms are placed against your back. 
“Jaeyun, if your social battery is drained, why are you here?” You look down and remove his cap, raking your hand through his hair. His puppy eyes meet yours as he looks up, his chin poking your stomach.
“Babe you know you don’t count,” he plants a kiss on your stomach, “I can never get tired of you.”
Heartache is the only feeling you have right now. Everything was so simple back then and you had to ruin it. How many chances did you miss to lay with him like that because you were stupid enough to leave him? 
All the conversations from the last few days swirl in your mind.
‘I would have made long distance work.’ 
‘Baby, I love you’
‘They don’t want him to marry her.’
‘You’ll make the right choice’
’If those reasons don’t matter anymore, you should do what you think is best.’
‘He would leave my sister for you’
It was all too much and you only had yourself to blame. You can’t shake this heaviness in your chest, the only peace you’re finding is in the comfort of his old t-shirt. 
Slipping out of your clothes you forget about cleaning your room, too sad to focus. If you can’t even clear up your thoughts what chance do you have cleaning this mess up? You strip down to your panties before putting on his t-shirt. It fits the way it used to, it’s slightly baggy and ends just on the very top of your thighs. Something about your body being engulfed in something that’s his makes you tranquil. 
You pull your covers back and slink into bed, the sensation strangely foreign despite the years you slept here. As you get comfortable, Jaeyun’s t-shirt wafts, and it’s like he’s in bed with you.
You cry yourself to sleep and dream of a better reality. One with you in his arms. One where you are his.
___
A loud thump at the door jolts you from your slumber. Someone is pounding at the front door and the sudden rude wake-up makes your heart match the rapid bangs. 
Creeping downstairs to not make a sound, your eyes are scanning the lower ground floor for any sign of your parents, fuck, any sign of life at this point. Your dad always said not to answer the door if they ‘chap it like a copper’ so you’re very apprehensive. 
“Dad?” You whisper shout and another couple of hard knocks scare you again. This is it. You’re going to die. It’s karma for all your mistakes. 
It seems you’re the only one home and you stomp your feet like a bratty child trying to build the courage to open the door. “If I die tell Jooheon I loved him.” You say to no one in particular, just anyone that will head your plea.
Unlocking the door you slowly open it and have your eyes tight shut, ready for the worst. 
“Y/N…” 
That voice. His voice. 
You pry one of your eyes open to see if your ears are deceiving you. They aren’t.
“Jaeyun? W-what are you doing here?” You look around behind him in bewilderment and then back into your house searching for the time. “You’re getting married in like-” Whipping your head around you don’t get to finish your sentence.
“I’m not marrying her.”
Shock pulses through your veins. Guilt pours into your heart. This is your fault. 
Your water line was filling with tears at the thought of you ruining his new relationship, ruining his new life all because you were an idiot. You stayed too long, let yourselves get attached again. 
A scoff of disbelief leaves your mouth and you shake your head. “You can’t be serious?”
Looking into his eyes was the worst thing you could have done. He’s tired and drained, he’s looking at you like you hold the universe. Waves of all emotions crash onto you at once and you try to fight back the tears. 
“I’m so serious, baby.” He steps forward and you step back, “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t run from this. Did you think I wouldn’t come chasing after you this time? I love you, Y/N. I can’t live without you, not again.” 
Jaeyun spent the whole night driving, his first stop was at your flat in Pyeongchang. He begged Eunseo for the address and after a hard slap to his face, she gave him it. Jaeyun asked as a shot in the dark, expecting no result, but Eunseo saw the way he was frantically running around the house looking for you. She couldn’t see three broken hearts from this situation. When you weren’t at your flat there was only one place you would be. Here.
You shake your head full-on crying now and trying to get away from him but he yanks you back until your chest is pressed against his. His lips are dangerously close to your chapped ones. Sucking in your bottom lip you sob and look down, “Tell me you want us. Tell me you felt everything I felt this week.”
His words aren’t registering in your head. All you are thinking about is how this is exactly the situation you wanted to avoid back those years ago, Jaeyun giving up everything he has worked hard for, just for you. “You can’t do that. You can’t leave her.”
“If it meant I would have you back I would do anything. I’d break anyone’s heart to be able to hold yours again.” Jaeyun’s eyes are holding tears as his heart beats loudly in his chest and you feel it softly. Only soulmates can notice minute things like that. His words echo in your head and you sob loudly, covering your mouth. “I’ll ask you again, tell me you want this, us.” He’s begging for permission to love you again, to just be yours again.
Jaeyun’s feelings for you never left. When he went to Busan and attended Apollo College he was a shell of a person with only two emotions inside him longing and love, both just for you. 
“You started your new life for a reason, you gotta live it.” Despite your words trying to separate you both you find yourself practically melting into him, becoming one again. 
“Baby, please,” He kisses your forehead and feels you exhale in contentment at his lips laid upon you once again, “I might be living this life but if I don’t have you I’ll spend all of it failing to get over you, just like I have been.” Lips graze from your temple to your cheek, etching their way to your lips, brushing ever so slightly. “What you asked that night at the club, you meant it.”
Confusion sparks on your face, “huh?”
“When you asked me not to marry Yeoreum.”
Shock. 
You’re in complete shock. You didn’t say that, did you? There is no way did. Jaeyun sees the confusion written across your face. You really don’t remember. 
“I saw it in your eyes, in the way you kissed me, touched me. Y/N, it’s fate that you turned up.” Jaeyun’s lips are touching yours as he speaks, patiently waiting for you to give him the green light to devour you in a kiss. But you don’t.
There is so much to lose. Friendships, families, opportunities. Eunseo meant so much to you, if you take Jaeyun away from her sister you’ll lose her. But you’ll lose Jaeyun if you don’t take this chance. You’d be so selfish to say yes to him, to break Eunseo’s heart. To break Yeoreum’s heart. “What about Yeoreum? What about her?”
“I told her everything,” His big hand is holding the right side of your face now, “about us, about how I felt, that I think deep down we both knew we didn’t want this wedding. I wasn’t over you and Yeoreum wasn’t able to live with a husband that couldn’t be 100% hers. And she shouldn’t have to.”
“But you love her.” That’s what you had always thought.
“I loved that she was a distraction from you. When she and I met I was just hooking up with her,” There is pain on your face as he says those words and he rubs the apple of your cheek, “I know, I’m sorry baby, but you gotta hear me out.” He continues, “It was casual, she was good to me, patient. But no one was ever going to shine a light compared to you. One day she was just…my girlfriend.”
You shut your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t want to hear any of this. Of course, you knew she got to have him and touch him the way you used to, but when someone says it so brashly it makes your skin crawl. Especially when it was coming from his lips.
“I told her I wasn’t over you but she said she could help. After that…” Jaeyun continues to thumb your cheek, hoping it provides some comfort and reassurance. “I thought I fell in love with her. Really I did. I even asked her to marry me but I was just in love with the fact that she made me forget you, even for like a millisecond.” He rubs his nose with yours, sighing and closing his eyes, “Believe me, Princess, when I tell you I thought about you every single fucking minute of the day.” 
You did believe him because you did the exact same thing. Even in your dreams, he was always there. 
“Then when I turned around and saw you at the party on Tuesday,” He bites his lip and opens his eyes, almost rolling them at the thought of you in that dress, “Nothing was distracting me. I kissed her and suddenly all I could think of was you again. Your lips, how you made me feel. Fuck, Y/N, you’re the only one that ever let me just be me. How could I truly love someone that I can’t even be myself around.” 
The sobs in your chest rumble as you hold them in but it’s getting hard to breathe. “Shh, baby, relax.” He can feel you struggle for air and he wraps you tight in a hug, “Princess, I love you.”
As he feels your arms wrap around him and hears you crying, he guides you into the house and kicks the door shut to give you some privacy.
Crying hard into his chest he simply soothes you, gently caressing your back and kissing your hair. It’s all too much for you to process. 
One side of you feels guilty, he was happy with Yeoreum before you showed up. The wedding that was meant to take place today is canceled because of you.
The other side of you feels like it’s floating, finally free of a burden. You can love Jaeyun with all your heart because you have the opportunity to be his.
“Princess, look at me.” Jaeyun’s pointer finger lifts your chin, both your eyes meeting, glazed in water. “I’ve already called off the wedding, baby. Either you have me or you don’t. The decision is yours and I’ll respect it.” He smiles sadly, “but if you say no then I’m single and honestly I can’t bear to download a dating app. I refuse.” Jaeyun jokes to lighten the mood and you laugh loudly, masked in a sob. 
He’s right, there’s nothing really stopping you from being together now. You’re basically graduated, and so is he. He has a job in Busan which is like media hub central so you could easily find work. There is no reason to torture your souls anymore.
“Okay.”
“Huh?” Jaeyun’s eyes widen and dart over every detail on your face, waiting to hear what he wants to.
“I love you so much, Jaeyun.” It’s your turn to reach your hand to his cheek, your palm only covering a fraction of what he covers on yours. “I want to be yours. Forever.”
A second. It took one whole second before Jaeyun’s lips were devouring yours, those beautiful full pink lips pressed hard against your own. Not one thought left in any of your heads other than each other. 
You’re both desperate, clashing with one another. Jaeyun dips down and his hands slide down your ass to your thighs, picking you up so you are sitting on his hands, legs enfold around his waist. Not once did you stop kissing him. 
He carries you up the stairs, his feet moving instinctively and quickly to your bedroom like it was just yesterday. Jaeyun knew the scope of your house in every light and darkness with how many times he snuck in to fuck you late at night or had dinner with your family.
When he reaches the top step he bounces you up so you’re more secure on his waist but as your core presses down on his hardening cock he groans. He missed the way you felt and even this teaser was almost sending him over the edge, tempting him to just take you in the hallway.
Kissing Jaeyun felt like sunflowers blossoming in your stomach and out of your mouth, pouring sweetness and love into every smooch, every tongue flick. He rushes into your bedroom and almost falls over the mess. Fuck, you really should have cleaned your room.
Jaeyun’s hands grip you tighter to stop you from falling, “Sorry, Princess.” He places you down gently and goes right back to kissing you, his hands roaming the soft skin under your t-shirt. 
That’s when he notices what you’re wearing. His t-shirt. One he thought he lost when packing to leave for Busnan, but it was with you. Just like his heart. “I thought I lost this.” There’s a double connotation to his words. Yes, it was about the t-shirt, but it was also about you and your love. You look down and sheepishly grin.
“I found it when I came back here.” You say while his hands take the bottom of the t-shirt and rub it.
A smirk plastered on his face, “Damn,” he tuts, “Here I was having thoughts about you touching yourself wearing it while we weren’t together.” 
Oh, Jaeyun hasn’t changed one bit. Still horny, still obsessed with you. Playfully you roll your eyes. “Bold of you to assume I didn’t have another t-shirt of yours.” 
If a grown man could purr, he would have. Closing his eyes, he had to compose himself for a moment before he busted a nut right there and then. You use the moment to massage your hands up his torso and on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over his nipples. The purr turns into a whine as he grabs you tightly on your waist. “Fucking love you so much, Y/N.”
Jaeyun’s lips are back on yours with force as he pushes you onto the bed, his weight hovering over you. The heat emanating from both your bodies feels like the sun has been turned up by 100, his touches light up your skin, and his lips leave sunburnt kisses all over your neck. The way he’s desperately clutching your skin proves to you how much he missed you.
“I wanna fuck you in this t-shirt but shit, I gotta see all of you, baby.” Jaeyun pants in your ear. He’s like a dog on heat, just aching to have you, to consume every inch of you. His tongue runs down your neck until he reaches your collarbone but you need more than this.
While he’s kissing and biting the base of your neck he’s gripping at the t-shirt that’s covering his second favourite part of you and lifting it to uncover your tits. Jaeyun peels himself away from you for a second to admire your figure. God how he has missed your body - the softness of your skin, the way each of your boobs fall slightly to the side when you’re on your back like this, and how your nipples stand proudly. It’s mouth-watering.
“Sit up a bit for me, Princess,” Jaeyun says as he takes off your t-shirt and that’s when he sees the necklace again. He noticed you wearing it the whole week and it made him feel proud, like part of you always belonged to him. His pointer finger holds the chain away from your neck and his smile is beaming. “You never took it off? Like ever?”
“No. I couldn’t” You confess, looking down at it, the sun symbol shining as brightly as the first night he gave it to you. Jaeyun’s smile widened further if that was even possible. Something about you always being branded by him made him feel feral. You were always his and it made him feel guilty because literally yesterday he was getting prepared for his wedding to someone who wasn’t you.
You see his face change to a look you’ve not seen before, “Hey,” Your hand reaches for his face, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. For ever being with someone else.” Your heart shatters. It’s not his fault, none of it is.
“Jaeyun you never have to apologise for trying to move on. I left you without a word, it’s only natural you would move on.”
“But I didn’t. I couldn’t move on.” His hands are massaging your tits as he speaks and it’s sending your brain into a frenzy. It’s been so long since he touched you so intimately yet so commonly. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words the love I have for you.”
