#because one of them dies in canon at the end of this. we KNOW it ends badly. fuck do we know it ends badly but why are there still 15

[notur-dreamboy]

Assinging the endless to dead boy detectives characters because I can. (With explanations using a mix of comic and tv show lore)

Edwin - dream This was a hard choice, and while Despair was the more Canon choice as she claimed him as her friend in the 7th episode. Alternatively, I like exploring the similarities in dream and Edwin's character arch. In the comics edwin died in 1916 and escaped hell in 1989 much like the show, in the comics dream was kidnapped from 1916-1989 as opossed to the show where he escapes in 2020 or 2021 (I am unsure as to which one) they also both go through archs of finding companionship/acecpting people into their life and finding a greater purpose/finding peace with the one they're given. They're also both the bitchy intellectual type and hate most people.

Charles - destruction. I see so much fan content with him and desire, and while I see the vision, I have to disagree. (I also wanted to save them for the much more obvious choice) Destruction abandoned his position after he saw science being used as a tool for destruction because he didn't want to be the cause of massive devastation or obliteration (paraphrased from destructions page on the sandman wiki) and if that's not so incredibly Charles I don't know what is. Charles arch, we see him deal with this destructive type of anger he wants nothing to do with, so much so he represses all of it with a smile until it becomes too much.

Crystal - destiny. I gave her destiny because her arch and plotting in so intertwined with Edwin and Charles's it feels like it was nothing but destiny. Without her they wouldn't of even noticed the Becky Jackson case, the start of everything. Nothing would've happened without her. Because of her charles faced things he was hiding from himself for years, edwin let other people into his life, they wouldn't of saved niko if Crystal never had that quick interaction with her in episode one. She is so intertwined into everything I wouldn't be surprised if she was crafted by destiny himself.

Niko - death. There are multiple reasons why I gave niko death (including and in spite of the obvious). The biggest one is her future role as the principal, an employee of the afterlife and death. This is also another case of the personalities lining up. Death is seen as welcoming and kind despite being hated and feared as a concept. Death is also seen as wise and understands her role in life she is also the endless dream is closest with. On the sound of her wings when dream is feeling down about his quest for his tools being she allows him to shadow doing her job and offers him advice about his own state. I also just think death and dream's relationship is so similar to niko and Edwin's.

The cat king - desire. Really, this one is obvious. I don't know what you want me to say. His kingdom is all about want and pleasure, wuth is literally desire. His entire role is just to wake edwin up to his own desires. This is such a common concept that the most popular head Canon for him is that he is desires child.

Jenny - despair. I almost gave despair to edwin along with dream given their Canon interaction, but I decided otherwise. We don't know much about Jenny's backstory, but things can be assumed and interpreted certain ways. She owns her family's butcher shop but no family is ever mentioned (outside of a quick anecdote about her father in episode 5 but more on that later), she doesn't seem to have any friends or a social life for that matter. The letters, she reads them and follows up on the but is immediately off put on the idea of a date, which ended horribly. Her father, described as an acholohic and raging narcissist, couldn't have been a man who provided a great childhood either, yet she still took up his butcher shop. We can assume he's out of the picture for one reason or another as Jenny runs the shop herself. The first piece of advice she offers essentially boils down to people who are selfish, it can be assumed this is pulled from personal experience. Jenny is a character surrounded by despair and has grown so comfortable in it she doesn't even notice it anymore.

Tragic mick - delirium. The only endless to have 2 forms, delirium used to be delight before she evolved to delirium for reasons unknown to even destiny. Mick initially seen as comfortable in his human for until we learn about the washer woman. Niko gives him a piece of sea glass in hope it will help but instead we see him descend further into the quite madness he's proven himself into. Then we hear his story, a tragedy about a walrus forec to live the rest of his life as a human because of a bad decision. He's winds up mad (or delirious if you will) by thus decision, now wanting nothing more than to go back to being a walrus.

Bonus (Esther, monty, and the night nurse as various sandman characters) (little explanation, sorry)

Esther- the Corinthian. Created (or blessed) by a god-like deity for a certain purpose but took it too far out of pure selfishness

Monty- Mathew. Simply because they're both anthropomorphic birds.

The night nurse- lucienne/ lucien. A loyal assiant to their respective endless. Certain events cause them to drift from what they've always done or thought.

[starlightshadowsworld]

I love how my recent writings are just giving Atsushi tragic father figures.

We’ve got what it Odasaku took in Atsushi. Cared for him dearly but canon still happens, Odasuku is killed without knowing Atsushi was the only one of his kids that survived. Atsushi ends up back at the orphanage.

And now here in the graveyard scene of Dead Apple, Atsushi recounts everything to Dazai.

Then we had the yeah I don’t buy into the Mori is Atsushi theory…but if it did happen here’s my take on it. And how that could be incorporated into canon.

And now we have hey what if the Old Boss of the Port Mafia took Atsushi in after his parents give him up in exchange for their lives. He raises Atsushi and cares about him.

Until his growing paranoia turns him against him, terrified Atsushi will turn on him first and kill him. He lies to the Port Mafia, telling them Atsushi died.

When in actuality (because Atsushi can’t be killed through normal means) the Old Boss locked him down below with the intent to starve him to death.

And now Dazai, curious about this rumour of a beast beneath the building, finds Atsushi. Still alive and trapped.

Tho that last one is now a fic, it’s Dazatsu, it’s called Tangled Up In Moonlight but yeah dunno why this is my spot for inspiration right now.

Honourable mention to The Fallen King with whatever is going on between Beast Chuuya and Beast Atsushi (and Beast Dazai but he’s dead soo…) though it’s more brothers than anything else.

[amemenojaku]

Akyuu/Reimu for the ship ask, please

hi I um. turned this into akyuurei manifesto. sorry

How differently do they think of each other now compared to when they first met?

I just reread Memorizable Gensokyo and some of the FS chapters where they interact (+the bit at the end of SoPM) back-to-back and it feels like they’ve come to really respect each other. When they first met properly in MG Akyuu tried so hard to impress Reimu, who looked amused by Akyuu’s work but didn’t seem to take her very seriously… I suppose that’s partly because they were younger then. I like that small panel in MG where Reimu introduces herself and Akyuu’s like “:O!!!”… By the time we see them together again in FS, they talk as equals. Reimu acknowledges Akyuu’s authority (she’s still super blunt about the chronicles but that’s Reimu for you lol), and Akyuu trusts Reimu to get the work done when it’s needed. They know they can rely on each other. I’d even go as far as to say Reimu treats Akyuu with a bit more softness than she does a lot of characters… She worries about Akyuu walking all the way up to the shrine in a latter FS chapter, she doesn’t chastise Akyuu for organizing the symposium in SoPM despite how pissed she is at the other participants (although I do think she was still hurt… more on that below), etc. As they are now they see each other as individuals more than roles I think, which is an important part of their dynamic (and also of Reimu pairings in general imo).

What do their friends/family think of their relationship?

They’d be the type to go in circles for a while before committing to something. Take their time with it. Past a certain point Marisa and Kosuzu start scheming to get them together (much to the concerned parties’ annoyance). When it finally happens they’d be teasing but supportive. I think the relationship would be kept secret for a time… Some people still manage to sniff it out though, Yukari for example; she’d be satisfied with it. Two people she has a weird close situationship with, together? That works. There might be some gossip about them… But if/when they make it official to everyone, I honestly think they’d be blessed by most of the village – it’s the Hakurei shrine maiden and the head of the Hieda clan after all! Might break a few nameless village women’s hearts though…

How do their personalities/skills complement or contrast with each other?

They have a ton of parallels (human but not quite; role directly tied to the survival of the world they live in; bridge between humans and youkai, etc) but also a few differences both symbolically (Akyuu doesn’t fly (she’s grounded to (a relative) reality), Reimu is literally the power to fly (transcends reality); Reimu is the “eternal shrine maiden”, Akyuu doesn’t live past 30 (but even that can be turned into a parallel with Akyuu’s reincarnations*), etc) and in terms of personality (Akyuu being calmer in general and displaying better social skills). Imo it’s one of the relationships with the most interesting balance between contrast and similarities… They’re the same girl but they’re also on two different sides of the same coin and the pining that comes out of it is SO good.

*if you look too hard into this like I do you’ll see the child of Miare’s reincarnation gimmick as a parallel to how it’s implied that the past Hakurei shrine maidens were replaced often (died quickly?)

What is their favorite aspect of each other?

In canon, I’d say it’s how reliable they find each other. They’ve worked together/consulted one another a few times in FS for matters related to the human village, and despite some differences in opinion they’re on the same wavelength on a lot of issues. Now, with my yuri goggles on…. I think it’d be really sweet if they could make each other feel normal. If their similarities brought them together on a level different from their other friendships, where they can understand the weight of each other’s role and that whole “human but not quite” thing they share, and be able to completely treat each other as ordinary. I really really like it when a character with a lot of obligations gets to just be themselves, and I also love it when two characters who’re both special or generally “apart” from everyone else grow close thanks to that, so I’m just mashing things I enjoy lol

Do either of them have pet peeves about each other?

I like to think Akyuu has a healthy lifestyle and her days go like clockwork (except when she’s close to a writing deadline), so she’d probably find some of the situations Reimu ends up in very frustrating. I think that fits well with the fact that Akyuu doesn’t always realize how high her quality of life is and can sometimes act a bit inconsiderate towards people who aren’t as rich as her. Meanwhile Reimu’s a very honest, very blunt person who struggles with keeping secrets for long (see Forbidden Scrollery’s ending), so she probably wouldn’t like some of the secrets Akyuu keeps at times. But Akyuu’s an important figure to the human villagers and she does take her role as a chronicler seriously, so there must be moments she has to prioritize her obligations over honesty. I think that kind of contrast is very interesting.

How would each reconcile with each other after a fight?

They’re both stubborn… But I see Reimu as the first to try to reconcile most of the time. Her soft spot for Akyuu would take over her natural pride imo. So she makes the first move. Akyuu takes longer, but her apologies are sincere.

Buuut there’s one time I can imagine Reimu completely withdrawing into her shell and refusing to even acknowledge that she’s really upset at Akyuu until confronted about it: SoPM. I won’t ever be able to explain it better than que-de-metal did right here so I recommend reading it!!

What would be their ideal vacation getaway together?

Hot spring resort. Quiet, relaxing and good for Akyuu’s health! And plenty of time for Reimu to laze around and read mystery novels. (I’m projecting… I miss onsens…….)

Think of a new way (AU, different situation, etc.) they could have met for the first time.

I’m honestly a bit upset that Memorizable Gensokyo is when they first met proper, even though there’s no way the Hieda family isn’t regularly in contact with the Hakurei shrine maiden. I think it’d be cute if they met when they were both kids and Reimu was in training with her predecessor and they were both called at the Hieda mansion for something. Extra points if Akyuu was intrigued by Reimu’s natural powers and that’s where her desire to impress her in MG comes from, and if Reimu barely remembers that meeting (like with Alice in PCB).

[orphiclovers]

Hear me out about yjh and blondes: 999 yjh x Uriel

YES I'm so into this pairing you have no idea. and lol about the blonde thing. yjh has a type.

I've talked about them some under the tag #999yjhuri (ship name pending...) so check that out but yeah I love them they're canon to me! I don't even know where to start talking about them because I have so much to say

The thing is that Uriel loved her captain so much. 999 is the only turn we know of where she was one of Yoo Joonghyuk's companions and it's sooo significant to that round specifically because she is an ANGEL and a constellation of the Absolute Good system!

Uriel saw this one man who sacrificed everything for his companions and decided she wanted to fight by his side. He was the 'good' she saw in the world. And then she had to stand by helplessly and watch as his soul and body withered from the outer world covenant. and see up close as with the same noble sacrifice she fell in love with he destroyed himself.

