#but bc he is sinning by allowing himself these moments of living

[aro-ortega]

thinking about how i read that the jesus prayer is common to recite throughout the day for orthodox christians and thinking about vanya muttering it to himself before/after kissing ricardo or chen

edit, context: in english, the jesus prayer is "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner"

[luthienne]

hey lovely hi! I wanted to ask you something about writing. First of all i love love love the way you write matt and Frank! So on point and detailed and so well observed. I wanted to know how do you understand them i mean what are your ways to study a character?

I hope I'm making sense and im sorry for being a bother 😭 love you.

hi first of all i love you sm for this oh my god?? you're not a bother at all, i could talk about matt forever. writing him true to character is the highest compliment i could ask for 🥹

several thoughts come to mind — first i think of the characters as they are individually, then as they are tied to one another; once tied together through the threads of the story, there is no separating them. just as there is no separating the choices they make now from all the choices in the past that led up to this moment. where do the boundaries of the character as laid out in the source material brush up against the boundaries of the character as i understand them & what archetypal role are they fulfilling (if relevant).

also the mutability of the boundary between archetypes: i.e. matt descends into 'hell' to bring frank out, orpheus role; matt hears & carries everything, god-like role; matt accepts this as a call to action, hero; matt takes it upon himself to punish these 'evildoers', devil; matt takes these sins upon himself, christ figure; matt is wounded in his noble pursuit, martyr figure. & how do his roles change in relation to the characters he shares a scene with — fisk (god-like in seemingly limitless influence) / matt (hero/martyr).

what life is there for a hero outside of their duty in a story like this? what room is there for him to be human? that's what i want to know. so i take what we know from what we've been given:

matt is the son of a boxer -> he grows up with the inherent understanding that two things can be true at once: hands capable of love can also be capable of violence

matt, as a child, saves an old man and loses his sight -> he accepts at a very young age the concept of heroic acts & their consequences (inevitability)

matt’s father chooses to die a 'hero' rather than live as a flawed but present father -> better to be a hero, to live and die by those familiar consequences than to be a flawed but present person (2nd ex. of heroes and their consequences, inevitability)

matt’s next father figure is violent but it is through that violence he learns to navigate an overwhelming world -> violence = love

stick leaves, like his father left, like his mother left -> to love is to lose (inevitability)

matt is only human, after all, it's what's most compelling about him as a character. and the show really did let us sit in those long moments of quiet witness to matt's undeniable humanity. he is flawed, he stumbles in fights, he can’t catch his breath, his faith buckles under the weight of his grief; he doesn't understand how to be human, how to maintain relationships, how to reconcile the darkest parts of the world and of himself with his faith in humanity and belief in redemption. the world is overwhelming to him on every sensory level. every touch is a modified blow? he lives that. he looks outside of himself for light (foggy, faith). when he reaches his breaking point, he breaks rather than turn to the people he loves because of the lessons he internalized as a child. stick left because matt loved, despite everything. despite everything, his love > his rage (bc his rage is his grief & his grief is another face of his love).

even after foggy finds out matt's secret life of physical violence, he still refers to him as "my soft-hearted partner" because it's true, matt cannot help but love & recognize humanity in others. it's because of this that he feels called to balance two unsustainably contradictory lives: using his voice to fight for redemption in court; taking it into his own hands when the law fails. taking their blood onto himself, by himself.

and that is the only touch he allows himself to experience—violence. blood on his knuckles, in his mouth, in his throat. and when his body is torn open and his secrets bared through his wounds, we get another glimpse into the reality of heroes and their consequences. foggy is not treated as an audience stand-in to giddily marvel at matt's abilities and how cool they are, he's heartbroken. he’s fucking devastated. his best friend is bleeding out on his apartment floor. he doesn't want matt to die. he doesn't want matt to be daredevil, he doesn’t want matt to be a hero — because foggy, more than anyone, understands matt's humanity and mortality. and foggy, more than anyone, selfishly wants matt to be his friend first. let hell’s kitchen take care of itself. why should matt die for a community that doesn’t love him like foggy loves him? that doesn’t know him like foggy knows him? he knew matt before he became a story. their time at columbia grounds their friendship & grounds matt to a life that is as close to normal as any comicbook story. they stay up late studying, they drink a little too much, they live together and achieve a kind of domesticity that comes easy to foggy but utterly incomprehensible to everything matt knew before foggy. we see a glimpse at a life with foggy that represents a gentle kind of safety and happiness — everything matt has been denied in his life until then. everything that the momentum of the story demands matt cannot keep (as hero).