As his hands knead your breasts he feels your heart skip and it entices him to lean down and kiss you softly. The act between the two of you right now is so pure and raw. It’s meant to be. 
You kiss him back gently, your tongue slipping into his mouth. The taste of him is so delicious you can’t help but moan and your hands rake through his thick hair. Instinctively, your back arches and pushes into him, the motion causing your tits to mold further into his hands, and the flesh spills between his fingers. 
Jaeyun keeps one hand on your left tit while the other slips down past your waist, the pads of his fingers etching hearts into your skin just like that day in the car. The feeling of his gentle touch is making your stomach do cartwheels and your core aching to be touched. You rub your thighs together to create some friction that will help ease the neediness. He notices you wriggling and he knows exactly what you’re doing.
“Am I not going fast enough for you, Princess?” He smirks, his middle finger dips into your pants just enough to sit in the waistband. You’re throwing your head back, preparing yourself for him to touch you where you need him but instead all his motions stop, causing you to open your eyes and go back to looking at him.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“You seem to be pleasing yourself all on your own, baby,” Jaeyun’s eyes fall down to look at your legs rubbing together like they’re two sticks and you’re in the woods trying to start a fire, “Don’t want to interrupt you.” 
Oh, he is evil. It’s been 4 years since his hands have been on you and he still has the reserve within him to tease you. 
Jaeyun sits back and grabs your hand, placing it on his wrist. “Use it.”
“Use what?” You’re genuinely confused.
“My hand. Use it how you want. Tell me what you want since you seem to be so desperate and clearly I’m not doing it right.” His tone is unbothered but mocking. There’s a glint in his eye that’s almost challenging you. He’s so fucking hot.
Taking a harsher grip on his wrist, you open your legs and push his hand to cup your heat. He never let you take charge before so you’re apprehensive but you need to take your pennies before they disappear. 
His hand stays there doing nothing and you look at him expectantly. Why isn’t he doing anything? 
Putting your hand to ghost over his you push it down, his palm now pressed hard against your vagina yet he still doesn’t move. His head shakes as he pouts, “That all you want? Come on baby, I thought you were desperate. Hmm?” Somehow his voice is an octave lower and it elicits your pussy to drip through your pants and onto his palm. When Jaeyun feels it he smirks, licking his bottom lip. “Your bodies telling me everything, but you gotta use your words, Princess.” 
You’re feeling a little defiant, he’s too cocky in this situation and you want to take him down a peg or two. So you press the bottom of his palm to your clit and start to grind on it.
When Jaeyun carried you up the stairs not even 30 minutes ago you thought the sex would be sweet, full of confessions and whispered promises to never leave each other again considering the emotional rollercoaster you both went on this week. But you should have known better, that was never his style. 
The sensation of his rigid palm against your nub was sensational and you were gasping when it rubbed you a certain way. You could get off just by doing this but you needed more. More of him.
Jaeyun can see your internal conflict of whether or not to tell him what you want. He leans down, his breath tickling your ear as he speaks, “Princess,” he nips at your lobe, “give in?”
“N-no.” You’re trying to focus on the pleasure you’re feeling but your entrance is clenching around nothing like it’s talking to you and telling you it needs to be filled by something. Anything at all. Jaeyun. 
He tuts and sighs heavily, pulling back and watching you grind on his hand. “Since when didn’t you listen to me?” His middle finger suddenly rubs in between your folds, ghosting over your hole and you could cry with happiness but he stops as soon as he starts, “Want more of that?”
Nodding quickly you stare at him desperately, your hips never stopping the action that’s giving you satisfaction. “Tell me.” 
It was almost like he was asking you to beg him. 
And that is exactly what you do.
“Fuck, please Jaeyun, I need your fingers inside me.”
“There’s my good girl.” He kisses your temple and his once limp hand now gains its strength as it takes over. Finally.
Jaeyun doesn’t know how he’s restrained himself this long. If he wasn’t so in love with the way you act when he teases you he probably would have fucked you and made you cum 3 times already. But it’s the first time in so long since he’s had you like this, he was going to make sure he gave you everything he had. Showed you just how much he missed you.
After pulling your underwear down, two fingers breach your entrance and you throw yourself back onto the bed, gasping as you finally feel some sort of release. He thrusts them in slowly, gliding them in and out as he stretches you out in a way only he knows how. 
Right now Jaeyun didn’t want to think about how you’ve probably been touched by someone else but god does he love to have his ego boosted, so he asks the question, “You’re so tight, baby. All those other guys not fuck you right?”
You can’t believe he’s bringing this up right now. Of course he would surmise that you probably had sex. It has been 4 years and you weren’t going to go celibate your whole life. But to ask it while his fingers are fucking you open, curling into you like he was gesturing for your orgasm to come closer? He sure did pick his times. You know what he’s looking for, what he is looking the hear.
“No,” your voice was quiet, almost lost amongst the wet noises your pussy was making as Jaeyun picks up the pace, “No one fucked me like you do.”
“Because I’m the only one that can fuck you good. Isn’t that right?” His fingers start to scissor you open further causing you to lift your hips and bury the back of your head into the mattress. Jaeyun’s free hand lays flat across your lower abdomen and pushes your hips back down, the pressure only adding to your gratification. 
He was right though, not one other person ever fucked you as good as him. The way he would listen to your body was otherworldly, always giving you exactly what you craved. All those boys from college just looking for a quick fuck didn’t care about you or if you came. Not like Jaeyun who thought if he made you cum only twice it was a weak night.
“I only want you.” You confess his heart could flutter straight from his chest. Jaeyun had missed the way you would just casually say the prettiest things, especially when you were so fucked out like this. He smiles widely and kisses your tummy.
“And I only need you,” he replies, his lips still lingering under your navel. 
His thumb rubs your clit and you’re seeing stars, a coil erupting in your stomach. Jaeyun feels you cumming and goes harder with his fingers, thrusting them up at a rapid pace just the way you liked and putting pressure on your sensitive bud. “That’s it, Princess.” He talks you through it but you’re too far gone to hear a word he says, “So fucking beautiful cumming on my fingers like this. Such a good girl for me. I love you so much.” He says these cute but filthy words in between kisses he’s planting on your forehead. 
As you come down from your high you don’t get a chance to breathe as you feel your legs being pinned open and Jaeyun’s tongue is lapping up your cum. “J-Jaeyun give me a…give me a minute.” But he doesn’t let up, lost in your essence, drinking your cum like it’s the sweetest thing since honey. 
Your taste has been missed. Jaeyun almost forgot how addicting your pussy is. Messily he starts to lick and suck at your overstimulated nub, he’s eating you like a man starved and you can’t help but be brought close to release once again. 
His tongue dips into you, curling as he slurps up every trace of your last orgasm. Your fingers find his hair to grip on while you moan profanities into the warm air.
“Tug on it, Princess,” Jaeyun instructed and you did just that. Yanking his hair emanated a low groan from the boy between your legs, his hips humping the mattress to try and relieve the pressure in his trousers. If he didn’t make you cum again soon he would spill right into his boxers. That situation only happened once when it was his birthday and you wore those cute frilly pants that he loved. You let him eat you out with them still on, the fabric rubbing against his nose, and when you came all over his face he came in his boxers. 
Jaeyun’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the memory, only spurring him on to devour you even more in this moment. He feels your walls contracting around his tongue so he pulls out and puts his mouth to work back on your clit.
“S-shit, Jaeyun,” The grip you have on his hair tightens, “I’m gonna cum again.”
The smirk on his face didn’t match the butterflies in his chest. His cocky exterior was a mask for how much he was anticipating your release on his face, how he was so giddy with excitement that he got to soak you up, something he thought would never happen again.
“Let go, love. Give it to me.” He wanted to sound confident but he practically whined it, begging for your nectar. He was hungry for it, for you.
His words have you cumming again and the sound that erupts from your mouth has Jaeyun growling into your pussy. He was the one making you cry out in pleasure like that and he was confident no one else ever had. 
Your chest is heaving, pants echo in the room but Jaeyun is still between your legs, cleaning every last drop from you. 
“Jaeyun, please…” You go to shut your thighs but you can’t, his hands forcing them to stay open. He wasn’t done with you but you don’t know how much more you can take. “Baby, I’ve only got one more in me, max.” It’s embarrassing to admit it but you haven’t cum like this in so long, and you wanted to cum on his dick at least once today. 
His big eyes twinkle as he peaks his head up. “What?” He looked so cute you contemplate if you could really cum 2 more times.
Playing with his luscious now slightly damp hair you smile at him, “I can push for one more but I want it to be on your cock.” Almost like your words pulled him out of his trance he smiled, placing one last kiss on your clit before sitting up. 
“Remember you used to be able to cum like 6 times in one night?”
“Yes,” You roll your eyes and smile, “but that was when you had me trained. I’ve not cum more than once in, oh I don’t know, 4 years.” 
The arrogance radiating off him was so sexy. Jaeyun’s ego was the size of a hot air balloon as you disclose the information that he is in fact the only man who can make you feel good like this. 
His hand pets your pussy as he leans down again, “Don’t worry, I’ll train you back up in no time.” 
“Um, Jaeyun?” 
“Yeah?” His eyes meet yours waiting for you to continue.
“Did you just speak to my vagina?” 
There’s a silence and then laughter from both of you. Now that Jaeyun hears you acknowledge his actions out loud he realises how strange it must have looked. He brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck as his laugh gets louder.
“Yes?” He chuckles and places his hands on his hips in embarrassment, “Sorry.”
“Is that a new thing you picked up? Talking to genitals?” You shuffle up so you’re sitting straight, legs spread as wide as the smile on your face.
Jaeyun shrugs, “Sometimes it’s a very stimulating conversation.”
Your eyebrows raise, “Oh really? And what is my pussy saying to you now?”
Crawling towards you he smirks and his puppy-like eyes are blown out with love and lust, “It’s telling me that it needs to be fucked so good it’ll start barking.” You laugh again. He’s so silly and stupid. He’s your Jaeyun.
Once you both stop laughing you place your hand on his face, stroking your thumb on the squishy part of his cheeks. You both look at each other and instantly understand one another. The apologies, the pining, the need, the love. You could almost cry right there and then as his eyes whisper a soulful ‘I love you’, you can’t ever imagine living without him again.
“I love you so much, you know that right? You know I never stopped?” The hand that was on his face now wipes his mouth clean of your cum. Jaeyun wouldn’t have cared if your juices stayed there forever, at least he could taste you all the time.
“I know, Princess. I love you more than the moon and the stars.” Jaeyun’s bottom lip juts out and you take the opportunity to kiss it, sucking it a little and tasting yourself on him. 
Sitting on his knees he deepens the kiss, leaving you breathless. Your hands unbutton his trousers clumsily and he smiles into the kiss. “Want a hand?”
“Shut the fuck up,” You laugh, “I’m distracted.” Jaeyun beams and nuzzles your nose.
Standing up, Jaeyun pulls down his trousers and goes to follow it with his boxers but he swiftly turns around and heads for your drawer, looking to locate a condom. He pulls out the shiny blue packet and examines it, “Baby?” He twirls to you, the packet in between his middle and pointer finger, “You think these have an expiration date?” 
You watch him look thoroughly at the packet. If he didn’t look so cute right now you would be wondering how he can be so bright but so dumb at the same time. “Jaeyun, baby, did you not take sex ed?”
“Huh?” He’s puzzled.
“They lose effect over time? 3-5 years max? Ring any bells?” You’re trying to hold in a laugh as his eyebrows furrow together.
“When did we learn that?” He’s racking his brain for any recollection of the class, then i clicks his fingers and point to you, “Ah, Mrs. Lee. That was the class I made those little boat hats in.”
He was so proud of himself, every time he had the class he timed how many he could make within the hour.
“I think I still have the pink one you made me in here somewhere,” You scour the room to see if it was easily available. “Anyway, you don’t need it.”
“The boat hat?”
“No-” Oh my days he is unbelievable you think to yourself “No the condom you idiot!” You’re shaking your head in disbelief. He is truly so stupid. “You don’t have to use one, unless you want to, of course.” You let him decide what to do. However, you’re patience is wearing thin and you’re getting chilly due to you sitting on the bed naked.  
“Seriously?” Jaeyun never thought he would get to feel your raw pussy ever again. That one time you let him fuck you without a condom was the best thing he ever experienced. With Yeoreum he always wore a condom despite her protests most times. He just couldn’t risk it, being a dad so soon wasn’t worth it regardless of how good it would feel. That and he only wanted to have sex raw with you, no one else. “Are you on the pill?”
“I got a coil put in last year.” You shudder at the memory and pain. It was easily in the top 5 most uncomfortable moments you went through, but right now you’re glad you got it.