But they thought they could make it to the end of the scenarios at least, they were so close, but then at the very last moment he DIED IN HER ARMS!!! And she lost her mind with grief and swore eternal vengeance upon the one who took him away.

The good in her soul died with him! She who was the righteous 'absolute good' angel of Eden for thousands of years was so broken by his death she chose to become evil, to become the very thing she swore to destroy

And of course this neatly ties into spuri, the one who was the object of her single minded obsession for thousands of years. Even to the point when it made no sense, when she learned who he was, it didn't matter because the bloody path of vengeance was all she had and all that kept her alive.

And then there's the huge complicated mess of what SP thinks about 999 Uriel. His careful neutrality when she attempts to kill him and burns down his forest with all the inhabitants. The was he doesn't react because he thinks he is reaping what he sowed. He says to Kim Dokja that this is the consequences of his mistake - sees her as a divine punishment for his sins in the 999th regression rather than as a person who wants to kill him

And at the same time in his mind there exists 999, who, quote off the top of my head, 'sighs in lamentation at the sun' when she attacks N'gai. 999 is COMPLICATED and I won't get into his insane psychology in this post but in short, he feels pity for her and all the rest of his companions who turned into outer gods (and also SP...) but makes the frankly correct decision to not come back to them even though he technically COULD, because it would cheapen everything they went through. There is no way to turn back time and save your fallen companion, even when there is. He KNOWS they live in his memory and that's why he can never return (kim dokja anyone...). He does his best to stay dead, even in his afterlife.

And, stay with me here, there's the love triangle of it all.

Both Uri and SP wanted to save 999 but neither of them could. And she despises SP for killing the love of her life but they both wanted the same thing, for 999 to be happy!

I think about SPuri in the post epilogue OD household. Even though Uriel accepted that 999 wouldn't come back and gave up her futile revenge quest against SP, there's still lingering awkwardness and tension there. After hating him for so long it's difficult to act normal around him. I imagine she treats him with civil distance.

And then, when SP does something small that reminds her of 999, she has to look away to remind herself that 999 didn't want to come back and to respect his decision, berating herself for mistaking SP for the man she loves, which is disrespectful to them both.

Even though SP didn't often think of 999 and himself as the same person, I think spending all his time around the 999th turns companions + having 999s memories in his head would inevitably bring out old habits and that side of him more. To all around bittersweet feelings from the outer gods, not just Uriel

[triumviiirate]

i spend a lot of time thinking about the empty space between jim and bones at spock's funeral

[ultimatemissadhd]

the fact that Kyoko and Makoto in the canon get a happy ending,

after everything they've been through,

after thinking they wouldn't live till their twenties,

after downs and ups of their relationships,

after thinking the other died at some points,

after seeing the most cruel things,

after being put on the pressure of saving the world,

after solving tons of mysteries together,

after losing everything,

they get to live a happy, peaceful life, alive and well,

they get to live until they die of old age peacefully tougher,

they get to think about things like marriage and starting a family, something they didn't think they would live long enough to do,

they get to deal with their traumas in healthy environments, they get to help eachother with their problems,

they get to bring actual hope to students of Hope's Peak Academy and make sure none of them has to go through what they did,

all of this is what makes me extremely happy

[itsmistyeyedbi]

This might be a silly question but...do anyone of your detective's believe in fate? Why or why not? Did their view of it change after meeting Unit Bravo and experiencing the events of the twc books?

[hopeworth]

do you ever read a 200k word fic with an impending sense of doom. this is going to end badly. this is not a happy ending.

[lionblaze03-2]

personally I don’t hate gray wing nearly as much as everyone else because he’s a great example of having rose colored glasses just because ‘well, he’s family’, and not realizing until far too late that that essentially ruined his life and made him amount to almost nothing. Because clear sky is his brother, he wants to assume the best of him. Surely, my brother would never. Surely he didn’t mean it like that. Surely he’ll do better next time. He’s my brother. He COULDN’T be a bad guy. So he keeps giving him chances, over and over and over again, until it’s completely destroyed him. Until he can no longer breathe, his lungs full of toxic smoke that clear sky abandoned him to breathe in, until he is under his claws, nearly killed under the moonlight, until his people are battered again and again, until borders become inevitable. But he never, ever realizes, because- it’s his brother. Surely, his brother will do better next time. Surely, he didn’t mean it. Surely, he will change.

And believing that is the death of him.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

To Ruin. // Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

THIS IS A DARK FIC, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

Summary: you are aegon's and helaena's daughter, being the eldest triplet, you were betrothed to your older uncle Aemond the moment you were born, he seemed to show no interest in you, being lost in his own world until he returns to kings landing and sees you again, in your prime age. // based on this request.

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, p in v sex, fingering, orgasm denial, knife kink, blood kink, dacryphilia, breeding kink, choking kink, corruption kink, purity culture, age system is in accordance to medieval/canon standards and not modern but do not worry they dont get sexual until reader is 19, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, thoughts of violence, fucked up shit, age gap (13 years), extreme canon divergence, cunty aemond + not proofread

WC: 4.3k

The moment you were born, you were immediately betrothed to your uncle, Aemond Targaryen. Alicent never wanted to betroth or marry someone from the same family after Aegon and Helaena but Otto convinced her to do so, even if they see it as a sin. Telling her that it would secure the hightower blood further down the line.

When Aemond was informed of this, he laughed, he was just thirteen back then, the idea of marrying someone that was just born seemed comical to him, especially when the babe was his elder sister's and elder brother's daughter, but he quickly accepted it, as he realised it was his duty.

Aegon however, was against it, calling you too young, but he was only sixteen at that time so his opinion was disregarded.

You were the oldest by an hour to your younger siblings, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

You were informed of your betrothal to your uncle when you were ten years old, that's when they deemed you old enough to understand what marriage and everything was. Aemond had turned twenty three that year, performing his duties as the prince of the realm, securing aegon's claim to the throne, claiming lands and power back to their hands successfully. At the end, Rhaenyra was successfully usurped, having lost way too much before she died at the hands of Aegon. And then came Aemond's march to Harrenhal, killing off every person that contained even a single droplet of the strong blood, except he spared one, Alys rivers, who he took as his war spoil and a bedmate.

He spent most of his time there with her in Harrenhal, burying himself deep inside of her, and other political matters, only returning to King's Landing when he was needed, just like now, but what he didn't expect was you. He was surprised to see you.

You were no more the gangly limbed child he knew you as and remembered you to be, your breasts and hips were fuller, your face having lost its childlike appearance as you were going through puberty, becoming more sharp and mature, having recently turned seventeen, You were becoming a woman now. You greeted him with a small smile. “Welcome back, Uncle.” you greeted him and he swallowed thickly, hoping you had not noticed how his breeches tightened as he got hard at the sight of you. Your beauty captured him.

“Niece, you've grown.” he comments, eyes shamelessly roaming over your breasts, which you weren't aware of, “You too Uncle, it has been a while since we properly saw each other.” you tell him and he hums, looking at the soft flush of your breasts pushing against the bodice, almost calling out to him to set them free, he fought with every urge to not do so.

It was when he spent some time with you, he realised he didn't know you at all, so he put in effort into knowing you, courting you properly which you were taken aback by, always knowing him to be distant towards you, but that was only because you were a child, you are a woman now, and he was a lot interested and willing to be with you.

It was on your eighteenth name day, which he attended, when he cut off multiple ladies tongues out for bad mouthing you, they had said mean things about you, calling you too old now, that nobody would be interested in marrying you if your betrothal to Aemond was called off, which was unsurprisingly a rumor circulating due to Aemond's involvement with Alys, his disinterest in you and your grandmother, Alicent, doing nothing to make the betrothal move forward. It had been a messy name day but it was also the moment you fell in love with your uncle, impressed by how he defended your honour and your name.

Aemond had to return to harrenhal as there were some pressing issues which needed to be taken care of, and he was less than enthusiastic about it, not even the thought of seeing his spoil made him excited. He was sitting on his chair doing the paperwork when Alys walked into the room, she sat on his lap and caressed his face, “What is it my love?” she cooed and he sighed heavily, not in the mood for her, “Get out.” he said, and Alys was heavily hurt by it, but left nonetheless. His mind was constantly on you, he remembers how your breasts pressed against his chest when you hugged him during your name day, and he immediately gets hard at the thought, that night, he finishes in his hand before cleaning himself up.

You had plagued his mind, cause he couldn't look at his lover nor bed her anymore because she isn't you, he was becoming more and more insatiable, tired of fucking his own hand, he was in need of a real cunt.

He stopped ordering silk green dresses for Alys and instead ordered dresses of material you would wear, the colour palette you dearly loved, and requested her to wear those instead, and do her hair up in a way you did, so he could at least pretend she was you when he fucked her, moaning your name loudly while being buried inside of her cunt. He knew he was being cruel to Alys, but he couldn't give a fuck, and Alys kept quiet, not wanting to anger him, knowing that he could kill her.

But it still wasn't enough, no, because it wasn't you.

Aemond was so delighted when he was called to the keep again, it means he got to see you, it was to discuss matters of the realm, and after what seems like hours, his mother finally changes the topic. Which catches his immediate attention.

“I think it is in our best interest if you marry aemond and y/n soon, maybe in a moons time, there have been various slanderous whispers about their betrothal, and i want to put an end to it.” Alicent says and Aemonds heart picks up it's pace at that. “It's better if we call off the betrothal.” Aegon's voice booms across the chambers. “I do not think it is necessary anymore, not after we have won the war. Rhaenyra is dead, the blacks are dead, my daughter shouldn't need to marry her uncle anymore.” Aegon reasons and Aemond clicks his tongue, “It is my duty brother, to keep our valyrian blood pure, I do not mind marrying my niece.” Aemond replies and Aegon sighs. “You need not perform your duty anymore, she is my daughter, and I do not wish her to be subjected to your cruelty, little brother.”

“My cruelty? What of your whoring?” Aemond grits his teeth, and Alicent visibly flinches at the mention but Aegon only laughs, “I have put it past me dear brother. You however, still are as merciless.” and Aemond scoffs.

“I want to marry her.” Aemond says, tone final, staring daggers at Aegon, and he just laughed. “Alright, Alright, it was merely a suggestion.” Aegon backs down which makes Aemond calm down. “The matter is settled then, the wedding will take place when the moon turns.” Alicent says and everyone nods.

Another moon to finally bed you? Gods be damned, he cannot wait that long.

So he didn't.

He snuck into your chambers that night, through the secret tunnels, he had expected you to be asleep but you were awake, sitting on the chaise, reading a book of some sort, but you didn't hear him enter your chambers, so you jumped when you heard him speak.

“Hello, Niece.” you snapped your head to the direction of the voice and were surprised to find Aemond.

“Uncle? What are you doing here” you asked and he just stalked towards you, “Mhm, is it wrong to see my future wife?” the word wife rolling off his tongue with such delicacy. “No- you misunderstand- i merely meant that–”

“What are you reading?” he asks, cutting you off and coming even more closer to you, he took the book from your hand and you stood up, feeling vulnerable when you were just sitting.

“A romance novel huh?” he asks and you nod, he would love to go through the content to tease you, but he had no interest in wasting his time, he came here with a purpose.

“Dear niece, we are to be wed in a moons time.” he says and you look at him, “Understood, Uncle.” his gaze was too intense, so you looked down in submission of a sort.

He felt his cock stir at that, the way your puffy lips were pouty, eyes darted to the ground, like a good obedient and innocent wife.

Oh seven hells how he wanted to ruin you.

And so he would.

You were surprised when Aemond threw the book on the chair before grabbing you by your arms and pushing you in the direction of your bed, he slammed his lips against yours in hunger, swiping your bottom lip with his tongue, you were frozen in shock before it finally clicked and you used all your strength to push him off.