and then there's frank. composed of rigid codes and immovable beliefs, just as much as matt, but on the other side of the line matt has drawn in the sand. that line represents matt’s faith in humanity and belief in redemption. despite living the worst of it, despite bearing the brunt of it. matt can't lose frank because matt never had frank; and yet matt and frank hold an inherent understanding of one another that no one else can. two sides of the same coin: unwavering & fatal sense of duty that walks them in a winding but inevitable line toward their respective fates; acceptance of the roles life has given them in what life has taken from them. it's not that they want to die, it's just that they’ve lived so long in the depths of their own private grief that they can’t see living outside of them.

so of course foggy doesn't want to matt to be a hero because there is no story where the hero comes home unscathed, there is no story where the hero is not brought to his knees. to love matt is to accept he could lose matt. either through death or through his inevitable transformation into something foggy may not recognize.

(now matt's unwritten rules by which he lives are bleeding into other characters' lives, consequences spiraling outward & outward)

a perilous thing began with wanting to explore this idea: a story that revolves around the moment when the hero is brought to their knees (figuratively & literally) that marks the separation of who they were before and who they must become after (transformation), if there is to be an after -> internal vs external consequences; forced passivity; how does the hero come back from that & who is he if/when he comes back from that. is he recognizable? i also wanted to look at the hero & the story through someone else's eyes, someone who could be more objective than me, more objective than foggy (whose love for matt clouds his observations, as it did in light perception). and who could objectively understand matt's actions & motivations better than frank? the anti-hero and matt's foil.

so i first look at the character through the lens of the story that’s been told and then the story i want to tell, i look at him through the lens of other characters and i assemble a picture from there. i look at matt through the events of his life, through his relationship with violence & his relationship with his very mortal body. unlike other superheroes he is not invincible, he is not bulletproof, he is not capable of flying, or softening a long fall; he is not capable of throwing his adversaries across a room, he is barely capable of saving himself from his own self-destructive choices. he has a damaged & unbearably human body. everything he can do he has fought tooth and nail for. he doesn't have superpowers like telekinesis or lasers that come out of his eyes; he has loss, he has grief, he has rage. we can all relate to that. he has a voice that is capable of giving a second chance to others (in court) but he lives and dies a thousand deaths inside of the silence at his core he can't find his way out of. his inability to communicate his grief or desires in a bearable way.

perhaps he finds redemption through saving others because he doesn't believe he, himself, is otherwise worthy of redemption. if he did, he would relinquish his duty as hero, he would live a quiet & happy life of domesticity with foggy. perhaps in another world he does. he lays down his mantle, or he lives in a world where he never had to take it up. he's just matt, foggy's soft-hearted partner.

[loosesodamarble]

Hi Erika! For your ship game, can I get your thoughts on Obanai x Mitsuri (kny), Jellal x Erza (Fairy Tail), Lumiere x Secre (BC), and if I can be a little bold (and because I’m very curious), Henry x my oc Lorelei? Also, if you haven’t gotten asked about them Nacht x Josele (but I’m sure you’ve been asked already). Please 💖 Thank you! (Sorry if that is too much 😅)

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Oh Acacia, you absolutely SPOIL ME! 🥰💖

Buckle up, folks, this’ll be a long post.

…..

To start, there shall be a trend in these ships that boils down to “brooder and comforter.” One half of the couple is a bit (or maybe a lot) down on themselves and their partner is the warm embrace they need in life. The dynamic will forever and always be beautiful to me, just as much as “two pure sweethearts.”

Obanai x Mitsuri

Makes sense and 1000% compelled by it.