“Did you fuck guys without a condom?” His voice is hurt and his arms drop to his side, face frowning. Jaeyun didn’t want anyone else’s cock feeling your walls the way he did. It was his pleasure to have, not anyone else
You quickly shake your head sit up more alert than before, hands flying to your chest as if to swear on your heart. “Oh god no, baby. My periods got like, really really bad. I got the IUD because they said it would help.” How could he think that? You couldn’t do that to him.
Seeing him physically relax eases your own mind. “Okay, good. I was worried there for a second.”
“You never fucked Yeoreum without one?” Her name leaving your lips leaves a bitter feeling in your mouth and his ears. He mumbles a ‘no of course not' and throws the probably expired condom back into the drawer. 
Jaeyun walks towards you with a small smile on his face, relief evident. Now he can make love to you with full confidence that he is, and will be, the only man to ever truly feel you. He steps out of his boxers and you’re almost salivating at the sight, drool threatening to drip down your chin. You’ve missed it so much.
You reach your hand out but he slaps it away lightly. Protesting with a soft ‘hey’ you go to touch him again but it’s the same result.
“Princess, I love that you wanna gag around my cock but I need to be inside you, like, right now.” Your walls throb at his words. His effect on you and your body needs to be studied one of these days.
Before you know it, he’s pushing you to lay on your back, kissing all over your face and neck, each kiss meaning more than the last.
“You’re hearts beating,” You say quietly as he sucks on the sweet spot just under your ear.
“Yeah baby, kinda how I stay alive,” Feeling his smile on your neck as his tongue licks you gets you even wetter than before, if that was possible, “I didn’t miraculously turn into Edward Cullen.” 
“A girl can dream,” You joke. A slap across your pussy makes you yelp and open your eyes wide. “What was that for?”
Shrugging, Jaeyun smirks, “For thinking about another guy.”
“You brought him u-”
Slap.
The stinging on your pussy brings you to a halt. “Stop that!” 
Slap
You can’t deny how much it’s turning you on, the groan that slips from your lips plasters a smirk on Jaeyun’s face. “Be a good girl, yeah?” His hand goes back to your pussy to soothe the nipping.
Having sex like this again was invigorating for him, he missed this so much. He missed you. 
Replacing his hand with his dick he starts to collect your wettness on the tip of his cock. He looks into your eyes for permission to go and as soon as you nod he slips the head of his cock in. “Fuck.” 
The pace is slow as he takes in the feeling of your cunt hugging him so tight, fitting him like a glove. When he pulls back, the tip snags on your hole and he repeats this until your begging him for more. “Babe please, faster.” 
He speeds up, his hips driving into you as he bottoms out each time he lunges forward, his head pecking kisses to your cervix. He’s so deep in you, that the unfamiliar familiar feeling begins to overwhelm you. Jaeyun’s pubic bone is lightly hitting your overstimulated clit and it’s making you thrash under him. “Jae-Jaeyun please,” 
“What is it, baby?” The soft-spoken tone of his words is a juxtaposition to his relentless thrusts that are battering your cunt. 
“Close.” If it was any other time, you would be embarrassed at how fast you’re cumming again, but Jaeyun would understand. He does. 
Jaeyun spits on your folds and rubs it in, focusing on your clit to bring you over the edge. The sensations are too overwhelming, between his fingers roughly rubbing your bud and his cock bruising your walls, it’s all too much and you’re cumming for the third time that day. 
The squeeze of your walls nearly has Jaeyun spilling into you but he wants this to last a little longer. “That’s it, Princess. Cumming over my cock so well,” He kisses your forehead, “Such a perfectly good girl for me.” 
Jaeyun’s lips trail down your face to your neck to your tits, his mouth taking in your right nipple. “Fucking hell, Jaeyun.” He can’t hear you because he’s too busy sucking your tit and losing himself in consuming you. 
His hips are jackhammering into you and you can’t think straight, your mind is foggy, mouth wide open, eyes have rolled back, and hands aimlessly gripping at his back and arms. You haven’t been fucked like this in years, hell, you don’t think you and Jaeyun have ever had sex as good as this. 
Jaeyun mentally agrees with you as he starts to lose his rhythm but still gives you his all. His mouth leaves your nipple as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, “Fuck, Y/N, can’t hold back anymore.”
Despite his energy depleting, his thrusts are still sharp and his hands are holding you down by your hips, leaving you no option but to just lay there and take his powerful hits. Not that you minded, this is exactly how you like it.
You don’t truly believe it but you think you might cum again. To make sure you get there in time with him you reach down and rub yourself, mewling loudly in his ear at the feeling. 
Jaeyun’s head peaks up to look at you, “You gonna cum with me, Sweetheart?” The nickname isn’t used often but when he does whisper it, it’s your favourite one.
“Y-yes oh god yes.” 
Jaeyun kisses you hungrily as your words help him spill his seed into you, the white strings shooting straight into you and it mixes with your own release. You both chant each other's names along with some expletives, Jaeyun dropping in 2 ‘I love you’s’ just for added measure.
A few minutes later once you both had time to compose yourselves, Jaeyun falls to the side of you and stares at the ceiling. He was so content with everything in this moment. You are back in his arms, he’s just had the best sex of his life, and his heart finally feels like it’s beating with a purpose other than just living. It’s beating for you and that is the best feeling in the world.
“I love you, Jaeyun.” You turn your face to the side to look at him, eyes smiling softly. 
He takes your hand and lays a kiss on top of it. “I love you too, Y/N.” 
None of you have to say any more than that right now. It’s enough.
He sits up and inspects your body, some bruises were his fingers dug in too deep forming and he frowns. He didn’t mean to go so hard but quite frankly he wouldn’t take it back.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Planting a kiss on your head he makes a b-line for downstairs, grabbing a glass of water and some paracetamol for you. 
When he comes back, you’re sitting up, leaning against the headboard with your eyes shut. You’re the perfect view. 
“Here, baby.” After handing you the water and pills he puts his boxers back on and gives you the black t-shirt from earlier. “Almost forgot we’re literally still at your parent's house.” His neck turns red.
“I don’t even know where they are?” You place the water on the windowsill next to your bed and pull the top over your head. Jaeyun hums and stays sitting at the edge of the bed with his head down. Gently your hand makes contact with his shoulder, “Babe? You okay?”
“You’re mine again, right?” He side eyes you because he’s too nervous to look directly at you, “Like, you’ll come to Busan with me and be my girl again?”
Your heart summersaults and you smile reassuringly. You couldn’t imagine ever being away from him again. You made that mistake the first time but never again, “I will. I’ll need to finish up Uni but that’s only a few months.” Grabbing his chin you turn him to you, “Then I’ll be home with you.”
Home. Your home.
“Marry me.” 
“What? Haven’t you had enough wedding drama for a while?”
“I’m serious!” He laughs and looks at the ceiling, thinking deeply, “Not right now, but when we’re settled. Be my wife?”
The only thing you can do is kiss him as confirmation, too overwhelmed by pure emotions to give him a verbal answer. This is truly all you’ve ever wanted.
He pulls back and smiles widely. “Wait here!” In the next few seconds, Jaeyun shoved his t-shirt on and pranced downstairs and out the front door. What is he doing? 
Hearing his car door open and shut you impatiently wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long but why is it when you want them to hurry up time suddenly slows down. With his hands behind his back, he enters your bedroom once again. 
“Y/N L/N,” He coughs before he starts again, “I love you more than anything else in the whole world. You’re so stupid and annoying, and honestly, you’re mean.” 
Wow, you think, he’s such a charmer. 
“But you’re mine. My everything to be quite honest. I could have everything in the world and if you’re not by my side there really is no point in any of it.” He sits down beside you on the bed, hands still clasped behind him, “So, would you do me the great honour of marrying me in the distant, but please make it near, future?”
He moves his hands to the front of him and you tear up. Is it what you think it is?
Trembling, your hands take the white box and stare at it. It takes you a moment to gather up the courage to open it but when you do it’s like it opens a floodgate of tears as they ricochet down your cheeks.
The pinky ring he gave you the night before you left shines in front of you. He kept it all these years later. Jaeyun didn’t know why quite honestly because it only served as a hurtful memory. But as he sees you ogle at it, he realises it was exactly for this moment.
“My speech the first time was better I think.” Jaeyun jokes and you choke out a little sob. Taking the ring from the box he slips it onto your left pinky. It still fits perfectly. Just like you and Jaeyun. “So? Will you?”
“Yes.” Nodding your head and wiping your tears with your free hand you give him the answer he’s been waiting to hear his whole life, “I’ll marry you. Eventually.”
His forehead rests against yours. “I’m gonna love you forever.”
“Until the sun stops burning?”
“Until the sun stops burning."
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artist-issues · 6 months
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I feel like someone in Hollywood or the music industry needs to clear up the accusations against Christians. Because when it comes to the narrative, everyone who wants to openly do things that are wrong, and then make those wrong things a name tag of "who I am," likes to use words like "welcoming" and "loved" when that's not what they really mean.
You say you want Christians to "welcome" you, and not ask you to change. Thats so misleading. Do you want them to keep being Christians? Because Christians, by definition, are followers of Jesus Christ of Nazareth...who specifically demands that anyone who comes to Him "denies themselves" and let their old selves die. So what the heck do you mean, Selmer? What the heck do you mean, "Christians say they'll welcome me but it's only if I change?" We're all changing. We all identified one way, with our wrongdoings, with our feelings, and then we came to Christ and that part of us died. It's not about our welcome. It's about Him, Him being Lord, and He said "die to yourself." If that's not what you're actively looking for, if you're not looking to change because you realize you need it, then you don't actually want Christianity. You don't actually want anything to do with the real actual person/God Jesus the Christ of Nazareth. You just want to be in the "social club" you've morphed Christianity into.
Welcoming is not about "can you come hang out with us." It's also not about "can you come hang out with us and feel included and also feel approved for every single choice you make." What? Thats just an echo chamber. Nobody who really loves you in your life will accept every single thing about you and approve every choice you make. How much greater is a love that recognizes when and where you're wrong, is not afraid to call you out on it, and is willing to sacrifice your opinion of them and the comfortable space of your relationship if it means the truth might set you free? Because that love cares more about you, the person made in the image of God, than they do your opinions, or the feelings that lie to you and hurt you.
That's actual love. Thats how Christ loves you. But don't you dare say "Christians don't love and welcome me for who I am: they pretend to, but they really just want me to change." There's nothing pretend about it. It's all very up-front. Christ said "come and die, and when your old self is dead, I'll give you new life." We all did it. He is doing it to all of us. We didn't deserve it. If you don't like it, you don't actually want Christianity.
That is the actual definition of love: putting someone else's needs before your own. Not wants. Not feelings. Needs. That's what Jesus will do for you. He'll say, "I see all of who you are, even better than you do, and all of who you are does not deserve my love or my acceptance; in fact, it deserves punishment. But I'll take that punishment. Because I love you anyway. And I'll clean what's messed up in you, and I'll make you your true self."
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silkscream · 4 months
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CHAPTER 11: POISON ROOT
ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader
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It disgusted you a little bit, needing them like a fiending addict. Living with yourself and yourself alone was starting to get old, though you aren’t sure how much left of you feels whole. You were always fruit split in between a blade, all the gory parts splayed out by the hand of someone greater than you.
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ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, threesome, oral sex, cumplay, phone sex, mentions of depression, angst, descriptions of mild gore
ੈ✩ wc: 7k
ੈ✩ a/n: here's a nice and fat chapter for you before we enter The Dark Ages <3
playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist
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“Sorry, what?”
Yaga scowls at you and you’re unfazed. Mostly, you’re exasperated.
“I’ve repeated myself twice already,” he says calmly. More so brusquely, but you didn’t care enough to gauge his reaction. You’re too busy processing his words.
“I—I know, I’m sorry,” you mutter. “But why me? Shoko’s technique is way stronger than mine.”
“Shoko’s technique is not your technique. And unlike her, you actually engage in combat.”
“Because the boys forced me—”
He brings a hand to your shoulder in an attempt for reassurance. You freeze.
“Your technique is remarkable. Stronger than you think,” Yaga sighs, almost in resignation. He doesn’t seem particularly enthused about what he’s proposing to you, but you consider that you’d probably worn him down over the past half hour.
He rolls his eyes at the look on your face. Mouth parted like an animal struck with fear. 
“But—”
“There hasn’t been anyone with a technique like yours in over ten years. I remember it. I had a family friend as a teacher here first—she talked about a boy that could regenerate cells. Practiced on plants and small animals as a child until he was able to resurrect bigger ones at your age.”
“That boy isn’t me,” you protest, your brows furrowing.
“He isn’t,” Yaga snaps back. “He died, and his death could’ve been prevented. This is why I want you to do this. I want you to be strong enough so that the same thing doesn’t happen to you.”
You swallow and look down, pretending to be interested in your thumbs. Your hands are delicate compared to anyone else’s. You had always admired people who could make something out of nothing, people who sculpted, crafted. Sometimes, you often wonder if what you do could be considered the same.