“We-we shouldn't, we are yet to be man and wife.” you breathe heavily, hoping he'd understand but he doesn't. He pushes you down unto the bed before getting on top of you, you panic, “U-uncle- please.” you were scared.

You knew how dishonourable it is to lose your maidenhead before marriage, it will ruin your reputation, it did not matter whether the person who took it was soon to be your husband. It is a sin, and you were extremely protective over it. After all, your grandmother raised you to be protective of it, saying it is a woman's honour that should not be given carelessly.

“P-please uncle! You said we were to be wed in a Moon's time, then you can have me! Please!” you beg and he smirks, “No can do, niece. No way in seven hells am I waiting that long, not after I have suffered so much because of you.” he says, and before you can say something, he grabs your throat, choking you, “Shut the fuck up. I do not want to hear your pleas.” he says meanly before squeezing your neck tight, making you see stars and leaving your head feeling light as the blood supply to your brain was being cut off due to his ministrations.

“P-pl-ple-” you try to choke out, tears welling in your eyes until he finally lets go of your throat, causing you to gasp for air, the air entering your lungs so quickly making it painful.

Aemond takes the dagger from its holder and starts cutting, tearing up your nightgown, the sound of clothes tearing filling the chambers as you pleaded him to get off of you, how your virtue was an important thing to preserve, how embarrassing it would be if you did not bleed on your wedding night, but all of that fell deaf to his ears, his only mission was to fuck you.

Soon enough, you are completely bare, you crossed your arms across your chest to protect your dignity but he pulled them apart, pinning them to your sides, “Do not hide yourself from me.” he said, voice low, emitting a slow growl. You sobbed.

“P-please, I promise I won't resist or hide myself from you- just wait until our wedding night, I am begging-” he shuts you up by pushing his lips against yours, his hands leave yours before he starts undressing himself, undoing the clasps on his clothing, he pulled apart to completely rid himself of his clothes, feeling to suffocated.

He was very fit, lean muscles coating his body, defining and toning his arms, chest and thighs, you felt yourself clench at the sight of him so bare, you were beginning to get aroused.

Aemond leans and places gentle kisses on your face, before trailing down your neck to lick and bite at them, you felt a burning sensation when he bit too hard, causing you to yelp, he pulled back and looked at the bite in satisfaction, which was now drawing blood. You whimpered pathetically.

You didn't like the feeling of ache between your thighs.

Aemond leaned down once again to take one breast into his mouth, suckling on it like a hungry babe, causing you to gasp, your breasts were extra sensitive considering you were near your moons blood, you gripped his hair and tried to pull him away but, he bit down harshly onto to your nipple making you tug harder at his hair for the pain to subside, however the more you tried pulling him off, the harder his bit and latched on, the other hand painfully dug into the flesh of your other breast, nails biting through the skin, so you removed your grip on his hair, and only then did he stop his inflictions of pain on your tits, beginning to suckle at your nipple in a pleasurable way,

Your hand reflexively went to his hair again, but this time instead of trying to pull him, you held him there like that, arching your back when you felt his warm tongue tickle the bud, shoving more of your breast into his mouth, he hummed in satisfaction before he pulled away with a wet pop, to continue the same thing on your other breast.

It was sensual, it was so slow, and you were getting aroused by the minute but your fear of committing a grave sin still plagued your mind.

“A-aemond-” you say his name making him groan and pull away to look at you, “Gods, when you say my name like that- it makes me want to ruin you so fucking hard.” he confesses and you gulp, his hands part your thighs, exposing your core to him.

You try to clench them shut in reflex but he holds them apart, visibly drawn by it, you felt the cool air hit your clit making you shiver, he trails his hand down your inner thigh before rubbing small circles there, teasing you.

You whine, the ache beginning to get even more stronger, making you buck your hips, hoping his hand grazes over the sensitive part, but he just chuckles, “Greedy are we? What happened to waiting till marriage?” he mocks you and you fight back the tears of shame, he then presses his fingers right onto your core, parting the flesh and caressing your clit, you twitch at the foreign sensation.

His other hand leaves your thigh as well, and he uses both of his thumbs to hold the flesh covering your core apart before he leans down and sucks on your pearl, making you arch your back in pleasure, his tongue flickers over your bud constantly, sending sparks of pleasure.

You were shocked when he did that, how can someone put their mouth over there?

Your hips start to move on their own, trying to keep up with his rhythm, he groans at your attempts and pulls away, you whine at the lack of warmth, “Be still.” he says and descends onto your clit again, and you try really hard to be still but you couldn't help it, you grip his hair, shoving his face into your cunt to the point he was suffocating but it didn't matter to him, this would be the best way to die according to him.

You feel something creeping up at your core, a itch that keeps plaguing you, a certain type of string tightening constantly as he continued his actions, you were confused until you were snapped out of your own confusion by an overwhelming feeling of pleasure hitting your body, causing you to moan loudly into the chambers. Aemond drinks up your release like a dehydrated man before pulling away and looking at your face, he chuckles when he finds you looking confused and dazed, eyes teary, wondering what the feeling was.

“It's called a peak, my love, was it your first time?” he answers, staring at your face and you tilted your head in confusion.

Women can peak?

You knew how the act is performed, the cock goes into the cunt, and you're supposed to lay there taking it as your husband impregnates you. It was taught to you by your grandmother alicent, it was supposed to hurt, not feel intimate. If you're lucky, you'd get a few kisses on your face and neck.

But what aemond did was so foreign, you didn't know you could experience sexual pleasure like this.

“Y-yes, but i- i didn't know.” you blush while saying it, you don't need to finish the sentence before aemond caught on and Aemond almost moaned at the thought that you didn't know anything, that you probably thought that sexual pleasure can only be felt by a man.

Oh how he was going to show you all the ways.

Oh how he was going to corrupt you.

He smirked.

You looked up at him, the tears from the orgasm threatening to fall, and oh gods how that made him want to be extremely cruel, he wanted to ruin you. It set off his blood thirst, something he would only feel while fighting during battles, when he burnt the riverlands with vhagar, when he took the life of his own uncle, when he slaughtered the strong house watching as the blood coats the ground, the screams of men, women and children alike. He hadn't felt that in a while considering the war was long over.

And so he would.

His eyes trail over to the dagger that laid forgotten on the bed, and he reached out for it, changing his grip and pointing the blade at the direction of your body, you look at him in what seemed like fear but he didn't care, he brought the blade down gently, and then pressed it against your skin, piercing through the skin. You winced at the burning sensation, he removed the blade and watched as beads of blood poured out, he leaned down and licked it all up, the iron tasting sweet to him.

You whimpered in pain, feeling the twinge, when the wound was met with his saliva, causing an even more burning sensation to plague at your skin.

He pulled back and watched as the blood smeared onto the surrounding skin, the wound already trying to close up. He looked at your pained expression and decided that he wouldn't be that cruel and scar your body as much as he would've loved to since it was your first time with him, he needed to leave a good impression after all. When you're truly his wife, he'd ruin so much.

He watched as the tears fell down your face, he licked them up before pressing gentle kisses to your eyes. “Shh.. It's okay, I won't do more.” he says and you whimper, trusting him.

He pulls back and grabs his hard leaking cock. The tip all flushed pink, it looked so painful.

It was painful, he was so fucking hard the entire time, he was trying to savour everything before he fully went in, but he realised he had no such patience for that.

He lined it against your cunt, and slid his cock up and down, coating him in your juice before he caught the tight hole which wouldn't open at all, and he realised he needed to prepare more for you to be able to take him.

So he replaced his cock with his fingers, shoving one inside you slowly, feeling all the ridges of your inner walls, wishing it was his cock that was inside you.

He started pumping in and out, curling his fingers from time to time to graze over the rough part located inside you, and you felt your stomach tightening again, and before you could reach your peak, Aemond pulled his fingers out. “H-huh?” you looked at him confused and he smiled meanly before shoving his fingers once again, and making you come to the edge but never topple over it, pulling out every time you were so close. It made you frustrated.

He decided you were relaxed enough to take his cock, so he replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing the tip inside, making you grip your bedsheets underneath tightly.

He wanted to go slow, let you adjust to him, but it was way too much, he finally got to be inside you after what felt like way too long, these past few years he always dreamt of this moment, so he lost control and slammed himself fully inside you cruelly, pushing to the hilt, making you scream in pain, which he shushed you by cooing you and caressing your cheek.

Your legs twitched visibly, he pulled back, thinking he was taking his cock out, you relaxed but then he slammed into you, causing you yelp and then he started pulling and pushing over and over again, the pace messy at the first because your walls were still trying to adjust to him, sometimes even pushing him out.

But then as the continued thrusting, the pain slowly went away and you felt pleasure beginning to rise, causing you to relax around, and he moaned in pleasure when he felt you loosen up around him, not holding his cock in a tight grip that made it impossible to move without hurting you.

He fastened his pace, unable to hold himself back, he fucked into you brutally, breaking your maidenhead, he watched the sight of your maiden blood coating his dick leaking onto the white sheets below, and he moaned your name.

The chamber was filled with lewd noises, wet slapping sounds as his hips rammed against yours, his balls slapping at your ass as he thrusted in and out, sweat coating his eyebrow, he was grunting loudly, he wasn't usually a vocal person, but with you? you bought out the worst in him.

He felt his peak beginning to come, but he wanted you to peak first, so his hand went over to your clit and rubbed small circles over it, and the pleasure intensified for you, you peaked extremely hard, wet fluid gushing out of you, all because of the multiple denied orgasms finally catching up to you.

Aemond moaned as he watched your juice coating his cock, and he was reaching his peak too, “Fuck- fuck- going to fill you up, with my seed, watching you grow round with my child in your belly.” he babbled and reached his peak, his cock twitching inside you, shooting ropes after ropes of cum, coating your walls.

He didn't pull out, staying inside, making sure his seed didn't spill, he began to soften inside you.

He pulled and held you close to him, before he propped down on your bed, pulling you on top of him, his cock slipping from inside you at that, you laid on top of him, head on his chest as you listened to his fast heartbeat, it was relaxing for an odd reason.

He grabbed the sheets and threw them over both of you, covering you and himself and then slowly drifting off to sleep.

The maid couldn't have picked the worst time to enter the chamber in the morning, she usually entered without knocking since you and her were close, but she gasped when she found you stop aemond cuddled and then noticed the blood on the sheets, it didn't take a genius to figure out what went on, and she quickly reported it to the dowager queen.

Enraged was an understatement. Alicent was extremely disappointed, barging into the room, by then aemond had already put on his breeches and he was confused when he saw her, then he figured it out.

You woke up, gripping the sheets tightly to your chest as you watched your grandmother yell at her son, your uncle.

And just then your father barged in, along with your mother, she quickly rushed over to you to check if you were alright and looked at her younger brother in disappointment.

Aegon had never been angry like that in his life, he went straight for Aemond, tackling him to the ground, trying to hit him, “You ruined her! Couldn't your ass wait until the wedding? What was it that made you so impatient?” Aegon yelled at his brother, and Aemond dodged every hit Aegon threw his way.

“Fucking CUNT!” He was mad, and one of hits finally landed on Aemond, punching him right in the face.

“Father! No! Please.” you yelled, but he didn't listen and that's when you started sobbing loudly, which made him immediately halt and rush over to you. Aemond spit the blood that coated his mouth on the ground and got up.

“My dear.” Aegon looked at you sadly, noticing all the cruelty Aemond left on your body.

“The wedding is to be held in a week.” Alicent's voice booms the chambers

“Mother you cannot be serious! He-” the king tried to reason with her, but she looked at him with a stern expression and he backed down, he was the king yes, but he knew he would never stand a chance against his own mother.

Aemond simply smirked, accomplishing what he had wanted, Aegon glared at him.

“Please, I want to be alone.” you say and everyone looks at you, you were extremely tired and you didn't want this hassle.

The matter came to an end like that, you watched everyone leave reluctantly, except Aemond, you looked at Aemond, waiting for him to leave, but instead he sat down next to you and made himself comfortable in your presence.

Aegon grit his teeth, turning around to storm into the room but Alicent and Helaena held him back, and you didn't say anything else, but leaned your head on Aemonds shoulder.

That told everyone what you wanted and they soon left, you allowed yourself to get comfortable in his presence. Slowly falling asleep.

“My sweet girl.” you heard him coo before the sleep finally pulled you under.

[wellcollapse]

buddie is canonically romantic. to Me.

eddie was introduced to buck slow-motion style. buck tried to battle his inner bisexual rage for an entire episode but couldn’t stay angry at eddie’s pretty face for longer than twenty minutes — my guy folded the minute eddie extended that first olive branch. buck wistfully watched eddie and the little boy he would come to love as a son through a glass-paneled window not knowing that he’d eventually belong on the other side of that glass door. buck provided the solution to eddie’s very first on-screen struggle and wormed his way into eddie’s heart and home all in the span of one episode. without eddie asking him for any of it. buck called eddie attractive at least three times in season two alone. and then an elf called them gay and buck skipped away after hearing it. eddie gave buck the most precious thing in his life to cheer him up. and buck lost him. but eddie came back to him anyway and then gave him the second most precious thing — something he couldn’t even give his own wife — his trust. they had a lover’s spat in a grocery store. buck was treated like a grieving widow when eddie was buried underground. eddie’s memories of buck and chris were enough to pull him back from death’s cold embrace. eddie nearly bit buck's head off at the train derailment because he couldn’t stand the idea of buck risking his own life for abby. when eddie was shot, he spent the moment he thought would be his very last reaching out for his best friend. buck saved him. of course he did. eddie was planning to stick it out with a woman he knew he could never love and would never love until buck reminded him that he deserved better. buck got pistol-whipped after nearly going off on someone who threatened their eddie's child. eddie left the 118 and buck made out with his replacement. buck was in the room. buck's girlfriend talked to the woman he cheated on her with and buck never once bothered to intervene because he was too busy spending time with eddie. buck helped eddie patch up the holes in his wall. buck spent an entire season looking for the right couch to rest on and then passed out within seconds on eddie's couch. the right couch. buck was struck by lightning and eddie's hands brought him back to life. eddie couldn't look at buck while he was in a coma because it reminded him a little too much of losing his wife. but he brought christopher in anyway. of course he did. they went on a date where eddie stared at buck like he wanted to consume him. a little part of eddie died in that cemetery. eddie asked buck to perform Official Coparenting Duties with his son. buck uttered eddie's name eleven times in the episode where he discovered his bisexuality. buck was left at the curb on his first date with a man and his first priority was still the fact that he lied to his best friend. both of them actively looked like they wanted to die at the idea of nothing changing between them. eddie suggested matching couple's costumes. they sang what i like about you. buck ripped off eddie's shirt. eddie poured beer in his mouth. buck was the one to pull eddie out of the world that he tried to imagine with kim. their final scene of the season was the two of them. alone. together.

...who the hell is that? you can have my back any day. there's nobody in this world i trust with my son more than you. are you hurt? three minutes and seventeen seconds. comes in handy when you have a bunch of holes in your walls. you don’t have to tell me how great eddie is, i’ve known that since the first day i worked with him. what you always do. talk to him. you know how much christopher misses you? how could you. you're not around. i forgive you. you didn't end up like you. you act like you're expendable, but you're wrong. you were missed. thank you. for not giving up. he got the help he needed and that started with you. two cut lines. you don't have to be anything for anybody. can't you both be good cops? no. isn't that what we all want in a partner? knowing that they have your back? he’ll love you like we all do. i love you, i love you, i love you.

buck and eddie’s story is already a romance. regardless of their current relationship status in canon, their story is already a love story. and i wouldn't have it any other way.

[theonlymadmanonmars]

Hi hello hi. As an AroAce individual in a QPR who has no desire for a romantic or sexual relationship, I think shipping Alastor in QPRs is so so fun and people should do it more. I also think it works for a good amount if not all of the ships I've seen him in.

Alastor and Rosie: Hell yeah. They're already great friends and every interaction we've seen between them has been pure and adorable. Rosie Gently guiding Alastor through his identity because he isn't exactly up with the slang. Them going out for tea and human flesh Sunday afternoons. Them giving each other forehead kisses and holding hands platonically.

Alastor and Angle dust: Mhmm. Angle not really wanting Sex or romance after all he's been through. Angle respecting Alastor's identity and not pushing for anything more than friendship. Alastor not really liking Angle at first because of their differences, But tolerating him regardles. Alastor explaining to Angle that Romantic relationships don't have to involve Sex (I'm an Asexual Angle truther.) Angle offering Alastor a hug that Alastor reluctantly accepts. Them cuddling at night with a pinky Promise of nothing more.

Alastor and Vox: Go ahead. A fic about Alastor trying to Navigate exactly how he feels about Vox, Because when he died the term AroAce didn't exist, so he thinks it's romantic attraction, Maybe they kiss and Alastor is like "Ha! No!" Maybe that's why they had their falling out? Who knows.

Alastor and Lucifer: So So SO much Yes. (This is my personal favorite) The two of them hating each other, but putting up for each other for Charlie's sake. Slowly growing to actually tolerate and maybe even like being around the other. Exchanging snarky remarks in a more playful way. Alastor finding Lucifer sitting in a pile of ducks and despair and offering his hand to help him up and take him to the hotel. Never letting go of his hand. Fuck Enemies to Friends to Lovers I want an Enemies to Friends to Qpr arc goddamnit.

I do think it's okay to ship Alastor even outside of QPR's, BUT. If you do, don't just ignore Alastor's identity. AroAce people get far less representation than the rest of the LGBTQ+ community. I can think of one other canon Character off the top of my head. So it's not okay to erase the little rep we do get. In the end I think it's important to listen to what AroAce people have to say on the matter, it is our representation after all.

[satoruxx]

SAUDADE.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 3.7k words

✧ SUMMARY: canon au, set after geto leaves so lots of unresolved feelings, alternate between past and present, megumi and tsumiki cameo, satoru has a raging crush on you but you're blind, suguru also had a raging crush on you but you were still blind, slight angst bc canon jjk events, lots of longing on suguru's end, you're confused af, satoru PINES for you and shoko is so tired of him, but overall very fluffy

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: will i ever publish the actual canon au? who knows. this fic is written in that same au but it's just a snippet of their lives. if you've read angel on my shoulder, just know that's an alternate ending of this au where reader dies lol. but this is very sweet bc you don't die !! you and satoru love each other lots but suck at showing it. happy valentine's day everyone <33

you glance at satoru's giddy smile, wariness creeping up your shoulders before turning to shoko. "what's wrong with him?" you ask, shifting slightly from where you're leaning against one of balconies of jujutsu high.

"who knows?" she sighs, eyes flickering up to glance at the snowy haired sorcerer just barely before they turn back to you. "ignore him."

"hey!" satoru huffs, walking closer to sling an arm around your shoulder—casual, like it's something he doesn't have to think about. you grumble under the extra weight, shooting him a glare, but he's too busy smiling like he's up to something.

"so…" he grins down at you, eyes shining and full of mischief. "know what day it is today?"

you blink at him, trying to scour your brain. "what's the date again?"

satoru gives you a blank stare, before sighing heavily. "god you're slow. it's february 14th, stupid."

"oh," you reply blankly, relaxing because it's nothing inherently important. "so valentine's day?"

satoru's smile comes back full force—cheeky and blinding. "exactly! and when i went shopping today guess what happened?"

"what happened?" shoko asks boredly, shaking her head when she makes eye contact with you.

"well," he drags out the word, crossing his arms like he's pleased with himself. "i was walking along after picking up some sweets because—"

"because you have an addiction," you supplement, and satoru pauses to glare down at you, reaching out to flick a long finger against your forehead.

"it's not an addiction! and don't interrupt me! anyways—"

you smother a smile that shoko mirrors.

"—i was walking and then these two girls came up to me all smiley. like they were giggling and shit, right?"

"uh huh."

"and they started going on and on about how i was the most handsome guy they've ever seen. and then they asked how come i was walking around by myself on valentine's day."

you blink, suddenly feeling a strange mix of interest and irritation.

"so i told them that it's not really my thing and that i didn't have anyone to celebrate with anyway. and then they said it was actually a crime that someone like me was single on valentine's day."

you have to suppress a roll of your eyes, though you're not sure why.

"so basically the moral of the story is that i'm extremely charming and super good-looking too! and that girls love me!"

he looks at you, eyes scrutinizing your expression as you glance at shoko, unimpressed.

"that's it? that's your crazy story?"

"well you guys always say i'm full of it when i call myself hot! now i have proof that it's a universal truth!"

"well we're not stupid—" shoko rolls her eyes, hugging her arms to push away the cold as she leans against the railing. "—we know you're freakishly hot. you're just obnoxious and we like teasing you."

"ugh." satoru rolls his eyes, huffing as he stretches his joints. "you guys are ridiculous. and—"

he pauses, an odd expression crossing his face as he blinks in thought. then he's turning to you with the most smug smirk you've ever seen on him. "wait. you think i'm hot?"

you frown, lips parting in mild confusion. "huh?"

"that's what shoko just said. that you think i'm freakishly hot."

your brows shoot up, an unfamiliar rush of heat crawling up your skin. "but she said both of us! like it's just something that's obvious. i mean as long as you have eyes anyone can see—"

"oh so it's obvious, is it?" satoru's expression is oddly giddy, a pink flush settling high on his cheekbones.

you gape at him, suddenly speechless. you don't remember satoru ever having the ability to make you speechless before.

you can't comprehend the stirring in your chest—uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

"you—" you scoff, reaching up to shove him away. "you're full of shit. doesn't change no matter how hot you are."

shoko has gone quiet, eyes darting between you and satoru with an uncharacteristic glint of curiosity. but satoru's gaze does not stray away from you, pearly whites on full display as he licks his lips. he doesn't say anything else, running his fingers through his hair.

"sure sure," satoru hums—pleased. "whatever you say."

you throw shoko an exasperated glare, and she shakes her head, though there is a shine of amusement in her eyes—like she knows something that you don't.

"i mean, they were right you know?" satoru ponders, leaning back against the railing. "why aren't we doing something fun today? we used to go out and buy a shit ton of chocolate back when—"

he stops, expression going sour, before disappearing all together. there is a clear absence, one that the three of you notice but try not to linger on.

("valentine's day?" suguru had asked years ago, glancing down at you with a smile. "you like it?"

"definitely not," you reply, cheeks warming as you fiddle with the sugared churros in your hand, unable to look at him. "what's so great about a day where couples spend a shit ton of money on each other to make the rest of us singles feel miserable?"

a muted chuckle, and when you look up suguru's eyes are shining with mirth. "i'm sure you wouldn't think that if you weren't single."

"i guess," you huff, glancing at the sidewalk. your face feels like it's on fire—but suguru has always had that effect on you. "not very likely to happen though."

the expression suguru throws you will linger in your mind until the day you die. "what do you mean?" he asks—incredulous, like you were speaking nonsense. he stops in his tracks, the busy streets bustling around him as you continue to walk.

you take a bite of your churro, glancing back at him with clear confusion. "huh? oh i just meant me dating someone is unlikely," you shrug, though suguru looks speechless, lips parted and eyes wide behind dark bangs.

"why on earth do you say that?" he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. he seems to visibly shake off his initial shock to continue walking, and you patiently wait for him to rejoin your side—he does.

"i don't know," you say, somewhat bashfully because you don't usually talk about these things with him. "do you really think there's room for things like that in our lives?"