You haven’t told anyone, but it’s easy to destroy things with your hands. Much easier than it is to build anything up, to heal. 
You’d tried it during long walks through the forest. On your way back from solo missions, you’d take routes that were less traveled, needing to clear your head. Once or twice, you remember finding animals that were victims of hunting. Broken limbs, bleeding out too much for you to save. You’d practice the darker parts of your technique, letting quick rot take away their misery.
“For how long?”
“Just two months. July and August.”
You take a deep breath. You could be alone in Kyoto for two months. The boys would survive. At least, you think Suguru would.
When you tell Satoru the next day, it’s a disaster.
“You’re what?”
“Satoru,” you warn, crossing your arms. 
Dealing with him is arduous. You knew he would react this way. He looks at you with irritation, nipping at your bare thigh just to see you pout. You were in the middle of reading when he had barged in, craving the scent of your moisturizer on your inner thighs. Needed the whipped softness of your flesh squeezed in between his hands after some heated sparring with Suguru.
“You can’t.”
“That’s not your decision—”
“You can’t. What did that old man say? Some other guy had your technique and died?”
“I’m not going to die!” you huff, rolling your eyes. 
Satoru frowns, his blue eyes glowing. He was free of missions for the past week, treating you to dates whenever he could. It seems that you’ve ruined his bliss. That ugly thought in his head festered in his mind again — the need to possess you. Trap you in a glass cage to stay alive forever like you were his enchanted rose.
“Like hell you won’t,” he mutters. “Which is why you’re staying.”
“I want to get stronger, Satoru.”
“You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in the first place! And now you’re desperate to train with your little cell regeneration? Are you gonna dabble in necromancy?”
You frown at his condescending tone. He isn’t taking you seriously. He never does. Satoru has always had his way of belittling others, but he’d sworn to never do that to you given your history. You take a deep breath.
“It’s just… an independent study, alright? This could help me in the future. I could go to medical school with Shoko or something, you know? If you’re so scared of me dying because of combat, then I could just focus on the regeneration part and—”
“And what about the other part? How you make things rot and disintegrate?” he asks you incredulously, nearly snarling.
“That’s another thing I can learn to control.”
“But–”
“I didn’t have private lessons like you! I’m not a prodigy like you. Can I just have this one thing?” you plead with exhaustion. You can see the way his eyes flicker with a quiet rage, his mouth turned down into a pout. Petulant even at his big age.
Satoru sighs heavily. He nuzzles his face into your hand, kissing the heartline. You almost feel proud of yourself for not giving into him before the conversation began. He’d come into your room wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves messily cut off, exposing the hard lines of his stomach. Just a gaze had ripped away your autonomy, brain dumb at the sight of him. 
You wanted to lick him clean before he opened his damn mouth.
“I won’t tell you what to do,” he says in defeat.
“Thanks.”
You sit with him for a while, staring at the ceiling, hair strewn around your pillow. Silence fills the air save for the sound of his breathing. Eventually, he curls into you, nose into your bare shoulder as he mumbles unintelligible things. His mouth in the shape of I’ll miss you.
“I know,” you murmur. “I will, too.”
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Suguru copes by getting buzzed in the daytime. He liked the hope on your face, how the light hit your eyes in a certain way. It meant something more. He knew that you were worth more.
Lately, Suguru feels like less.
Not particularly less than anyone else, though he knows that he’s certainly less than Satoru just by default. He remembers the mission all too clearly—it’s the only thing that haunts his nightmares. The blankness on Satoru’s face, his willingness to kill a group of people just for the sake of it.
He thought he’d lost Satoru forever, that he’d fucked up the mission by letting a bullet go through Riko’s head. But then, of course, Satoru survived. Of course Satoru found a way to bring himself back to life. Everything should be fine, because Satoru came out alive, and so did he. So did you.
It didn’t feel like enough. The taste of curses started to get worse, if that was even possible. Suguru has been starting to believe that he didn’t deserve anything palatable. That the universe was working against him maybe, because his depressive spirals last longer now.
And you’re fucking leaving.
He knows he can have you whenever he wants, but he likes to lick the taste of you out of Satoru’s mouth. 
He bites Satoru’s lip and it makes the boy yelp.
“What the hell was that for?” Satoru pouts. Suguru only grins wolfishly. 
“Thought you wanted me to make you feel better. You don’t like it rough?”
“Of course I like it rough,” Satoru grunts. “But you know I hate teeth.”
“On your dick.”
Satoru pauses, rolling his eyes, then sinks his teeth into Suguru’s neck instead. 
“You smell like a dive bar. It’s fucking 3 pm.”
“Day off, bitch,” Suguru mutters.
Satoru pushes Suguru against the mattress and spoons him, rutting against his ass. It’s always a little violent with them. You used to joke about it—something about dogs and masculinity. Satoru kept wanting to fuck like it was a cage match. Bull-headed, annoying. For Suguru, intimacy always felt like a car crash no matter who it was with.
“You’re not fucking my ass,” Suguru mumbles.
Satoru whines childishly, of course.
“Ran out of lube.”
“Spit?” Satoru begs, his eyes comically large.
“Fuck you, dude,” Suguru scoffs.
“I’m trying!”
Suguru turns to fall onto the bed facing Satoru, then shoves his head downward. He feels numb despite his throbbing cock. He knows Satoru’s mouth is probably watering for him.
“C’mon,” Suguru slurs, unzipping his shorts. “You need to work on giving head.”
“Hey!”
“Not my fault she does it better than you.”
Satoru huffs but leans over the end of the bed anyway, his limbs too long to crouch on the bed. He spits on Suguru’s cock and pumps agonizingly slowly, coaxing out guttural sounds vibrating out of the boy’s throat.
For once, Suguru feels a little powerful when the Jujutsu world’s boy-god chokes over his dick. He looks down and pushes his head down, reveling in the sound of him gagging, throat slack. Not as good as you, but getting better. The drool makes him look pretty. It matched the glazed look in Satoru’s eyes.
Suguru nearly finishes right then and there, the barbed wire inside of his body starting to untangle until there’s a knock on his door. Of course you knock—the polite girl you are.
“S’unlocked,” he calls after you. Satoru makes a noise. Something in between a moan and a sound of protest.
Suguru likes your wide eyes. You’re out of your school uniform, dressed in a white number with embroidered flowers at the hem that hits halfway above your knees.
“Oh… I—”
“C’mere, baby,” Suguru rasps, his hand reaching out for you. He’s so close, threading his fingers through Satoru’s hair before pulling at his snowy mop.
Satoru coughs, his throat raw. It makes Suguru laugh. You watch like you’re outside of your own body, eyes wide. It was easy for them to get you under a spell. 
It doesn’t take long for their hands to grope you, have your dress pooling at your waist so that your bare ass is on display. Heathens. Being with them was always like throwing yourself to the wolves.
“So wet,” Suguru groans, circling a finger in the heat hiding behind your underwear. “Wanted a proper send-off, angel? Gonna miss us all the way in Kyoto, aren’t you?”
You can’t respond when your head is already so dizzy with Satoru’s teeth on your collarbone.
“Don’t talk about that, I’ll lose my boner,” Satoru huffs. 
“What a baby.”
“Stop arguing,” you roll your eyes. 
Suguru decides to be selfish, his dick already out and pulsing from the tease of Satoru’s tongue. He slides it along your folds, wetness pooling right underneath him. It makes him groan, his insides white-hot. He’d been craving this since he’d woken up this morning. The heat was making his moodiness deliquesce into desperation burning like acid in his stomach. He needed you and Satoru like a bullet begging to be lodged, piercing out of a bannister.
“Not fair,” Satoru grumbles, his knees bent as he gropes you. Rutting against the mattress pathetically as he whines, his desperation puppy-like. 
His mouth is salty, leftover from Suguru’s precum. His hair smelled like Suguru’s too—he must’ve been copying his hair routine for the hell of it. It was enough to keep him close without asking to sew himself into the boy’s skin. 
Suguru looks down at you and your blissed-out face, vulnerable before he’s even entered you. Your mouth is wet from Satoru’s kisses, spit drooling out of the corner of your pink mouth. Suguru smears it around and already imagines himself pulling out of you to finish there instead, just to see it on your lips. He’d like to see you cry again one last time.
You hum when you’re filled with him. Stuttering hips hitting slack thighs. Soft despite the violence inside him, the little voice in his head taunting him to wreck you. 
He likes you like this, first. Daisy-soft, his fingers in your mouth until you gag. Yelping in time with Satoru’s stupid whines. 
“Twigs,” Satoru breathes, his hot breath fanning your jaw. “Can I put it in your ass?”
You groan, shaking your head as Suguru howls with laughter. 
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July, 2010
Gakuganji has you on a leash. It hasn’t even been a week and you’ve already gone on two missions, each that ended with you covered in blood, but luckily unscathed. Satoru would have a fit if he knew. The ghost of him hovers on your shoulder at your weakest moments — taunting you, challenging you. You know he wouldn’t be as cruel if he was with you physically, but your psyche conjures him in a way that feels like punishment. 
You can’t escape him, either. He’s needier than you expect — visiting you during off times during your weekends, treating them like serendipitous encounters. You don’t believe him, and you shouldn’t. 
(He warps to you when he gets in fights with Suguru. When he gets too horny to find someone at a bar, because if it’s not Suguru, it’s you. But he could never tell you that.)
You like to keep yourself busy in Kyoto. Whether it’s immersing yourself in your studies or practicing your technique, you can occupy yourself easily, even if you’re bombarded by images of veiny hands, long black hair, pink mouths. Blue eyes that are too bright, even in your dreams. 
You spend most of your time by yourself, anyway. It’s what you need. If not that, then you’re at the local bars with Utahime-senpai, who transferred to Kyoto months before. 
“Are you their little plaything?” she teases. You’re loosened up after a few beers, all on her tab, but the mention of the boys sobers you up immediately. You scowl.
“What?” She holds her hands up in surrender. “Everybody knows… Shoko kind of already told me.”
“Of course she did,” you snort.
“I’m just saying, you should be careful. They’re insatiable. And never in their right mind. I could advocate for Geto-kun, but I’m sure Gojo’s already corrupted him.”
Corrupted. It’s a funny notion. You wonder if you’ve been corrupted by both of them. Satoru as your first didn’t bother you. To have Suguru as your second only complicated things. You haven’t known anything else but them. You aren’t sure if this should concern you until Utahime talks about it.
“They’re kind of the same in that way,” you mumble.
“Are they both your boyfriends?” Utahime giggles.
“N-No…”
“So it’s not serious? I know I’m not much older than you, but I still went through a few flings. You shouldn’t let them keep you on a chain.”
“They’re not–”
“Are you sure?” she laughs. “You’ve been checking your phone every five minutes. It’s like they brainwashed you.”
“Hime,” you frown.
“I’m just saying,” she shrugs. “There are lots of men around here staring at you.”
“No, there aren’t.”
“Someone is staring at you right now. Behind you. Blonde. Tacky if he wasn’t like, a little hot like he is.”
“Shut up.”
She gives you a pointed look that causes you to look over your shoulder. Lo and behold, there is a man of that description making glances at you with a cocky smirk. It reminds you of the way Satoru looks at you. It makes your stomach flip.
“See?”
“I’m going to the bathroom,” you mumble.
You move past the crowd to the single stall, plastered in posters from vintage porn magazines and graffiti. Your phone’s about to die, but the group chat with you and the boys has unread messages. It’s mostly Satoru complaining, arguing with Suguru about things that you couldn’t care less about. There are separate messages from them, too. Satoru’s suggestive selfies and Suguru’s words of affirmation. You scoff at the difference between them.
When you return, Utahime grins at you like she’s plotting.
“What did you do?” you narrow your eyes.
“He came over here! I knew it. He was interested in you,” she beams.
“What?”
“Relax. He’s a sorcerer. And I gave him your number.”
“Hime!” You shove her arm lightly, groaning when she laughs.
“You need to get laid by someone who isn’t an idiot.”
You roll your eyes. The many beers are making your head swim too much for you to actually be angry. If anything, your cheeks feel warm at the prospect of someone else being interested in you. It’s not something you’ve experienced in your youth, or now for that matter, since Satoru had sunken his teeth in you so quickly.
Images of him talking to other girls at parties flash in your mind, making you grimace. Maybe Utahime was doing you a favor.
The bachelor in question is nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not getting a good look at him. A pit forms in your stomach at the idea of him texting you – a handsome stranger who watched you babble drunkenly to Utahime. It occurred to you that you hadn’t even considered yourself something desirable in a context that wasn’t bound to Satoru or Suguru.
On the walk home, the thought consumes you. You aren’t sure if you even know yourself without them. During most of your life, you’ve only known obedience. Intimacy with Satoru was no different, you realize. You were wrapped around his finger since you were children – it didn’t matter that you were apart for years. It would always be him.
You aren’t sure if this bothers you or not. You try to push the thought away, shaking your head slightly as if daydreams of him would fall out of your head. It doesn’t work, not really. You’re drunk. Naturally, you think of his pink mouth. The veins on his hands.