"do you?" he counters, and you're too busy formulating your answer to notice that he's oddly interested, eyes continuously darting over your face.

"i mean, it'd be great if there was," you ponder, taking another quick bite. "it'd be nice to be able to settle down with someone even after all the crap we've gone through."

"right…" suguru seems to nod along with you, matching your steps even with his longer stride.

"but—" you stress. "considering that most of us are too traumatized or dead by that time, i don't have much faith."

you laugh at your own statement, but there isn't much amusement in it at all. putting it into words makes you truly realize how shitty your lives are even at such a young age.

your mind drifts to the cerulean eyed sorcerer who's currently off in a different city, being made to fight because he is god on earth in a seventeen year old body. it drifts to a brown haired girl who sits, secluded in a room as bodies are sent to her on a conveyor belt, her hands outstretched to feel blood and gore and horror day in and day out. then it drifts to the boy who is most like you, the one with the dark bangs who rationalizes this pain, this service you have devoted yourselves to with the need to do good for others—because there is no other explanation for why you have to go through this.

the same boy who takes your answer in critically, eyes heavy with an oddly somber sheen. he doesn't say anything, thinking hard, and you focus on eating your churro because you've never once found silence with suguru to be uncomfortable.

you are halfway finished when he breaks it.

"well…" suguru's voice is oddly high, a tick of nerves that doesn't usually infiltrate his calm tone. "if there was room for it, what would a good valentine's day look like for you?"

you laugh, loud and unfiltered, and suguru's skin flushes at the sound.

"i don't know!" your laughter dies down into hushed giggles. "i can't think of anything. besides this is stupid as hell!"

"indulge me," he says quietly, and when you turn to look up at him he's staring at you deeply—eyes hooded and smile gone. you suddenly feel oddly parched as heat crawls up your neck.

"um—" you swallow, the churro in your hand forgotten as you glance at the sidewalk again. "i-i'm not sure. i've really never thought that much about it."

"would you want flowers?" he asks. you suddenly become acutely aware that his voice has gone lower, throaty and deep in a way that sends chills up your spine.

you shake your head quietly, somehow nervous to look at him. "it makes me sad that they die off in a few days. better to keep them planted than cut them for a bouquet."

a quiet huff of laughter—fond and nostalgic. "that's on par for you. very in-character."

you lick your lips, tasting the sugar from the treat in your hand. "i guess…maybe i'd like chocolates?"

"chocolates?" suguru repeats, like he's surprised. you don't know why his reaction has you stumbling, but you shake your head quickly, appalled that you're even telling him this in the first place.

"i mean—it's not a big deal or anything! even just a small box of them would do! i don't really care anyway—"

"i would've guessed you'd like a plushie or something along those lines." he hums, a small smile stretching across his face. there's a dust of color blooming across his cheekbones, and you think he looks unfairly charming.

"that's good too!" you reply, too quickly, before catching yourself and ducking your head. "i mean…i don't know. plushies are really cute. i think they'd be a cute gift."

there's a beat of silence, and when you look up suguru is smiling at you like you've just put the stars in the sky for him. he hums to himself, eyes darting around the streets and looking much more at ease than he did a few minutes prior. you find yourself unable to look away.

"what would you want?" the words escape before you can stop them.

"me?" he asks, tilting his head in mild surprise.

"yeah. what would you want for valentine's day?"

suguru blanches, gaze darting over your facial features with shocking speed. it lingers on your eyes, before flickering downward, then shooting back up. you're trying to trace them but they're too fast, and he shuts them before you can process anything. he keeps his eyes closed as you curiously await his answer.

to this day you don't quite understand what he meant.

"anything i can get," he answers with a rueful smile, shaking his head at you fondly. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. "anything at all.")

a familiar voice tickles your ear amongst the silence even now, and you rub your palms together. you can feel satoru's gaze on you, trailing over your expression—searching, analyzing.

you let him—used to it.

"that's enough of that for now. plus don't the two of you have to go check on the kids today?" shoko asks, eyeing the two of you pointedly. her voice has a strain to it, one that you can only pick up because you've known her so long. but you're grateful for the change in subject as you glance at satoru, who checks his phone.

"ah shit. they should be back from school by now but we were supposed to pick up some groceries beforehand," he mutters under his breath before looking down at you. "you wanna head over there first and i'll go get some stuff?"

"sure," you reply, patting shoko's shoulder in farewell. satoru steps closer, digging into his pockets before dropping the apartment keys into your palm. he pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, eyes trailing over your face like he's searching for something, and yet you can't make out what.

a beat of silence.

"d-don't forget to get some of those cookies tsumiki said she liked last time." you drop the keys into your bag and shrug off the odd feeling of this conversation—something strange that you don't feel like looking into because you're scared of what you'll find out about yourself.

satoru's eyes go soft, a mixture of somber and affectionate, and he smiles easily. "you got it." he reaches out to ruffle your hair, licking his lips as he heads for the door. "see you later."

you watch him go, and think that you'd rather have him by your side. but you keep that to yourself—so used to sewing your mouth shut.

("which do you want?" you ask satoru, who peers at the shelves over your shoulder. his close proximity does nothing to you, but he seems oddly giddy when he glances at your side profile.

"hmm, the white chocolate," he answers, low and hushed, like it's meant only for you to hear. you can feel the energy radiating off of him—can feel it shake your very soul.

"okay," you reply, reaching up for the box, but satoru beats you to it. he stretches up, towering over you and you shoot him an playful glare. he had gotten a growth spurt over the holidays and wouldn't let you forget it.

"aw this is so sweet of you," he teases, excited and all too pleased. you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.

"you're the one who's been bugging us for valentine's day chocolate."

"like it wasn't a good idea," he counters with a grin. "even if we're all single we should still get chocolate."

you snort in amusement, before turning to call out across the aisle. "suguru which one should i get you?"

the dark haired male meets your gaze, and the warmth of it sends a tickle through your stomach. he shakes his head with a gentle smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "don't worry about it. you know i'm not big on sweets anyway."

you deflate—he smiles at you like he's happy you asked.

"you can give me his share," satoru interjects with a playful smirk, pressing his palm into your shoulder. you shake your head in exasperation.

"no way. i'm still going to get him something." your eyes dart across the shelves, before you reach up and pull down a box of unsweetened chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. "this should be good."

satoru eyes the box, and you glance at him. "suguru would like these right?"

"yeah," he shrugs, before crossing his arms. "as long as they aren't crazy sweet. he hates sweet stuff."

"okay good. then i'll get him these!" your smile stretches wide, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"you're being awfully thoughtful today," satoru comments. you look at him quickly, quirking a brow.

"well i can't just get you one. you're not my only friend." you shoot back.

satoru grins. "guess that's true."

his arm takes its position around your shoulder as you head towards the counter.

"you were really particular about getting suguru something though. any special reason?" he pipes up, and you immediately go still, looking at him as you try to bite back an uncharacteristic surge of panic.

"of course not! i got something for everyone. i even got shoko the rum and raisin chocolates." you say quickly, fighting the urge to crumble under satoru's implications. "besides this was all your idea anyway!"

you dig into your wallet, pulling out exact change and smiling at the cashier, who puts all of your chocolates into a bag. you decide you'll gift them later, when you're in the comfort of the dorm.

"okay let's leave—" you pause when you turn around, breath catching.

because satoru is staring at you, an odd expression on his face. there's something behind his eyes—realization mixed with another emotion you can't quite place.

you're not sure if the expression excites you or scares you.)

you don't expect tsumiki to be so excited when you push open the door. she bounds out of her small bedroom, practically tripping over herself as she chants your name over excited giggles.

"hey kiddo, how was school?" you smile as she throws her arms around your waist. you pat her hair, making a mental note to take her for a haircut sometime soon.

"good! my friends gave me some chocolates today!" she's giddy as she says this, and you smile playfully.

"oh yeah? any boys?"

she immediately flusters at your quirked brow and teasing grin. "of course not!"

you laugh, patting her head again as you take a seat on the couch. "okay okay! where's your brother?"

you don't see the dark haired nine-year-old anywhere. normally he'd be doing his homework at the kitchen table—so much more diligent than you ever were at that age.

"he's in his room," tsumiki answers, and your eyes catch the sneaky bit of amusement in her face.

"doing what?" you ask curiously. she smothers a smile, shrugging.

"i'm not sure." she raises her voice to call out. "megumi! she's here!"

you can hear him grumbling down the hall, hear his little footsteps padding across the floor—affection swells within you.

you think back to the day satoru dragged you to meet him, and you internally remind yourself to thank him.

"hey gumi." you offer the kid a smile, though it falters when you notice the way his hands are hiding behind his back even as he mumbles a quiet greeting in return. "what's wrong?"

"i…" his voice catches, and you notice the heavy pink flush crawling up his neck and into his cheeks. "i just wanted to…"

he trails off again, and tsumiki nudges him discreetly. "just do it!" she whispers, not all that quietly. your eyes dart between them in confusion, and megumi tries to sink into his sweater's collar.

"megumi what's wrong? are you okay?" there's a note of concern you can't keep from your voice, and tsumiki gently pushes him closer to you. "did something happen?"

"no…" he mumbles, attempting to hide his face even more. "i just wanted to…give…"

you blink owlishly. "give…?"

megumi lets out an exasperated huff, brows pinching helplessly before thrusting his arms into your line of sight. "here!"

your lips part. in his little hands are a box of chocolates and a small stuffed bear.

"this is…" you trail off, taking them from his hands.

"he wanted to give you something for valentine's day! to show you how much he appreciates you!" tsumiki interjects, practically bouncing on her feet.

"no i didn't! it's just chocolates stop making it sound like such a big deal!" megumi immediately snaps, glaring at his sister. you can practically see his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you think you will never stop caring for this kid. there's a tickle of a distant memory—small fists clenched around a backpack and deep green eyes that stare up at you in childish apprehension.

those same green eyes now sneak glances at you, assessing your reaction, and you decide to put him out of his misery.

"this is so sweet megumi. thank you!" you smile at him gratefully, touched beyond recognition. your heart swells with affection once more.

megumi shoves his hands into his pockets, a stubborn pout on his face that makes the fat of his cheeks look that much more endearing. "whatever, it's not a big deal."

tsumiki shoots him a glare, before turning to you with a wide smile. "he says that but he was really excited to get you something!"

megumi gapes at her, eyes going wide in betrayal before they narrow. "shut up! besides it was gojo-san who gave me the idea!"

you blink, before smiling somewhat gingerly. though there is a strange sort of satisfaction in you when you hear those words—the mention of satoru's name. as detached as he tries to remain, you know all too well how much more there is to his character.

"i thought gojo-san would suggest flowers," tsumiki ponders, reaching out to squish the little bear before looking at you curiously. "aren't flowers a typical gift to get someone for valentine's day?"

you shrug, smiling carelessly. "i guess so. but i'm glad he didn't because i don't really like flowe—"

it hits you. echoes of a conversation that occurred many many winters ago. it washes over you, a refreshing tide that cools your skin and tickles your face.

of course, it made sense now that you thought about it. there were no secrets between satoru and suguru after all.

a chime cuts through the silence. you glance down at your phone to see a casual text from the snowy haired wonderboy who has been by your side since the beginning, and you can't help but smile.

i'll be home in a minute :P

a promise that has remained constant all these years.

so you type back.

hurry back. waiting for you.

you smile to yourself, heart thudding heavily against your ribcage. "hm."

tsumiki quirks a brow. "what?"

"nothing," you shake your head, wetting your lips as you reach down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. she smiles at you, stars in her eyes, and you think you'll remember that smile forever. "i was just thinking."

"about what?" megumi can't stop the curiosity from seeping into his voice as he peers at you. you grin, gently patting his head with the bear plushie and laughing when he swats you away.

"valentine's day," you answer, smiling at them as you stand up to head to the door. you already know who's about to knock. "i was just thinking that it's not too bad of a holiday."