You unlock the door of your room. When you enter, darkness envelops you, which you’re used to, if not for the bright blue eyes that stare back at you. 
“Jesus!” you mutter, cursing to yourself once you can get the nearest lamp on. 
“What? Not happy to see me?” he slurs, flashing you a sloppy smile. 
“Can you at least give me a heads-up before you show up randomly?”
“That ruins the surprise, baby,” he purrs, walking over to you to set his hands on your hips.   Trapping you gently. 
“You’re drunk.”
“Hm?”
“You’re. Drunk. Why are you here?” 
“Had a mission nearby. Then I went to a bar to relax. And then, I thought, warping to Tokyo would take too much for a drunk. Why not stay here?”
“I’m not a motel.”
“C’mon, baby,” he pouts. “You’re not gonna kick me out, are you?”
You scoff, moving past him to sit on your bed and take off your shoes.
Satoru chuckles, taking a seat right next to you, thigh touching yours. “You’re drunk, too. I can smell it.”
“I haven’t even been here for a full month and this is like, the third time you’ve surprised me. What’s going on with you?”
“What? Can’t miss my lover?”
He says lover like it’s an inside joke. He never says girlfriend. Never partner.
“You’re so needy.”
“You like me that way,” Satoru says, his voice velvety. He’s not in his uniform, but a light blue button-down and slacks. You wonder if he’s planned this or if he dressed up for someone else, running to you as the safest option because you’re always there. Always willing.
You’d been ready to sink into your shitty mattress and dream of him. You hadn’t been anticipating the real thing in front of you. It was stupid, how he took your breath away, as if he was still something new to you. As if he hadn’t been in the back of your mind since you were a little kid, always.
“I’m tired, Satoru,” you sigh.
“You sure?” he grins. “You smell like beer. Still trying to have some fun tonight?”
You narrow your eyes at him and he laughs. He comes closer, pinching the meat of your thigh right under the hem of your skirt, chuckling when you swat his hand away.
“So short. Who’s this for, huh?” he taunts.
You swallow back an insult the moment you look down at the way his large hands play with a loose thread of your skirt. How large they are compared to your thigh, the calloused tips of his fingers running circles in your skin.
“No one,” you breathe.
“You cheating on me, Twigs?”
“Yeah, with Utahime,” you roll your eyes.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. Sounds hot, to be honest.”
Your cursed energy flares. You hate when he belittles you, but you could never do anything about it. You could only fall into his trap, giving into him the way he knows you will. You don’t even notice that he’s caged you within his arms, his hands settling on your hips as his body backs you into your bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress.
His breath smells sweet. It usually does, but it’s something sour this time. Something citrusy, along with the smell of something much too alcoholic. One of those whiskey sours, you guessed. You don’t realize how drunk he is until you look him in the eyes, his blue irises unfocused despite the desperation in his gaze.
“Of course not,” he grins, leaning in to inhale your scent. “You’d never. My sweet girl. My best girl, right?”
“You say that like I’m one of many,” you scoff.
“Are you jealous?” he rumbles, laughing. “As if there’s any other girl I like as much as you…”
He says girl and you think of Suguru. An exception, just barely. You realize how much you miss him, too.
Your eyes flutter closed as Satoru backs you into your bed, teeth grazing your earlobe. You aren’t sure if it’s him or the drunkenness of your brain. You don’t even notice his fingers massaging your thighs, trailing up to hook your underwear to the side to tease your dripping core. It’s his teasing laughter that snaps you awake.
“So wet… did you know I was coming, baby? Or were you expecting someone else?”
You don’t answer. Your breath hitches at the contact of his eager fingers prodding you, pushing upwards into your pulsating cunt before you can protest. The wounded noise you make only spurs him on further.
“You went to a bar, right? Were you thinking about me when you were there? Got yourself all wound up?”
You don’t reply. He’s too busy pushing his fingers to the very edge, stimulating the spot that makes your knees buckle before you can even form a thought.
You gasp, your mouth parting. Slack-jawed, eyes rolling back as you get closer to the edge before he’s even inside you. It could be pathetic if you cared, but Satoru always made everything around you melt, like you weren’t in your own mind anymore. You accepted being a body that belonged to him, nothing more.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he breathes, his lips tickling your jaw. “You’re so quiet.”
“Satoru,” you sigh. His other hand rubs the small of your back, touching the bare skin underneath your thin shirt.
He digs his fingers in further, knuckle-deep until he hears you make a pained noise. He grins at your broken moan like he’d just won a prize. He doesn’t stop, either — he wanted to hear more of those sounds out of your mouth. It was proof that you were still his, wrapped around his finger. 
You try to catch your breath as you lay back on your bed, his strong arms hoisting you up to the wall. You hiss at the feeling of his teeth on your thighs, biting desperately. Satoru was already sweating despite only coaxing bliss from you once. 
He claws at you, pulling at the buttons of your blouse and tugging your skirt down until you’re left bare for him. He groans at the sight of your silky skin, the way your chest heaves in anticipation. Everything about you is ripe, ready to break underneath his hands.
He’s less vocal this time when he takes you, pushing into you before you can say anything. He doesn’t realize how drunk he is until he does this, considering every sense of his was numb until he entered you, igniting his synapses on fire. 
You whimper from the abruptness, aching between your legs. You think that you would’ve bled if you weren’t so in love with him, but you knew better. Anything from him made your entire body warm and pliant, wet beyond your comprehension. You hated it, sometimes.
But you couldn’t hate anything about it now. You were doused in bliss.
“My girl,” he slurs. “So fucking perfect. Say it.”
You mutter nonsense under your breath.
He bends you in half, your calves resting on his broad shoulders. He chuckles at your pathetic whines.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“Fuck — I – I’m your girl,” you sob.
“My perfect girl,” he mutters, correcting you. He groans when he looks down at you, his hips stuttering. His thrusts are harder than usual on purpose — he’d rather die than tell you that he’d only warped to you because he was having a panic attack in his room alone. 
He thought he could get his mind off of you, off of Suguru, who he’d assumed was angry with him all day. There were only dry texts from the both of you. No woman at the bar could compete, even if he managed to get a decent handjob in the bathroom. He could only think of you. 
Satoru knew you’d hate him for it. He was disgusted with himself. He feels it now, aching inside the cavern of his chest when you moan his name, knowing he doesn’t deserve a praising word out of your mouth.
He whines, on the verge of tears as he rides out his orgasm in your cunt. 
“Shit,” he hisses into the skin of your neck.
You can barely reply before he kisses down your stomach, licking himself out of you with his nails digging into your thighs.
“Satoru, what are you—oh, fuck—”
“Cum for me,” he slurs, lapping at your clit as he pushes his fingers into you. He pauses, mesmerized at the way his cum drips out of you, only for his fingers to push it back into the hilt, up to his knuckles.
You sob in protest, your thighs shaking as he plays with you. He doesn’t stop for a second. It’s almost as if he doesn’t realize you’re there, his heavy-lidded gaze fixed on the way your pussy swallows his fingers.
“S’too much,” you whine, grasping his wrist tightly.
“Fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs under his breath. You don’t hear him. Your body convulses as he continues to play you like an instrument. He only stops when he looks up to see tears pricking your eyes.
“S-Satoru…”
“Fuck,” he mutters. He finally retracts, licking his fingers as he looks at you intensely. “Mine… you’re all mine.”
The glassy look in his eyes is from the alcohol, you assume, but there’s something tantalizingly too real about the expression on his face. Raw with something he only buries inside his gut. He snaps out of it like it’s not something you’re supposed to see. 
He grunts when he lays his head on your lap, his fingers digging into your skin possessively as you tremble. You prop your head up on your pillow, trying to catch your breath as you stroke his hair.
“Why’d you get so drunk?” you ask quietly. “Were you alone?”
“Of course I was,” he scoffs, almost defensive. But he smells a sweetness on his skin that isn’t from you, and he knows you’ve already picked up on it. 
“You could’ve texted or called me instead of breaking into my dorm.”
“You just hate fun,” Satoru mumbles. 
Despite his attitude, he rubs his cheek against your thigh like he’s a pet. He thinks about taking you again, just to shut you up — enough to have both of you sweating, the musk of your sex drowning out any remnants from the bitch that Satoru had tried to use hours before.
Nothing could replace you and he had to live with that. 
He nips at your thigh, his mouth getting dangerously close to your core. You whine as you pull him back by his scalp, like the scruff of a dog. Satoru is always insatiable when he’s drunk, which is saying something considering what he’s like sober. His cravings for you are always intense. When he’s not in his right mind, you’re more considered prey than a craving.
You don’t have the energy to respond to him. His warmth satiates you for now as he locks his arms around your bare waist. The light breathing fanning your stomach calms you.
When you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found, but there’s a small floral arrangement on your desk. White orchids and blue hyacinths.
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August, 2010 
You hate bringing anything back to life as much as you hate desecration.
It’s unnatural — though you know that nothing about the Jujutsu world is natural. Everything to you is a myth you have to deal with. After knowing Satoru for so long and seeing what nasty curses humanity could birth, you shouldn’t be stunted.
It makes you feel a bit ill when you realize how much power your hands wield. As ordinary as you’ve always been, these days you often wish that you were the true epitome of it. Only human, unable to see the horrors of the world. Left in the dark when it came to sorcery. Perhaps you aren’t cut out for this, despite how much you tried to convince Satoru you were.
His voice echoes in your mind. His pleading. The ways he wanted to protect you. He’d belittled your technique for a reason, maybe. You aren’t sure you’re cut out for this shit.
Necromancy is only exciting the first couple of times. After that, it’s the reanimation of body parts that freaks you out. It doesn’t matter that it’s the revival of small birds and rodents on a lab table. You feel like you’re playing God and not even doing a decent job of it.
It catches up to you in your dreams. The image of you getting held down, leaving you to resort to your technique. Rotting flesh. Even in your unconscious, the smell is somehow striking, as if you’re really there. Other times, you find horror in the reanimation of corpses under your hand. Split limbs coming together. Limbs that belong to people you love.
Tonight, you’re shaken by the image of Suguru mauled beyond belief. Sacrilegious violence that makes your stomach turn. 
When you wake up in a sweat, gasping, the alarm clock on your bedside table reads 1:12 am. You dial his number before you can even come to your senses.
“Twigs.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
You hear Suguru chuckle, deep and sweet like teeth sunken into cake. You’re filled with warmth almost immediately. 
“What’s up? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” he breathes.
“Had a nightmare,” you mumble.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No,” you sigh. 
“Fine. What are you thinking about, then?”
“You,” you mumble.
There’s silence on the other end. Despite this, you can still hear his grin. You can see his little smirk perfectly in your head. 
“Yeah?” his voice lowers. “What about me?”
“Y-your hands,” you mumble. “You make me feel safe.”
“Is that right?”
You make a small noise that shows your agreement, but it’s noncommittal. You hum at the thought of him. You’re sleep-dazed, partially wishing for this moment that he was more like Satoru. Able to talk your ear off without any effort from your end.
Suguru had always known you differently. He had you memorized as much as Satoru did, but uniquely, given the similarities between your personalities. He knew how you worked and he never held it against you.
Satoru would probably try to pry it out of you. Suguru would already know.
And at this moment, he knows. It’d be infuriating if you didn’t see it coming.
“You’re upset,” Suguru says.
“No.”
“You are. Or you’re pent up, which is also like being upset. Need some catharsis?”
“Maybe,” you mumble.
“Tell me what’s wrong, then. Or tell me about your nightmare.”
“No.”
He laughs. 
“Stubborn as always,” he purrs.
“I just wanted to hear your voice,” you whisper.
“You want to hear me be mean to you. You like not being in control. That’s what makes you feel safe, isn’t it, princess?”
“Shut up.”
“C’mon, baby,” he laughs. “Give me something to work with.”
Your eyes nearly glaze over as you watch the flickering lights outside of your dorm. A broken street lamp flashes on and off, shadowing your room in darkness only to illuminate seconds later, back and forth. Unpredictably so. You aren’t sure what else you should look at while you’re still so drunk on Suguru’s voice. You think maybe you’d handle this phone call better if you were far from sober.
“I fucked someone else yesterday.”
The line goes silent. Your heartbeat picks up.
After almost an eternity, you hear Suguru’s voice again. It’s soft, almost cooing. It feels awfully dangerous despite this.
“Yeah? Who?”
You swallow thickly. 
“This guy who got my number last month. Like, I didn’t give it to him — Utahime did,” you ramble. “But then we started texting and stuff and he’s… funny. He, uh, came over yesterday.”
“Did you like it?”
You imagine your throat closes up. Part of you wishes it would, that you’d just pass out immediately for no reason just so you didn’t have to have this conversation. You curse yourself for even bringing it up.
“Y-Yes.”
“You don’t sound so sure about that,” he chuckles.