[sage-nebula]

Thinking about how important it is that Wendy is a part of the Pines family. (Because she is, as much as Soos is. It's why she's in the family photos, such as the one representing Ford's happiness at the end of The Book of Bill.)

We don't know too much about Wendy's home / family life. Unfortunately, we don't a single Wendy-focused episode, and we don't get to learn too much about her outside of how she interacts with the main characters. But here is what we do know:

Wendy is the oldest of four siblings, with three little brothers. Wendy herself is 15. We are never given ages for her brothers, but given the photo that she shows Dipper of her younger self in "Double Dipper", I'm guesstimating that the youngest Corduroy brother (Gus) is about 6 in the present day. This is because young!Wendy was wearing braces and also noted to be "freakishly tall" for her age, and Gus was wearing a diaper in the photo (but standing on his own). Braces can take two to three years to be removed, and Wendy doesn't have them in the present day, meaning she was probably around 11 or 12 in the photo. Meanwhile, Gus was in a diaper but able to stand, meaning he was probably a toddler, likely around 2. So in the present day, Wendy is 15, Gus is around 6 (depending on if Wendy was 11 or 12 in the photo), and Marcus and Kevin (the middle brothers) are between 14 and 7.

Wendy's mother died when she was young. Given the age of Gus in the photo, we can estimate that Wendy's mother died when Wendy was, at youngest, 11 or 12 -- so, three or four years pre-canon. (Because any earlier than that and Gus couldn't have been born.)

Wendy's father is Manly Dan, who shouts just about every line of dialogue he has and routinely breaks things, including in his own house, albeit sometimes by accident. He also spends most of his time in a biker bar, though we do know that he does love his children. (e.g. is seen with the boys on both family fishing day and Summerween, is seen taking Wendy out for breakfast in "Dipper vs. Manliness").

Dan is the reason why Wendy has a summer job. As she says in "Gideon Rises", "If I can't work at the Shack, my dad's gonna force me to work at my cousin's logging camp up north." This implies that Wendy has to work somewhere, per a rule of Dan's.

In "Into the Bunker", Wendy has this to say when she comments on how she's excited to be going on an adventure with Dipper and Mabel: "It beats cleaning up after my dad at home." She says this with a frown, in a grousing tone. We're then treated to a clip of Dan breaking apart the cabin as mentioned above.

In "Society of the Blind Eye", before she's about to have her memories erased, Wendy confesses thus: "I'm stressed like 24/7. Have you MET my family?"

Wendy dreams about her mother every night. The glimpse of her dream that we're shown depicts her receiving a comforting hug from her mother.

The conclusions that I draw from the above are thus: prior to her mother's death, Wendy had what amounts to a normal family life in Gravity Falls. The Corduroys were a two parent household, her mother was there to help balance Dan out and raise the kids (Wendy included), and Wendy could, well . . . be a kid. It's possible, even, that some of Dan's more worrying traits (such as spending the majority of his time at a bar) didn't exist when Wendy's mom is alive. It's pure speculation on my part, but it's possible that Dan feels compelled to go to a bar to be aggressive (and drink, even if we don't see it because it's a kid's show) because that's how he processes his grief over his wife's death, away from his children's eyes and ears. He's trying to be a responsible father and not hurt his kids, while at the same time still not handling things in the most healthy way.

But back to Wendy. Once Wendy's mother died, the dynamic in the Corduroy household shifted. Dan was hit by the tidal wave of grief that comes with losing a spouse, as well as the sudden onslaught of being a single father to four children, one of whom was very possibly still in diapers. And if my speculation is correct and that he took to going to the bar to deal with his grief, then who is left to change Gus' diapers and get him potty trained? To operate the stove or oven or microwave to make sure that the boys (who would all be under age 10 at this point) got fed, and to make sure she got fed herself? To, in her own words, "clean up [her] dad's messes" when he was at home to make them by breaking apart the house with his own head?

Wendy.

Wendy was a child herself when her mother died, but she was the oldest child, potentially freshly into middle school while the boys were still in elementary, and the oldest daughter to boot. The girl, expected to know how to do "girl things" like cook and clean. I'm not saying that Dan told her to do these things, but we know from Wendy's personality that she is protective of those who need it (e.g. Dipper and Mabel) and, more importantly, that's her home and her family, and she does love them (she makes this clear in the Weirdmageddon episodes numerous times). She wouldn't let her little brothers starve, wouldn't let her youngest sit in a filthy diaper, would try to pick up the house if her dad and brothers wouldn't. Wendy would step up to do it out of necessity, even if she hated it and felt stressed out about it, especially while also feeling the crushing grief that comes with having lost her mother.

So Wendy, having lost her mother at a young age, probably had to step up into a pseudo-parental role in her own house, trying her best to fill the void that was left by her mother's passing even though she was only a child herself. And this is why she's "stressed, like, 24/7." Because not only are her father and brothers loud and chaotic (especially with Dan raising the boys into miniature versions of him), but because it's her responsibility (spoken or no) to keep the house in as much order as she can. It's little wonder that, outside of the movie that she and Dipper are watching in the beginning of "Into the Bunker", Wendy seems to spend as little time as possible in her own home.

So, how does this fit into it being important for Wendy to be part of the Pines family? Or, worded in a better way, why it's so important that she has the Pines as a second family, and the Mystery Shack as a second home?

As I said above, once Wendy's mother died, her ability to be a child in her own home effectively ended. Again, to make it clear, Wendy doesn't hate her family. In fact, it's the opposite; the Weirdmageddon episodes make it clear that she still loves her father and her brothers very much. But "Society of the Blind Eye" also makes it clear that they stress her out. She has a lot of complicated feelings, something that's understandable given her complicated situation.

But because she has to help keep the house together when she's at home, that means she can only really be a kid (or teenager, as the case may be) when she's outside of it. She has a lot of fun doing this with her friends, but sometimes a teen does need a home to relax in. And for Wendy, that home is the Mystery Shack -- and yes, that includes when she's on the clock.

Now, I know what you may be thinking: it's stated that Stan is a terrible boss, that he barks orders, that he yells -- how is that any different from her father? Well, I'll tell you how: the only time we actually see this is in "Boss Mabel", in which Stan being a boss who yells and barks orders at his employees is a plot point meant to create the conflict for the episode. Otherwise, we never really see Stan being an awful boss, and in particular we never see him being hard on Wendy. In fact, I would argue we see the opposite.

Here are things we know about Wendy's behavior at work, and Stan's response to her behavior at work:

Wendy constantly reads magazines while working the cash register, often right in front of Stan. Stan never tells her to put the magazine away.

Wendy often puts her feet up on the counter. Stan never tells her to take her feet off the counter.

Wendy goes up to the roof "all the time, every day" to the point where she has a chair and cooler up there. ("The Inconveniencing"). We don't know if Stan knows about this or not, but it's hard to believe he wouldn't if Wendy goes up there as much as she says she does.

When Stan told her to hang signs up out in the woods, she said, "I would, but I can't . . . reach . . ." while making no effort to get up to get the sign, and not removing her eyes from the magazine or her feet from the counter. Stan simply said, "I'd fire [. . .] you if I could." i.e. she got away with it 100%. ("Tourist Trapped")

When Stan double checks with Wendy and Soos that they'll wash the bathrooms while he's gone, Wendy says, "absolutely not" with a salute. Stan laughs and then says to stay out of trouble, not caring at all. ("The Inconveniencing")

Wendy was supposed to work the ticket stand all night at the party. She quit about ten minutes in and blatantly joined the party. Stan had to have seen her. He did nothing. ("Double Dipper")

Wendy claims in "Boss Mabel" that Stan doesn't let her have friends at work. In contrast, we see Robbie visit her at work all the time throughout their relationship (e.g. "Fight Fighters", "Boyz Crazy"), and Stan even comments on "is that the guy that's always making googly eyes at Wendy?" but otherwise has no problem with it. So again, it was a conflict invented for "Boss Mabel" that otherwise doesn't exist.

And that is just off the top of my head. The point is, Wendy is perhaps treated the easiest of the staff at the Mystery Shack. She's blatantly lazy and snarky and the most Stan ever does is grouse that he would "fire [her] if he could."

And this is a good thing.

The Mystery Shack, even if when she's on the clock, is clearly a place where Wendy can relax. It's somewhere she feels comfortable, rather than stressed. Yes, she's working -- but she's putting in the barest minimum effort because the stakes are the lowest they could possibly be. Because even though Stan grouses and complains about how little she cares, he won't fire her. He says he can't, but let's be honest, he could. One could argue that he'd be out a cashier, but he already is when the school year starts and Wendy has to go back to school. The Shack doesn't close down then, so it wouldn't close now if he fired Wendy.

But he won't fire her, because he knows that if he did, she'd be sent up north to her cousin's logging camp, a job she would hate and that would add on to the stress she already has from her home life. Stan has been in Gravity Falls for 30 years; he's been there since before Wendy was born. He knew her mother. He remembers when her mother died a few years ago. He probably saw how Dan's personality changed, how Wendy's personality changed from a more carefree little girl to a little girl who had to act more carefree than she actually was because she won't ever dare let anyone know she's anything but tough as nails, kinda like the guy he sees when he looks in the mirror. So he'll grouse at her about her laziness, and she'll complain about how much she hates having to work, but he'll also never hire another cashier even during the school year when the Shack maybe could use the extra help, and she knows that he both has an orthopedic back pillow and where it's kept, and that's as much as either of them will say about it. (Source for the orthopedic back pillow: "Soos and the Real Girl").

Wendy spends time at the Shack that would otherwise be spent at her home. When she decides to leave Tambry's party early, she goes to hang out at the Shack and watch movies with Stan, before the twins or Soos arrive ("Summerween"). She's likewise hanging out with the Pines and Soos watching television despite work clearly being over in the beginning of "Dreamscaperers". Wendy can relax at the Shack, can be in a home environment where she has no responsibilities, where she can simply be a teenager without also having to be a pseudo-parent. She can be a big sister figure to Dipper and Mabel without the added responsibilities of having to make sure they're fed and brought up right. She can be snarky with Stan, and he'll be snarky back, and there are no risks or consequences at all.

It's important that Wendy is a member of the Pines family, because here there are no complications for her. She loves her original family, but things got difficult when her mother died, and they won't ever stop being difficult. But things aren't difficult with the Pines. In a way, being with the Pines is as comfortable as the hugs she gets from her mother in her dreams every night. Being with the Pines feels right. It feels safe.

It's good that Wendy has them. It's important that Wendy has them. And fortunately, she always will.

[coddda]

Everyone knows that Light and L matched each other's freak but I think their dynamic in the musical (the Japanese ver specifically) is underrated. Like it's not super different from canon but they just had this extra edge of Violence that we never quite saw from the more methodical and careful mindgames in canon death note and I think it's great. Like, yes, they did declare in canon that they will bring each other to justice, yes L says he wants to send Kira to his execution, but in the lyrics of the musical they both outright say multiple times that they just want to straight up Kill each other. It's direct the whole way through. There's more mutual contempt. This game is about nothing more than simply being the first one to Kill the Other (they actually use the word "殺し合い" (koroshiau) or "to kill each other" to describe their game (translated as "murderous ... game")).

(Sidenote but all those references about wanting to send each other to Hell?? Beautiful)

Yeah this is a battle of justice and ideals, yes that clash is a key part of their final confrontation at the end of the musical, but throughout their duets (or even songs like The Game Begins where they're singing by themselves) there's this near singleminded desire to just fucking End each other. It's fucking Raw and it's great.

Also THIS FUCKING SCENE?? THIS SCENE FROM SECRETS AND LIES. Iconic. Actually Insane. My jaw dropped. Light looks like a crazy bitch it's beautiful.