“I am…”
“You don’t have to be so scared, baby. I know that Satoru took away your virginity, but he’s not some kind of god watching over you.”
“I know,” you huff.
“But you feel guilty, don’t you? Like you’re betraying him?” he teases.
You open your mouth to say something, then close it. You notice how he talks about Satoru and not himself.
“Do you care?”
“I know how you feel about me.” His answer is simple. Blunt. It almost sounds sarcastic, but Suguru often talks like he’s cock-sure about everything. Even if he isn’t, he’s always held a certain confidence that was different from what Satoru exuded. 
Satoru was a bad liar, to you, at least.
“Tell me about your boy. What’s his name?”
“He’s not–” you gruff. “Naoya. His name is Naoya.”
“That Zenin brat?”
“Huh?”
“He’s in the Zenin clan. A right bastard, I’ve heard.”
“He seems fine,” you mumble.
“Someone’s defensive,” he teases.
You pause, staring at the darkness of your ceiling. You fix your shorts, your fingers grazing the wetness of your core. You didn’t even realize you were aroused.
“I should go back to sleep,” you whisper.
“I thought you couldn’t. That’s why you called me, right? You need some help?”
“I don’t need help,” you scoff. “I just… I had a nightmare and wanted to talk to you.”
Suguru smiles. He knows you can’t see it, but he’s beaming in the darkness of his room. He’d been restless for the past few days after some disagreements with Satoru. He tried to blame the heat on physical altercations — the sun burning down to rev up the irritation in their shared systems like they were still boys. Always wanting to pin each other to the ground.
They didn’t have you to mediate, so they’d come out of arguments with bruises. Marks from skin tugged too harshly. The ghost of teeth biting down on flesh. 
“I wish you were here, babygirl,” he sighs, his tone desperate. You almost cringe at it — you always assume he’s playing with you.
“Yeah?” you snort.
“Mhm. It’s funny. You didn’t even wake me up when you called. I was already awake, thinking of you.”
“Were you, now?”
“Mhm,” Suguru hums.  “I just kept thinking about your thighs. How small your leg is compared to my hand.”
Your breath hitches and he almost laughs when he hears it.
“Can you do something for me, baby?” he asks. “Want you to touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are.”
You gulp. Your fingers prod at the hem of your athletic shorts, the nylon riding up as you squirm in your bed. Your index and middle fingers prod at the center of your core experimentally. You’re fucking dripping and it makes your breath hitch.
Suguru calls your name.
“I”m…” you stammer. “I’m wet. Why?”
“Poor thing. Maybe that’s why you can’t sleep, no?”
“I-I’m fine… I just—”
“You should play with your clit. Since I can’t be there to do it for you,” he breathes.
“What?”
“C’mon, sweetheart. I can tell my favorite girl just needs to relax. That’s why you called me, right?”
You whimper. It was maybe half-true. Suguru had stopped answering his texts as frequently as he usually did, and you missed the sound of his voice. The odd ache in your chest wasn’t something that you felt like exposing to anyone else, not even Satoru.
The silk of Suguru’s voice brings you back. You wanted to breathe him in, but he hadn’t visited like he said he would. Didn’t have the warping feature that Satoru had, which to this day, still startled you whenever it happened. Ocean eyes whipping your senses from thin air, like a lightning strike. 
Despite your recent gripes about him, you needed the both of them like you needed air. At least to make it all more bearable. It disgusted you a little bit, needing them like a finding addict. Living with yourself and yourself alone was starting to get old, though you aren’t sure how much left of you feels whole. You were always fruit split in between a blade, all the gory parts splayed out by the hand of someone greater than you.
You needed Suguru’s musk, his hair in between your fingers as he rocked into you. Your hands were too small compared to his. 
He has you panting, sweating through Kyoto’s mugginess. The dorms were in even worse shape here than on the main Tokyo campus, probably why Gakuganji was such a vapid old man. Everything was too hot and falling off the bone.
“I feel like I’m hallucinating. It’s like I can smell you through the phone,” Suguru murmurs, his voice like a mirage. You’d laugh if you weren’t so deep in your cunt, fingers pruning and pushed to the knuckles. 
Suguru knew you would do anything for him, so he made you torture yourself because he wasn’t there to do it himself.
Your groans are muffled from you smothering your face in the sheets, knees pressing down and ass up. Willing to humiliate yourself without him even being there.
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up already,” he chides.
“I’m not,” you whine.
“How many times have you cum?”
“None.”
He laughs. “What are you thinking about?”
“You know what.” 
You’re close to tears by the time he lets you cum. The sound of his voice hitting you deep in your core, insides permeated with the thought of him. Sweeter than smoked sugar.
It was the sound of his grunt that tipped you over, imagining him with black strands sticking to his high cheekbones with sweat. The apples of his face candy-pink. Where Satoru looked cherubic, Suguru looked like a girl’s first wet dream. 
“Were you touching yourself?” you pant, coming down from your high. You don’t bother putting on your underwear again.
“Obviously,” he groans. The vibrations of his voice made the speaker blow off-kilter like the audio of a shitty VHS. “Came all over myself.”
You could fall asleep to the sound of his static hums. The chaos in your gut is settled by the time your alarm clock strikes devil’s hour.
“How are things?” you ask sleepily.
“With me?” Suguru asks. “Fine. Same as always.”
“You sound tired.”
“It’s three in the morning, sweetheart,” he chuckles dryly.
“Mm. My phone bill’s gonna be so high.”
“Get Satoru to pay for it.”
The bastard probably would, if you asked.
You don’t get much out of Suguru for the remainder you’re awake. His answers are deflective and clipped. He hangs up by the time he hears you breathing, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.
He sighs in his room, rummaging for his pills. If nightmares didn’t keep him up, then the sheer unwillingness of his brain’s tranquility was often enough for him to run a graveyard shift. Stumbling in the dark, half-dead. He’d gotten productive in finishing the video games he’d started with Satoru by himself. Not much else.
His throat feels dry. He couldn’t differentiate the tastes of anything anymore. It all tasted like curses.
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You keep having dreams about Suguru.
Tonight, there’s two of him.
One is the image you’re used to – hair swept up in a bun. Broad chest in his Jujutsu Tech uniform. Eyes crinkling into half moons.
The other seems to be an alter ego. A cursed version, one with eyes to kill and blood on his hands. Hands that are trying to tear you apart.
When you grip his wrist, you can see the imprint of your hand on his skin. Flesh falling away, much too easily. The air around you splinters like you’re in a glitched matrix. The Suguru you know and love falters beside you, his skin suddenly sallow. Pale as bile.
When you scream, nothing comes out.
Pseudo-Suguru smiles as your Suguru fades away into ash. You stare into his cat-like gaze, the familiar of his mouth. 
“Come with me,” he says. 
It’s the last thing you hear before your body wakes you up in a sweat. You gasp as you jolt awake, fingers curling your damp bedsheets. You’re further startled by the crack of thunder as a torrential downpour occurs without warning — unusual for late August, considering the rainy season had died down weeks prior. 
You sit up and reach for your phone almost automatically, your hands shaking as you go through your contacts. Your fingers hover over two names as you swallow thickly.
A few beeps follow the push of the call button.
“We’re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”
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183 notes · View notes
avelera · 11 months
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The thing is, I’m just so fascinated by the fact that of all the naturally “Good” aligned companions, Gale is the only one who you can convince to stick with you if you attack the Grove in BG3.
Wyll leaves immediately if you do. Karlach sticks around long enough to chew you out before taking off. Halsin obviously never joins you.
But Gale can be persuaded. All while hating himself the whole time. Horrified by what happened and what he’s taken part in. But you can point out that if he makes a principled stand and abandons the party over the murder of innocents, he will certainly die. And if you do, and succeed and persuading him, he relents. He gives in. He goes along with you.
It’s just soooo deeply fucked up that I’m still chewing over it.
By the end of my Evil Durge run, I had Gale at 100% approval. Giving Aylin to Larroakan only got -1, easily made up later. Letting Astarion Ascend was only a -1. Gale didn’t leave after the Durge became Bhaal’s Chosen, just voiced his disapproval and continued on working alongside us.
All you have to do to keep him in line is remind him again that he’s so right, so valid for wanting the Crown of Karsus. He doesn’t have make up excuses that it’s for the greater good, not you, no. If you say he’s just allowed to want it, to have it, just because it’s power, he’s so relieved to have someone finally be sensible and see things the same way he does! Gale eats out of the palm of your hand if you just encourage his worst instincts and tell him he doesn’t have to feel bad about his ambition. Or his resentment of Mystra. Or his conviction that he could do better if he took her place.
Based on all that, I have to headcanon that Gale had convinced himself that he could fix it all after, as soon as he got the Crown and ascended to become the new god of magic. Every evil is justified if it gets him to that goal. He’ll be good later. He can fix things later. But he can only fix things if he gets that power. It’s all permitted, every evil, every slaughter, if he can just reach the end goal and then he can undo it all.
Which is why I so badly want a fic where Durge or Tav take the power for themselves, enslave the world, including Gale, and then Gale… wakes up. Because wizards have a lot of natural defenses against mind control. They can regain their autonomy, like Omeleum did.
I guess I just want a fic of Gale grappling with his own moral flexibility. Wyll and Karlach had the moral strength to call out bullshit when they saw it and bounce the heck out of there.
But Gale, brilliant, promising, intelligent, good Gale didn’t. His ambition allowed him to be easily led by the nose. His will to live led him by the nose. He didn’t have the moral strength to take a stand. It’s dark and depressing, yeah, but damn do I want an angst fic where Gale after an evil run looks back and grapples with everything he allowed to happen, all in the name of becoming a god, only to be left with nothing.
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deadliestgalaxy · 1 year
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SPOILERS FOR GOTG VOL. 3 - DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET!
I have a feeling that everyone (who calls themselves fans) that didn't get the meaning of the ending in GOTG Vol. 3 has never read a single comic of them or is only a fan of some characters/relationships. Many complaints I've seen are about the end and Gamora and Peter’s romance, which sounds kind of childish. You don't need to agree with me, but I’d like to elaborate on that.
James Gunn's writing is always about the detail of things and he is not afraid to do something “bad” if it is the best for the STORYTELLING. This is what most of these people don't get: the most important part of these movies is the story they are telling. The characters help the movie tell the story, it's their story after all — but there's no protagonist or greater good that puts them above the narrative.
(This is different from Gamora’s death in IW btw. It was not the only way they had to make the story flow; they just wanted to “humanize” Thanos and by that, they chose to kill her character. It was an action ADDED not CRUCIAL to the story.)
Vol. 3 is about found-family and growing up; finishing cycles. They will always be family, as we will always be part of their story (that’s why we understand Groot now). However, life chapters end just like in real books, and these Guardians as a TEAM “chapter” has ended for them and for us.
This is very common in the comics. Most times they are all separated, doing solo missions, until something goes wrong and they reunite again. They never stop being friends, why would it be different in the movie universe?
But the end suggests they are not family anymore.
Did we see the same film? No, it doesn't. We can see that in James’ subtle writing: the way they all still respect each other, their understanding of one another, and how they all would die for themselves if needed. That won't change just because they are not physically together — just like when you finish school you won't ignore your best friends, even if you create new relationships (which you will).
But Gamora is not part of the family anymore.
Well, if you see it this way, I can't change your mind. What I can say is that the story IMPLIES that she still is, in fact. And the number one clue is that she (in 2 days) understands Groot. Remember, we also understand him because the fans are now part of the Guardians family — so understanding him and being family are correlated.
Anyhow, I know this is not enough for most people, so hear me out: Gamora’s arc is about respect and healing. She starts the movie skeptical about working with the guardians — she just wants the money— when in reality, she acts like this because she is AFRAID and feels PRESSURED to be around her “old” family.
Imagine: you died but then another version of you comes back without knowing anything of your present life. People will expect you to act in a certain way that maybe you started to act after you met them; they will expect you to like certain things you don't know of; people will EXPECT you to attend to their needs. It is a lot to swallow at once. You are afraid because you don't know them, you don't think you deserve all this love and commitment out of nowhere. So you run away. You run away to find things on your own, to grow out of this pressure you feel and discover the whole universe of possibilities you have ahead.
That's what Gamora did. But then, the mission went south and now she is stuck with her “old” team. The film shows us her character exploring the ship, listening to music... trying to understand them. At one point she even says to Rocket “You must be a very loyal pet for them to do all this for you” (or something similar). This is her way of putting into words how she visualizes the current scenario she was put in. Slowly she recognizes that they are a family, and by the way they act she finally gets how and why she also must have loved them in the past.
She goes from “I don't give a fuck”, not open to them, afraid and pressured to “I bet we were fun”, understanding and respecting them, even fighting for their family to survive.
(If she still didn't give a fuck she wouldn't have fought for them and with them when she could have just run away again.)
But she has already created new relations, so she goes back to those for now. It is what she is familiar with in this timeline. Does that mean she will never contact the guardians ever again? NO. Remember: James’s writing is about DETAILS, nuance. She is open to them again, and the final part of the movie shows this to us, especially her last interaction with Groot, Peter, and Nebula being friendly.