Um. Also. Obligatory Playing His Game (yknow the gay sex song) lines dump. It basically says everything I just said above in like 9 lines. You see what I mean right.

In canon they're playing a game of mental chess, trying to use everyone around them to finally catch the other as their end goal, but in the musical you really do feel like all they see is each other. They would probably beat each other to death with their fists if it came down to that. Idk they're just so excited and fired up about their little game in the musical and it's so unhinged and fun and special and I love it. It's like the writers for the musical decided to kick their murderous intent up a couple notches and the result is absolutely Beautiful.

I also think that the intensity of their rivalry in the beginning just makes the wind-down of The Way It Ends soo much better. It's such a good contrast to their previous duets where they try to sing over each other (Secrets and Lies & Stalemate) or with each other but basically at the top of their lungs (Playing His Game). It feels like there's both a quiet mutual understanding but also an underlying disappointment that the game is finally over. In canon, L's death Is instead the peak of their game, the moment he gets confirmation that Light is Kira is the exact same moment that he dies. In the jdrama it's almost sudden, how L dies, after the quiet moment has already passed. But in the musical L's death, ironically, Is the one quieter moment in their game. Their peak was the game itself. It was Secrets and Lies and Playing His Game. But the end of the game in the musical is not a victory, it's just (as L says) the end of everything they'd been wanting up until this point.

Uh. Fuck it. Clip from the Kenji Urai version because I just love his delivery here. His tone just goes so well with the silence and the sound of the clock ticking. You see what I mean right.

Their rivalry in the musical may have been more shortlived but like Damn they were really enjoying every second of it. They were truly insane about each other until the very end. (Like despite everything I just said about the ending it was still unhinged as fuck. Light Making L Shoot Him and then Making L Shoot Himself with L's Own Hand?? Holy shit man. What the fuck /pos)

Musical Light and L your game might've been shorter but you'll always be famous <33 Please never inflict what you had on anyone else ever please stay in hell forever thank you

[bi-writes]

mercenary!ghost is dead inside. he wonders what it leaves behind on his pretty little bunny.

notes about reader: as always, reader is curvy and ghost knows exactly what he wants to do with all that ass

more mercenary!ghost (part 2/?)

word count: 5k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, pet names (luv, pet, bunny + rabbit, puppy), dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, ghost is thicc, mentions of violence and gore + murder and extortion, mw3 spoilers, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, tw smoking, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader described as much smaller, manhandled easily), suggestive touching and oral (fem!receiving), cumplay, mentions of dubcon but relationship/dynamics are consensual, simon "i eat pussy like a god" riley

his phone is ringing. it surprises him, the sound of it. it's not familiar, to hear it ring, to see a name on the screen of it and recognize it.

there was no one left to call. not until now.

he adjusts his hold on his rifle, slipping an earbud into his ear.

"'ello?"

"almost back yet?" it's you. rattling your cage.

"'m busy."

"i know--" he clicks his tongue when you say this, annoyed. "but you're not back yet."

"i'll be back when i'm back."

"yeah, but when is that?"

brat.

"'s this how it's gonna be? botherin' me when 'm out?"

"uh huh. so when are you gonna be back?"

"when 'm back."

you huff at that, and ghost snarls a bit under the mask, adjusting the scope and peering through it. there is movement, and he focuses. then your soft voice sounds again, "are you with someone else?"

there's a grunt, and then a firm, "no." and it is the truth, and you know it is, because he doesn't care enough to lie to you. you sigh on the other end, staring up at the ceiling with a wobbly bottom lip.

"we done 'ere?" he asks after a long pause. you sniffle, closing your eyes.

"take me with you next time."

he hangs up before he answers. needy little puppy he has, he knows this. he isn't unfamiliar with this kind of dynamic. it wasn't unlike the job he used to have--a lieutenant, a man in charge, in command of other needy puppies that needed to be put in their place. he wonders often if johnny would have liked you, but you are enough trouble as it is on your own.

a pet dies and another is bought; whatever ghost is, he outlives them.

he attracts them, he thinks. the ones who ache to belong. from the first moment he met you, he knows that is why he felt his blood run a little warmer at the sight of you--it is something in your eyes, something he recognizes, something that he knows tastes so fucking good. there is predator, and there is prey, and then there is the in-between. the purgatory of those who have no idea who they are. they must be shown. they have to be taught, and if they fall into the wrong hands, they are mangled and chewed through.

he wonders for a moment if maybe his mother was one of them. then he remembers that it doesn't matter what she was, because his father had black running through his veins. the same black that simon thinks he sees in the mirror--and sometimes it bleeds onto his face, he swears it's there, hiding underneath the eye-black he paints on himself.

when he was younger, he used to hide from his reflection because of it. the rot of the other half that he was made of, it terrified him. he feared being consumed by it. he was afraid of letting it show, he was afraid of scaring other people.

but when he crawled himself out of his early grave and buried the good half of himself, he didn't flinch in the mirror any longer. he let himself linger there, and when he swiped the black against his pale skin for the first time, he remembers thinking that maybe it had always been there. that he doesn't recognize himself without it because this is what i am, something made of ash, something that shouldn't be here, the remnants of something that touched a flame too hot and swallowed something foul. rancid.

and maybe that is what he's been doing since then--maybe that is what the hollow place is that he feels inside, maybe it's the half that he buried that he wishes so fucking badly to hold onto because it's the only thing that distracted him from feeling like the thing that he truly is. and maybe that is why he died again when johnny did; it was too late to realize that the hollowness is back, and it is deeper, and it hurts now, fuck, take it back, take it away--

and maybe that is why he hates you in some way. because the space is gone. it is filled again; and you fit so perfectly there, and it will happen again, and he has no idea how many more times he can lose the redeemable half of him until there is nothing left to redeem.

but black still runs in his veins, and he is selfish, and he will hold onto it until it's gone. he doesn't care. he is a thing, he is not real, and it doesn't matter to him if he will die again when you do, because while he has you, he will drink what you give him. salvation, redemption, painting his blood red, whatever the fuck it is that you are meant to give him, he will take it, and he will devour it, and he doesn't care what he leaves behind.

he wants it. it's selfish, it's cruel, but he wants it. everything he touches fades away; if he was something real, he would cut you off. but he isn't, and he doesn't care, and he's curious to know what the stain of himself will look like on you.

beautiful you. such a pretty girl. soft like a bunny, glittering eyes--if he was a poet, he might say they are filled with starlight. but ghost is a predator; the shine of you only makes his mouth water.

you were his the moment he saw you for the very first time. he was not inclined to ask your permission, but it wouldn't have mattered--he knew as soon as your eyes met, really met, that he had you. hook, line, and sinker--there it is, there she is, what she really is inside. there is a light there inside of you, he could see it.

he is going to snuff it out. he doesn't know why, but he will, because he wants to. he has an urge to kill something, and he thinks whatever it is that swims in you will do just fine. he knows, somehow, that you will look beautiful covered in it--in the tears when he breaks, when he tears, when he destroys, you will look beautiful, and he won't stop until he takes all of it. he knows, too, he doesn't know how he knows but he knows, that you will let him.

he crossed another name off his list today. he watched them on a lonely rooftop all morning, and it rained. he watched them move back and forth, between doorways, answering phone calls. he doesn't ask questions, so he wonders occasionally what it is they did to warrant a visit from him.

they could've stolen. maybe they betrayed; that is a popular motivation. lovers' quarrels--he knows what it is to die for love, but dying for love at the wrong end of his rifle isn't in marriage vows. maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time; maybe they saw what they shouldn't have, and it was enough for a visit from their guardian angel.

sometimes he thinks that what he does is at their mercy; because if he didn't do it, if he didn't make it so quick, so easy, they would suffer. at least this way, by his hand, they would never know. he brings comfort. ease.

it is the same with you, it has to be. he closes his fist and bangs on the outside of your door. the wood rattles under the force, and when you open the door, the look that you give him only solidifies his assumption. if it wasn't him keeping you, then it would be someone else. someone else would look into those eyes, and they would take from you, but they wouldn't be like him. he takes, and he will take, but you won't know that you are empty until it's too late.

that is merciful, isn't it? this kind of love is forgiving, right? the kind that shields, the white lies that protect, that blindfold that hides--this is humane. he is a thing, a predator, yes, but he isn't like the others.

right?

you step aside, and he has to maneuver his shoulders to make it past the narrow doorway. as you close the door, your eyes linger. he wears a dark rain jacket over a long sleeve, dark cargo pants tucked into heavy boots. he wears a holster on one meaty thigh, but it only holds a small pack there. his balaclava is plain, hiding all but his dark eyes, and the hood of his jacket casts a long shadow over him. the gloves he wears are of a utility variety--he worked today. if you ask him, he will say yes, but he will not tell you anything else.

sometimes, you aren't sure if he just doesn't care or if he is trying to protect you from some ugly truth. but then you remember that there are no ugly truths with ghost; the truth is as it is, nothing more and nothing less, and if he hides it from you, it is because you simply don't need to know.

you lock the door behind you, leaning against it. he moves through your apartment with ease. he has been here before, but it feels as if he has always been here. he knows how to rattle the balcony door to get the lock to free, and you don't remember showing him how to unlatch it. you busy yourself with putting the kettle to boil as you see him light a match, a cigarette between two gloved fingers.

it's a nasty vice. it blackens the lungs, shrinks the organ, addicts the user. but it tastes good. and it feels good. and it isn't what will kill him, because this isn't real.

you come outside, a mug of tea in your hand, and you set it down beside him. he flicks ash off the cigarette, spreading his legs wide as he sits there, watching the street below. it's quiet because it's raining, and while the balcony is covered, it wets the toes of his boots.

he looks so good. he spreads himself out in the chair, taking up so much space, and his hand that doesn't hold the cigarette is spread out along his thigh, running absentmindedly down the material of his pants. it's hard to describe the breadth of him--ghost is just big. his hands, the height of him, the space that you can tuck yourself into his chest. he could curl you around his arm, wrap you up with both of them, trap you there. you don't hate the thought of that, the idea of him keeping you there like that. you think about the width of his hand, how it might look with the black of his glove spread out across your throat, holding you there, keeping you there.

you think about what it would be like to be under his mercy. his control. to feel the press of those fingers against the hollow of your throat, knowing he could crush your windpipe with just one perfectly placed squeeze. he would know where to touch. he would know where to tug just right to cut the air off.

it's too bad you didn't know you already belonged to him.

"can i have some?"

you nod to the cigarette burning in his hand. his eyes flicker up to look at you for a moment before he adjusts in the chair. he shrugs finally.

"'f you want."

you put a hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself to sit on his lap. you wear nothing except for a loose shirt, one that covers you to your thighs, but when you sit, it rides up. he takes the weight of you easily, not looking strained in the slightest, one arm supporting the thickness of your thighs with a firm grasp.

you lean forward a little, into him, and he brings the cigarette to your lips. you wrap your lips around it, taking a breath. you want to revel in that fact that you're putting your lips around something his own have touched, and then you start to cough.

the air burns. you turn your head to the side and wheeze; you hear a condescending chuckle, and you go warm with embarrassment. but his hand rubs small circles into your back, coaxing the smoke out of your lungs. you take in a few strong breaths to clear the smoke, and then you look away from him.

"not a smoker, eh?"

"that was...my first time."

when your head turns back to face him shyly, he tilts his head to the side. you cannot see any of his expression, but you imagine he's curious. the way his eyes look you up and down tell you that much.