Oh, but Peter and Gamora will never be a couple again, their romance ended when she went back to the Ravengers.
… Again, if you see it this way I can’t change your mind. What I can confirm is that she doesn’t close herself to the team — especially to Peter — in the end.
When she says “I bet we were fun” it's the first time she acknowledges their former relationship without distancing herself from it. She could've said “I bet you were fun” or “I bet she was fun”, but instead she prefers to include herself with “we”. She pauses before letting go of Nowhere, stopping before entering her ship — what moves her forward is Nebula, who can see her sister’s changed attitude but still encourages her to take a step forward and go explore the galaxy, because she knows Gamora is not mature and ready yet for those feelings; just like she wasn't ready to be openly sentimental when Gamora joined the Guardians back in 2014.
And Peter is also not ready. Just like Gamora needs to find herself again and discover who she is, Peter needs too. He is lost without her after IW, we can see it during Holiday Special and in the beginning of Vol. 3 when he passes out because of alcohol abuse. Both don't know who they are in this new reality — and they will only find out with time. Time heals and reveals.
In the end, Peter doesn't have the same thought as in the begging: he doesn't want her to be who he once knew, he wants her as she is, this new version whom he still loves so much and wants to know more of. Although he wishes she could stay, he knows that she has her own time and while she learns about herself he will go do the same.
So yes, they’re not explicitly together as a couple in the final scene — neither they kiss nor make out, whatever you believe a relationship is made of — but they’ve changed and are open to one another. The last scene does not appear to me as an “I’ll never see you again”, but as a “Goodbye, see you soon”.
(Aside from all the small bits we had through the movie of a developing relationship between them; my favorite one being when Peter activates the auto-destruction code and Gamora smiles at him.)
Besides, you can't force anyone to fall in love in 48 hours!!
Yes, I also have some minor complaints about the story, but I can recognize that — with all the turbulence the characters and the production faced in the last few years — it was a satisfying end with a limited amount of time to a badass trilogy. The end is definitive but also open to future possibilities for all our favorite characters in their universe — some we might never see and it will only be to our imagination.
Again, you don't need to agree with me, but I had to do this, or else I would implode with thoughts. Thank you if read up here! My ask box is open if you want to talk more <3
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dawndelion-winery · 1 year
Text
Fortune's Blessing
Meeting the God of Luck! Reader
Ft. Capitano(pt.2), Diluc, Dottore(pt.2), Pantalone(pt.2), Zhongli
Part 1
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Capitano:
Fortune favours the bold
Or so he's heard, which is why he's once again at your altar, flowers in hand, along with his usual offerings
He takes more time in getting to his requests with each visit ever since you've started entertaining him in person
Terrible, really, the way he stalls, smoothly transitioning between topics the moment he sees you begin to lose interest
He knows there's only so long s mere mortal could hold your attention
Still he tries, adamant to make it work, to leave an impact on you, even if only a fraction of the impact you've had on him
Perhaps it really was time to be bold - what he planned to do would toe the line between courage and foolishness
"What is it you wish me to bless this time, Captain?" You murmur, tilting his chin to have him look at you as he knelt at your feet. He rose, kissing the back of your hand in reverence. Had you been anything but a god, you would have surely melted stthe intensity of his gaze, so steadfast and sure as he looked at you like there was nothing else in the world.
"It is a more...personal endeavour this time, Fortune." You raised an eyebrow at the captain prompting him to continue.
Diluc:
He's never considered himself particularly lucky or unlucky
Nor does he consider himself a devout believer of any god
Like yeah sure, gods exist, good for them, not his problem
Y'all failed him and let his dad die
So his first offering had been more of a formality since you were a friend of their archon and chose to visit their fair land of Mond
It just do happened his wine was the finest you'd tasted, and he found himself in much good fortune over the next few days
It felt odd to him, suddenly having this much good fortune after turning into a recluse
Greater still was his shock when you sat comfortably in his living room when he arrived home
"You are young lord Ragnvindr, yes?" you asked gleefully. "Your offering was received with much gratitude, and I am most regretful to inform you that it has run out."
He blinked a few times as you smiled at him expectantly. "You're...Fortune..." You nodded enthusiastically. "And you...you're asking for more wine?" His question sounded clipped, as though he were weighing the consequences of acquainting himself with yet another alcoholic god.
"Indeed, I took the liberty of installing a small shrine by your cellar for your convenience."
Your words left Diluc sighing, yet he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips as you left.
Dottore:
Attention whore.
You thought you were dealing with a genius mad scientist?
Well, technically yes, BUT he is also an attention whore
Why did you not shower him with praise when he showed you the experiments he had used your luck for?
He takes it as your cue to him that he hasn't impressed you sufficiently
Which does make him grumpier
And he's not professional enough to hide it
"Take a look at this, Fortune."
You nodded in response, gingerly lifting the small device from his hands and raising it to the light to observe it. Your face remained impassive since you didn't really understand just what you were looking at, but of course, to Dottore, he'd expect a god to know these things.
"Well?" Dottore tapped his foot impatiently, his gleeful smile fading, slowly replaced by a frustrated scowl when all you comment is that "it's nice". Only nice?
The little office chair he pulled out for you is now carting you off around the lab to look at larger scale projects at speeds it was certainly not designed for.
Pantalone:
It's an investment, as you should know
Except luck is always a gamble, and who's to say his competitors don't worship you as well?
He finds out the hard way that his competitors were, in fact petty enough to come together and pool their offerings to one up his offerings
He does call for a business meeting with you over dinner
Enjoy it? Lovely, he certainly hopes you do
Gives you an ultimatum, in a way, because at the end of the day, he's got more to offer you long term
"Forsake them, Fortune. Whatever it is you want from me, it's yours. Is that not tempting enough of an offer to you?"
He's batting his eyes at you, plastering a pleading expression on his face, but you can tell it's an act. You know full well he'd cope just fine even if you declined, that this was just the most direct way out for him. Yet you found yourself caving for the sly, coy grin that tugged at his lips. So against your better judgement you agree. For a second, you note how serpentine his victorious smirk looks, and he seems to believe he has you trapped in his coils. No matter. It amused you for the time being; and you would continue to humour him for as long as he intrigued you.
Zhongli:
It's been a while since he's met another god who wasn't one of the seven
Heck, it's been ages since he'd even seen the seven, each of them preoccupied with their own affairs
So he's more than obliged to show you around, to accompany you when you visit Liyue
He has no need for luck, just as you have no need for material wealth
It's an odd sort of comfort, not being exalted, and it feels like two ordinary old friends walking along the harbour together
The two of you definitely jokingly exchange gifts as "offerings" and tease each other about your respective abilities
"Do you recall our contract?" Zhongli mused as he fidgeted with a single mora, rolling it between his fingers.
"Which? When you were only known as Morax? Or when you first were revered as Rex Lapis?"
"From our first farewell." You nodded, thinking back to that moment, back when Zhongli had kept his hair more unkempt, and worn the most fitted of shirts, flaunting the geo lines that adorned his arms. Back then, he'd lost Guizhong not long ago, and it was beginning to get lonely as more and more of his friends succumbed to erosion. So he'd proposed a contract, that no matter what, as long as he remained in Liyue, you'd one day return.
"Well, I did return," you hummed. "That you did," he agreed. "And I'd like to propose the same contract when you depart again. Something to look forward whole you're away."
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Commissioned by @monstersealclubber
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brucewaynehater101 · 5 months
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i want you to know that i scroll through your posts and interactions just to find all your fic recs and open new ao3 tabs.
your tim parenting Bruce au has destroyed me and I love it so much thank you for your service.
do you have any more particularly gut wrenching aus cooking up in your genius noggin?
Heeeey. How'd you know I had a new AU I haven't released yet?
But before we get into that, thank you for the compliments. Angst is my favorite flavor.
As far the AU, you know the saying, "You either die as a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain"?
I feel like that could fit Tim so well.
How I imagine the AU to start out would be Tim as Robin. He's in the batcave with Bruce as the man is showing him a particularly devastating case. Bruce, his mentor but not his father, turns to Tim with a grimmace.
"There's a reason we have a code, Tim."
They both glance at Jason's memorial and Bruce's hands start to shake.
"As much as we may want to give in to our desires and emotions, we can't stoop down to their level. There needs to be lines we won't cross, even for the greater good."
Azure eyes snap to arctic ones, begging for the younger to understand.
"We do this to protect others, even those who are twisted and foul. We aren't the judges or executioners."
Tim nods in agreement, and Bruce's shoulders lose a little of their tension. The older man pats the teen's shoulder in pride before his attention goes back to the murder case.
Tim, as Robin, had many interactions with Bruce that shaped who he was as a vigilante. How much force to apply when fighting, what lines to cross, and acceptable codes of conduct were taught to the kid in several instances. It didn't matter that Bruce himself had broken them or that, on very rare occasions, Dick also broke them. They were rules Tim was expected to follow, and they were reasonable lines. Of course, Tim did everything he could to meet those standards. He may have trained with Lady Shiva, and YJ may get into so whacky ordeals, but there's no excuse to go outside of those bounds.
It became difficult, though, when Jason beat Tim into the floor of Titan's Tower. When Jason, after hurting several family members, was welcomed back. It became a strain on Tim when Bruce enacted the 16th Birthday present fiasco or Tim found out about what the man had done to Dick (the bruise he left on Dick's face after Jason's passing). It was demanding to follow those rules when Damian came into the picture and when Dick handed him Robin.
When Tim found that painting of Bruce, when Dick and the JL turned their backs on him, when YJ wasn't there to support him, some part of Tim said "fuck it." Why should he follow standards he had to leash Bruce into obeying? The man wasn't even here anymore.
He still tried, but he gave less effort to it. He didn't want Bruce to find out when he returned after all.
But Tim? He never returned from that desert. As far as the Bats become aware after Tim sends them the data for Bruce and then blows up the bases, Tim died in the explosions he caused.
And the rest of the AU goes into Tim exploring how the guidelines Bruce gave him were bullshit, so he slowly starts to let more and more go until he has no moral bounds anymore. He's seen Bruce, Jason, Damian, Barbara, Alfred, and Dick all break one or more of these "rules" that were placed on Tim. So why should Tim go along with it?
What does it matter if he betrays, manipulates, tortures, and kills if it saves the most people? What does it matter if he commits suffering if he's helping people?
Until, one day, Bart and Kon are on the other side of the battlefield from Tim. While Bart is steadfast in defeating Tim (no matter how much it pains him), Kon is devastated that Tim never told him he was alive. He doesn't even care that Tim is a villain. If he had just asked, Kon would've joined him.
It's too late now. Bart needs Tim to stop, Tim can't let Kon join him, and Kon is torn between his duty and his friend.
So Tim does what he always does, he sacrifices himself. He allows them to take him into holding, executes his plan to murder all villains left, places restrictions on the JL (so they'll never hurt anyone the way they hurt Tim and abandoned his friends again), and then Tim disappears. Bart opposing Tim was the sign that Tim was in the wrong. He knows that. If he wasn't, Bart would've been on Tim's side no matter how morally grey he got.
Tim had crossed into the black.
He became what he always feared he might one day be.
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lavender--fairy · 2 years
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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞
Neville says "Assume and let it be" As comforting this part should be, it turns out to be the hardest part for most of us. We just can't let it be we think "If i think it one more time then it will manifest" "if i affirm enough times it will happen""there must something more to it" but this just shows that you are still desiring it, you are "trying to make it happen" and that is NOT fulfillment and will cause you all sorts of problems.
Now some of you might want to let it be but just can't instead you are desperate and impatient and i'm gonna tell you how you can actually do it. I want you to truly TRULY understand this "Your imagination is the ONLY real reality" and "Leave the outer world alone for it is ONLY an illusion" this is very very important and i've said it unnumbered times and will continue to say it because if you overlook it you will suffer like i did. If Consciousness is the ONLY real reality and the outer world will reflect no matter what then why get so worked up about it? why worry "if it will happen", if you worry that just means you haven't completely accepted the law(as within so without) you aren't serious about it, i mean you've found GOD people all over the world are in search of God and you have found him don't just take this power lightly but completely accept him in you.After you accept you also trust his power and that means After you have assume something you let it be and that means to know it will come into being BUT not looking for conformation from the outer world.
When you assume something to be true as in if you have visualized a scene, you will want to look the outside to confirm your assumption, but this is the wrong attitude. You need to have confidence in yourself, that what you have assumed within, will happen in the outside world. You do not have to look for it, and by not looking for it, you will see it. No more craving or seeking. Now here are some really helpful quotes:
Many people get in the habit of thinking that "If I just think it one more time then it will manifest." No, it is when you let it be, you will be move under compulsion to manifest it. It is when you stop looking to outside world for confirmation, it will happen. Why? Because consciousness is the only reality. If your consciousness assumes something and then you use your consciousness to look to the outside to confirm, you will be denied, then you will accept the denied as truth and it is a cycle.