"wot, you saw me do it, 'n ya think y'can take it?"

you don't respond, just keep your eyes on his. your fingers move, spreading across the solidity of his chest, and you rest them there. you lean in a little more, your face only a few mere inches from his own, and it gives you an opportunity to examine him so close.

his mask is weathered, the skull mouth painted along the mouth a little faded and messy with wear. he smells like cigarettes and earth, wet soil and ash and something warm. the eye-black that is smeared across his eyes fades out at the edges, and the paleness of his skin peeks out a little. you know the black covers the tiredness under his eyes, the lines that must be set in his face from how much he frowns. he has blonde lashes and dark eyes, and what intrigues you the most is that you can see the jagged edge of a healed scar peeking out from under the fabric that hides him.

he frowns, and you see the furrowing of the skin underneath. you meet his eyes again, and it feels surreal to see him in this much detail. you don't think this is a common occurrence; you have a feeling that anyone that has ever gotten this close to him did not live to talk about it the next day.

he has never told you, but you know death follows him. you have never seen what war has done to him, you can't see the rough skin and the patches where skin has been shredded or torn off, but you know, sitting so close to him, that he leaves bodies behind him and terrifies the ones that approach.

you wonder if you should be afraid, but then you remember that if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now. he does not want to kill you.

he wants to eat you.

you have asked him once what he does for work. he said he used to work for the military, but he didn't say anymore. when you asked what he did now, he said he was an independent contractor.

a contractor for what, you did not get the answer to. just that he was his own boss now, and no one told him what to do anymore.

"what did you do today?" you ask him finally, reaching up timidly and slipping a thumb down the line of his strong jaw.

"work."

"and how was it?"

he does not answer, and your eyes flicker back up to his, studying his reaction. he doesn't give one, just eyes the line of your throat as you swallow hard.

"a good pay day then?" you ask, and he hums at that. you smile a little, reaching up with both hands and cupping his masked cheeks gently. "must be good at what you do."

his face flickers a bit at that. he sniffs, looking to the side before back at you, shrugging those broad shoulders of his. one of his big hands comes up and slips up the shirt you wear, gripping your ass firm.

"good at other things, too," is all he says, and you smooth one of your thumbs down the row of painted teeth along the mouth of the mask. his breath comes out warm under your thumb.

"like killing people?"

his hand stiffens against you, and he glares up at you. a huff of a breath comes out, and you tense a little. he flicks the cigarette onto the ground, reaching up with that hand and gripping you around the jaw. your face fits nicely in his hand, and you might enjoy it if it wasn't so aggressive, the way he touched you. he shakes you a little, bringing you close enough that you can feel the wetness of his snarl against your lips.

"that wot y'think i am? some kind o'murderer?" he spits. "think 'm some kind o'fuckin' killer?"

a wave of tears prick the sides of your eyes, and you grip his wrist tight, trying to keep the pressure off of you.

"i know what you do," you whisper. "i know what you do, it's pretty obvious."

"yeah? 'n ya think it's a good idea to fuckin' talk t'me this way? ask me questions you don't want the answers to?"

you narrow your eyes, and you stare back at him, matching the intensity of his own. this makes him laugh; there is no humor in his laugh, but he laughs, and he rattles your whole head as he brings you close enough that your lips brush against the fabric of his mask.

"oh...you want me to tell ya...want me to spill all my bloody secrets..." he growls. you let out a whine when he brings you even closer, smashing your lips against the front of his mask. you choke out a whimper, and you swear you feel his tongue trying to find yours through the barrier. "think y'can handle the lot like me, bunny, and you can't. blood on m'ledger would fuckin' drown you."

and it is the truth, he knows it is, and he wouldn't lie to you because he just doesn't fucking care enough to think up a lie. he didn't serve so many years, he didn't give so much time to what he thought was righteous to come home and paint war as a pretty picture to civilians like you. war is blood, war is loss, war is what takes and takes and takes from a man, until they are things. until they come home and realize they have no idea what they were fighting for when they seem the same dirty streets they left behind.

when their brothers still get killed. when their families still come apart. when their lovers betray them, when they break their hearts--when they realize they are glorified weapons for the politicians that don't care about them, that send them away to die, that refuse to support them when they come home without the goodness that they left with.

he gave his entire life up for this. they took his family, they took the only half of him that mattered, and what was it for? nothing waits for him at home. there is no one in his bed, there is no one to call, there was no money in the bank.

there is only the memories that manifest into nightmares, and the blue sky that reminds him of blue eyes. the blue eyes that he could not save, the blue eyes that haunt him, that ask him, desperately--let the bonnie lass go, LT. you cannae save'er.

but he is a lieutenant, and he was a sergeant, and he didn't take fucking orders from anyone anymore anyways.

you are his, and you look so pretty in that cage. pretty enough to eat. pretty enough to take away. pretty enough to poison, because he thinks maybe this is the only way to make himself feel better.

he wants to see your blood run just as black as his own. misery loves company, they say, and it would please him, the selfish thing that he is, to see you just as ugly inside as he is.

"but you want it," he says, and your eyes flick back to meet his. you don't smile, but your gaze doesn't falter. you just stare back at him, and he laughs again, because he sees something he recognizes there. something inhuman, something a little feral. it is inside you.

and he wants it out.

he stands, leaning over you. you're forced to walk backwards, and he doesn't stop until you're back inside. he closes the balcony door behind him, putting a hand on your chest before forcing you backwards with a firm push. the back of your knees hit the couch, and you squeak as you fall back against it.

you almost think he's going to pounce on you. rip your panties to fabric shreds, spread you wide, and fuck you into the cushions. you think he's going to take from you, because that is what predators do, but you're almost taken back by the sight of him lowering to his knees.

he's kneeling. this behemoth of a thing kneels in front of you, and you yelp with a start when he grips you by the back of your knees and yanks you forward, manhandling you until he has your legs tossed over his shoulders. he grunts as he pushes the shirt up to expose your cotton panties, a soft red pair that you know he will ruin when he's done with you.

your back arches as he buries the front of his mask against your cunt, taking a deep breath through the mask. it's filthy, the way he takes in the scent of you, and if you were sane, you would push him away, the nasty thing he is. but you don't--the gesture floods your insides with need, and you squirm in his grip.

"stay still, little rabbit," he says, but it's a demand. he moves one hand further up your thighs, and you whimper softly when his thumb squishes the slit of you through your panties. his eyes brighten when he notices the fabric darkening as soon as he does this, a growing wet spot dampening your underwear. "look at 'er...drippin'...you hungry, luv?"

"uh...ngghhh..."

"oh, fer fuck's sake, haven't even got m'mouth on ya, and y'can't speak already?"

he laughs, because he is mean, because he is a thing that just wants and takes, and what he wants is between your thighs, and you are easy. you want to be more of a challenge; you want to make him work for it, but his eyes flicker up to meet your own, and there is nothing you can do. there is something said whenever your eyes are on each other--you have no idea what it is, but it tames him, and it keeps you.

"he woulda loved you," he says suddenly. you frown, opening your mouth to say something, to ask who he is, but his index finger pulls your panties aside, and he buries his masked face into the wet seam of your pretty pussy.

you cry out at the feeling, your thighs closing around his head instinctively. your back bows even further, a taut, imaginary string being pulled inside of you, and ghost laughs again, because you're so warm and cute and needy. he pushes his face further into you, nuzzling his nose into the place where he knows your clit is, and he draws the most delicious moans out of you. he smiles under the mask when one of your shaking hands grips the back of his head, pushing him deeper, his mask soaking with the slick of you.

he continues the torture for a time unknown. your brain isn't working; you have no concept of time. all you can think about is the way your legs shake and the grip your hands have on the back of his head as you grind your hips up into him. your eyes flutter open and closed, and you push your shirt up a little so he can see your nipples harden with how much everything aches for him.

it feels so good. he grunts, and then a low groan leaves him when you maneuver his head, shoving his nose up against your clit again and slanting your hips up and into him. you're getting off on this--fucking the front of his mask to feel something, to feel this thing you have been chasing for your entire life.

you saw it in him the first time you met him. the knowing when your eyes met for the first time--whatever it is that you have been chasing for your entire life, it is in him, and you need it.

the thing that poets chase. the rush that a high brings. the missing half of you, the warmth of a love you've never had, the shape of something in your cunt that you know he can fill.

you think you might faint when you feel his tongue finally. you can't see his face; he hides it with a wet mask, but his tongue is inside of you now, and you can't help the crying moans that leave you as he laps at your folds like a thirsty dog. maybe he is thirsty--you can hear the lewd, deep swallowing sounds he makes as he tightens his grip on your thighs and bobs his head in time with your stuttering, pleasure-chasing hips.

he drinks. he drinks you insane. his tongue suckles at your clit, then lets it go with a filthy pop to swirl inside your tightening cunt and eat the pretty bunny he has been thinking about far too much. when he works, before he sleeps, in the shower, in the mirror as he covers the scars of him that he never wants to share anymore. the taste of you is enough to distract him--here, between your thighs, your sweetness in his mouth and your moans filling his ears, he doesn't think about anything else. it's impossible. he has been chasing the void for a long time, and all he had to do was eat a pretty girl to get to it?

he knows it now, has decided it already. your cunt is redemption, and he will lose himself in it to make it reality.

"ghost! please!"

your cries shatter his resolve. he folds you in half as he leans over you now, his hands sliding up your soft stomach before he grips the weight of your breasts in his rough hands and squeezes firmly. you whine, cry, moan, beg--you beg for more, for him to please, please, please--! it feels so good, i want it! i want you, i want it all, i want--i want--what does she want?

me? the thing? what isn't real? because ghost knows that if he gives in, it is over. he signs something away, and he has done this before, and suddenly he is afraid.

when he did this before, he was left something else. he is afraid of what will happen the next time. what will happen to him, what might become of him, because what he is now terrifies his reflection, and he has no idea what it'll do.

"please! please! please!"

but you're crying, and you taste so good. and as he laves into the prettiest pussy he's ever had, the sweetest, he remembers why he is here. he isn't here because he loves you. he isn't here because he cares, he isn't here because it is good.

he is here because whatever he is needs a new host, and you are what it wants. soft, pretty, naïve--you have let it inside, and now he will eat and chew and bite until he sucks something out of you.

maybe the good. maybe blood. but it doesn't matter.

he slides his hands back down, using both thumbs to spread your folds apart, and he pulls back to look at you. you're a sloppy mess, your little hole puckering and pulsing, your clit a throbbing bud that begs him to stop teasing. he looks up at where you're a whimpering, crying thing, tears sliding down your puffy cheeks, and he snarls before he leans down and spits right on your clit, watching it drip into your cunt and swirl between what seeps from you.

"say it."

"nnh...huh?"

"say who you belong to."

when you take a moment to answer, he leans down and licks a fat stripe over your clit, making you sob. you reach down, cupping the underside of his jaw. it's bare, and your soft hands glide over the scarred skin there. it is the first time he doesn't flinch.

"you--you!"

"say it."

"b-belong to you..."

the moonlight is blue when he makes you come. his lips wrap around your clit and suckle soft, and when he knows you're coming, he opens his mouth, hinging a strong jaw so he can swallow what drips from you and take in mouthfuls of it. there is a glare over you, a blue light that shines over your sweaty, shivering body, and ghost nearly bites.

as if the blue eyes he can't keep out of his head, the blue eyes that follow him everywhere he goes, are mocking him for taking the thing he knows he shouldn't have. he's telling him to leave you. that there's still time to let you go. that what he has in his hands, what he has at his mercy, is too soft and too pretty and too gentle to be touched by what he will bring to her doorstep.

you sit up on your elbows, half-lidded, face wet with your tears. ghost almost believes the blue that washes over you, but then his eyes meet yours, and it is over. you're smiling.

this is acceptance. because you know what he is. you know what he does. the gun on him is real. the black in his eyes isn't a trick of the light. the poison spreading in his veins isn't just a sickness, it is a cancer, and this will kill him, and it is contagious.

you cup his face, bringing him up, letting him crowd the space between your legs as he leans over you.

he would care. he wants to care. and when he kisses you, sealing your fate, he remembers, suddenly. the blue moonlight is gone.

and this isn't real.