Think of manifesting as a breath. When you breathe in, you must let it go to accept a new breath. If you breathe in, and cling onto it, you will die. You will hold and hold and hold and you will never receive another breath. You must let it go to receive it. Every single time you succeed, there was this boldness, this confidence, this knowing that what you appropriated can effortlessly be done. This all comes from seeing yourself greater than your desire. If you try it you will see what I mean. Simply take the view that your desires are really nothing. They are simple goals that can easily be achieved within and through this you can feel the satisfaction of achieving it and you are able to move on.-Edward art
"So, people will tell you that “I work so hard at it,” well that's why you're failing. If you really believe all things are possible to God, and God is your own wonderful human imagination and his ways are higher than your mortal level, well then, what are you interfering with that state for? Assume the end and don't work it at all. You'll be moving under compulsion to manifest it, if you simply assume it and let it be. What do you do after someone is pregnant? Just let it be."-Neville
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Will you do more slasher yandere? I LOVE HIM!!!!!!!!! I wanna see us graduated with a house, wedding, and 7 kids. I wanna be his lil stepford wifey!!!!!!!!!! 🙈🤰👩‍🍼👶😭
🤰-anon i was so confused for a second before i reread the fic. i was staring at my screen for a solid second questioning my life. i was like, “7 kids… tf?”
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[part.1]
yan!slasher who makes feels so young around you. he can still remember your wedding just a few years ago.
yan!slasher who will always love your oldest the most, having luckily caused the shotgun wedding. oh, he'll never forget that fear in your eyes, tears threatening to spill, proclaiming you were still a virgin. it was honestly because your period was late, and it was a joke to check.
yan!slasher who felt some remorse. he promised to wait until you were married, and he thought he had the patience- just when you look like that, was it honestly his fault? he's been waiting since high school just for this very moment. you can't exactly blame him when those hormones he's been trying to keep down just come to bite him later on.
yan!slasher who decides you both and your 7 little dwarfs should move to a gated community in the midwest, each house bearing shutters on windows and white picket fences. grass that could rival the country club a few blocks away, and those beautiful flowers you loved so much so he loved them so much.
yan!slasher who was honestly being generous. i mean, the perfect town and house for the perfect nuclear family, who wouldn't want that? sure a woman like you should never be confined to a kitchen, for crying out loud you have a degree, but think about your 7 children. they needed a mother in their life. their father is a hard worker after all he can pay the bills so the children can have a mother.
yan!slasher who worried about your loneliness. you did need some friends from moving into such a beautiful community. why not invite some women over? he made sure to buy only the best house available just for your family to be the envy of the town. the wives immediately wanting to have tea once your husband and perfect children were gone.
yan!slasher who, of course, caught wind of mrs. rothschild. how could she say such horrible things? ‘her lawn needed some mowing, and did you see her shoes? ugh, I saw that wear and tear from a mile away. she’s such a- excuse my language, whore. she just married him for his money.’ who did she think she was? she was just an unfertilized old hag wishing to relive her youth! she was jealous of you and your perfect family!
yan!slasher who almost jumps on her the moment those words spill from her sagging red-painted lips. he continued driving the golf cart on the green, trying to contain himself, the past he desperately was trying not to relapse into. but at the same time, did her family even need her? he’s heard the rumors from the drunk colleagues after work in the bar, how she practically was pouncing on her children when they came home with an a- or anything below. the complete opposite of what a woman should be! she’s the complete opposite of you!
yan!slasher who came to the conclusion mrs. rothschild's family could live without her. a pathetic old woman desperately trying to relive her youth by hating on those with lives oh so much better than hers. yes, she could die; it would be for the greater good. but at the same time, he couldn't fall into his old ways. his family needed him- you needed him. he was the sole provider for your little children, and to think like tha- ‘to think that man even has a wife like her. such a pathetic man.’
yan!slasher who is grateful he kept up with working out. beneath that knitted sweater, white button-down, and expensive pants, it was plainly obvious. of course, he made sure you would remember that whenever all the kids were asleep. you did say you wanted to try for another after all.
yan!slasher who decided that the only way to get rid of mrs. rothschild was to tell you to invite her for tea one-on-one. poisoning that vegan tea she liked oh so much and some sleeping drugs in yours. you and the children wouldn't need to know this side of him, grabbing her hair through that kentucky derby hat, ripping the expensive fabric, and gripping to her hair with his strong fingers, still rough and padded from his days in high school up until now, switching to golfing with his work buddies.
yan!slasher who left a note telling you he was going to work early from some colleagues slacking off, and mrs. rothschild left when you fell asleep. that was all a cover-up for him to leave town for a day or two. he just needed to find that deserted fishing lake his college told him about. that sewage spilling would cover up her pathetic, rotting body in no time. now you could live your happy little stepford wife life with no trouble!
yan!slasher who started slipping up more and more. sure, he wouldn't have wanted this at the beginning. this was a new place, a new year. but it was all for you! why shouldn’t he protect his wife and children? he’s already the sole provider, after all.
yan!slasher who makes sure to dispose of tell the housing committee that anyone who even looked at you the wrong way mailbox was approximately two inches farther than the housing code in section 2-a of the appropriate home guide they would give you on the first day of moving in.
yan!slasher who makes sure you don't know what happened to that woman who said such horrible atrocities about you. some such as your couch wasn’t complimenting the cheese platter you had served last week! so horrible and rude of her! how low do these people get? now, do you know her truly body and soul like him? well, no- you didn't. why should you stay up to date or even notice those beneath you and your wonderful perfect magazine family?
yan!slasher who was surprised when you did ask if she was alright but made sure you don't worry your little head off, darling wife. she was cheating on her husband with the couples' therapist anyway.
yan!slasher who noticed that man who looked at your photo in his wallet a split second longer than he should. he was slacking off at his job! fine reasons for someone to be fired as soon as snatches that position he’s been working oh so hard for! aren't you just so happy for him? don't think you should reward him? have the kids go to their friends' house for a night and let him finally spend some alone time with you, the creaking of the bed frame hitting the wall the whole night, heartbeats intertwining into one?
yan!slasher who was grateful he had chosen such a safe town to live. a gated community was supposed to protect the outside not the inside after all. no one would suspect the nice and peaceful town would be harboring a murderer.
yan!slasher who wondered what the townspeople were thinking. he almost felt giddy at it. but he can't be distracted when his main priority is and always be you.
yan!slasher who is overjoyed when the town decides to host a party to try and brighten everyone's mood. this would be another perfect opportunity to show the community how perfect his pretty little wife is! yes, he wanted to look good, only for you. you were the only one he saw, why should he care about the others? you were the main attraction. he would make sure people would know that.
yan!slasher who let you put some makeup onto him to try and spruce him up a bit. who cares if it wasn’t masculine? he would be hotter than any other man there anyway. besides, he was the only one that had a wife that loved him! how pathetic was it to hate those who have more than you?
yan!slasher who ignores the looks women give him. envy. yearning. desire. if one woman even touched him or, god forbid, a man talk to you, he would just have to rip that cute little esophagus right out of their throat in front of everyone!
yan!slasher who, of course, doesn't. why would he ever subject your eyes to even the thought of blood? but he does cling to you the whole night. you want to talk to some of the wives? oh, no, i don’t think that would be for the best. after all, your husband is right here. he’s been so busy with work, why would you ever want to leave your devoured spouse to spend time with friends?
yan!slasher who, once he hears the rumors going around that he, him, your wonderful loving husband was the one killing people, was over this little town.
yan!slasher who makes sure you didn't try any of the punch or alcohol they were serving. 
yan!slasher who makes sure that you both leave early.
yan!slasher who makes sure to tell the kids to pack up.
yan!slasher who makes sure that he already had everything you needed to leave.
yan!slasher who makes sure to grab a photobook of your family and get everyone in the car. 
yan!slasher who makes sure you don’t check the news on that small town you lived in.
“leaving? no, baby. just take a nap and when you wake up you’ll have a whole new life. i’ll protect you.”
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radiance1 · 11 months
Text
Vlad jumps universes.
Why? Well, his empire crumbled because of a certain wizard, who marked his fall as 'collateral damage' and Vlad?
Vlad was PISSED.
As a last fuck you from that same wizard, Vlad was turned into a cat, before that wizard croaked and died. So, Vlad jumped universes since everything he built crumbled and there was literally nothing tying him to that universe anyways.
So, he stepped foot in this new one and decided he would build his empire from the ground up, just like his old one. He will admit, it was a bit harder than he expected, being a cat closed a few methods for him to acquire what he wanted.
So, what to do?
Take a random, down on his luck man, and make him a deal he can't refuse of course. Lost the love of your life? Your family cut off all ties with you? Lost your home in a house fire and in crippling debt?
Well, does Vlad have an offer you can't refuse!
He'll give you everything you could ever need! Anything you would want, could be right within your grasp! You could change your fate with this one simple choice.
This is a deal you can't refuse!
Did he actually think he had a choice in the matter? When Vlad said he can't refuse, he meant it. Vlad will bring whatever you want within reach, fulfil your wildest dreams and give you a life of comfort you wouldn't have even believed a few moments prior!
Vlad then goes on to use said guy as the 'CEO' of his company, ripping multiple businesses out of the hands of the unwary and rebuilding his empire one block at a time with a human puppet as the face.
Said human puppet feels like he made a deal with a demon in the guise of a cat. But hey, he gets a lavish life and paid off debt so he's not really complaining about it. Could be worse, like asking for his soul or to gather a bunch of sacrifices to summon some greater demon god or something.
Then they pull up to Gotham for a Gala, the guy is unsure about it, but Vlad couldn't care less, and wants to smack the guy over the head with his paw because you think he would let you die while he was there? No, you're currently too useful for something like that.
He does roll his eyes though.
The guy wants to feel happy about it, but is slightly concerned and then decides not to think about it.
So, a while before the gala, Vlad goes out because he was curious about Gotham. Making no attempts at hiding how well-maintained he looked, or the expensive collar around his neck, that he willingly got himself thank you very much, because he goes the extra mile to play his part.
Of course, in a city like Gotham, such a thing doesn't go unnoticed. Resulting in multiple attempts to try and catnap him, not that they ever work, in fact, apparently seeing his powers just make him even more valuable.
Something about him being easy pickings since he doesn't belong to a Familia (Heard Robin call them that and it just caught on with everyone else) and that they could sell him off if they were quick.
Them? Sell him off? Tough luck.
After about... the fourth? Time that this happened, a few cat interrupted before he could do anything and then suddenly said cat gets shot, stands back up and goes back to fighting said humans who then ran away when another cat with power over electricity pulled up a few seconds later and they decided it wasn't worth it.
He could have taken care of himself, but it was interesting nonetheless, and because of that interest, he was now following the immortal cat who was constantly yapping his ear off with questions out of curiosity, bemusement, and interest.
Kevin the Deathless.
Is apparently what he was known as in the underbelly of Gotham city, known for his sheer recklessness and to be quite a pain in the ass since he would get back up no matter what you throw at him.
Vlad's interest only grows.
When asked for his age, he reveals it very easily since he didn't see any point in hiding it. 176, an age that shocks the cat, which is obvious, and then he's told that he's older than 'Gramps' and that he's 150.
Vlad pauses. Then resumes in the next second on the way to the warehouse that is home to Kevin's Familia.
Then he finds the Head to be Danny, and suddenly isn't as surprised anymore. Though for Danny to be the lead for an organization? Never thought he had it in him.
Danny is about as enthused to see Vlad as Vlad was enthused to see him.
Which is not at all.
Most of it due to the awkward tension between the two because of their past and outliving their friends and family and then just never getting around to trying to fix it. But Danny asks why Vlad is here, Vlad says for a gala, Danny then clarifies that he meant in this dimension.
And why he's a cat.
He gets a good laugh out when Vlad explains because of a wizard, which was the same circumstance as him but still, he didn't expect a wizard of all things to topple Vlad's empire and turn him into a cat. Said wizard is dead now, but details, details.
Vlad questions where he got Kevin, and Danny is like: "No you can't have him." While hiding Kevin under him, or trying to at least.
Vlad is like: [Wrinkles nose] "I don't want him you imbecile. I'm just curious."
Then they talk for a while, Vlad being filled in a bit about the different Familias around the city, Vlad is impressed that so many cats have what this dimension deems as meta-abilities. Then Vlad goes back, a few days later, and the Gala starts.
Then that Gala was held hostage and Vlad has never been so... done. In his life. The urge to smack his puppet grew, because this guy just wouldn't stop worrying about it.
Vlad is literally with him, why the fuck is he worrying? No harm would come to him when Vlad is around, the idiot.
So, due to losing patience, he went to take care of them. Fur changing from grey to black as night as he used his powers to take care of them.
Whatever fallout happens, he'll leave to his puppet to deal with. for worrying so much.
257 notes · View notes