Obviously Obanai and Mitsuri fit that to a tee! Obanai is very clearly a broody boy and he states outright that Mitsuri saved him with her cheerfulness and smile. But it would be a massive disservice to the ship to ignore that Obanai also was Mitsuri's comforter in a way. She felt the way that he looked at her with affection whenever they were together which meant the world to her since she felt like it would be hard to love. They never judged each other and felt loved with one another and AAAAHHHHH HADKJHFLKAUHEILTHALEKTHKAEJG!

I know I've brought this up in the past but it bears repeating that I love this ship so much that I managed to work it into a college paper about depictions of (failed) romance in Japanese literature. Because, well, in a sense Obanai and Mitsuri's love wasn't successful. Let me share a bit of that essay to get my point across.

This mutual but unrecognized love is best described by the chapter title revealing Obanai’s backstory. The Japanese title is “hitsūna renjō” (悲痛な恋情) which I would translate as “a painful, miserable romance.” Mitsuri and Obanai’s feelings of self-loathing make their love a painful burden on their hearts. Even their confession is ultimately tragic, as both are in tears and on the cusp of death when their feelings come out.

Then again, the cycle of reincarnation allowed that love to continue and be acted upon. Still, this ship makes me VIBRATE with all the emotions. It's so unfair that Gotoge was able to invest me in this romance with only brief snippets and a small reassuring epilogue. And then the fandom just hammers the stake deeper into my heart. ObaMitsu. Beloved ship~!

.....

Jellal x Erza

OOOOHHHHHH! Man, it's been forever and a half since I really watched Fairy Tail but Jerza is that ship that sticks with you (and Gajevy but that wasn't the ship asked for, now was it).

So much sense is made with the ship and it'll never not compel me.

Again, Jellal is the more blatant brooder but Erza has plenty of moments of hitting low points (and it's usually over Jellal). And again, they both act as a source of hope in each other's lives. These two knew each other as kids and they made strong impressions on each other clearly. I mean, Jellal made some strong impressions on many people for a variety of not good reasons... ANYWAYS! It makes so much sense that Erza is always holding out hope for Jellal because his turn to darkness back in the day was very out of the blue so deep down in her heart, she'd know that something wasn't quite right. And even as she loves him, Erza expects Jellal to take responsibility for his actions. You talked about it yourself when discussing this ship but with Jerza, their personal feelings don't immediately mean Jella's sins/crimes can be ignored. He has to work to right them and fix himself. Jellal changes not because he's browbeaten into it but because he wants to be better for Erza. And Jellal isn't the only one changing. Erza is able to open up and let herself wish a little more because the trauma of their history is slowly being healed. Their love is such a journey. Multiple times they're pulled apart before finding each other again. And each time they meet, they heal a little more, grow a little closer.

.....

Lumiere x Secre

I won't say as much about these two as the others but I'm still a sucker for them!

In this case, Secre is the brooding soul while Lumiere is her comfort. She looked down on herself and her magic while Lumiere saw potential and inspiration. Lumiere gave Secre something to hope for and she gave him devotion. The way Secre's love endures over the centuries and she remembers to have hope from Lumiere's example is something that makes their love really special without them ever having to be in a relationship. We don't get Lumiere's perspective on Secre directly but the fact that he named his super special magic tool (the big spherical one) after her says quite a bit to me. She's important and special and helpful in Lumiere's eyes. Secre living on while Lumiere moves onto the afterlife is sad but he wishes her more happiness in a continuing future, even without him. It's an ending of separation but not of mourning and it's beautiful (even if I wish Lumiere could've stuck around).

.....

Henry x Lorelei

UwU CC x OC time~!

I actually did read the fic where they meet a bit ago. It's just in my queue for reblogging. But ooooooohhhhhhh! I CAN GUSH HERE!

So I will be real, there is one detail of the ship that doesn't make sense to me. But that's Tabata's fault for making it that even low mana people feel drained by an extended exposure to Henry's mana draining. It's just unfair that really no one but Asta can safely be around him with his curse in place. So it's not on you. You made every other aspect of the ship wonderful. Henry definitely would fall for someone as openly sweet as Lorelei and her sense of whimsy is a wonderful complement to Henry's loneliness. The way he so shyly begins to talk to her is so in character and I think adding Lorelei to Henry's backstory helps explain why he's easily able to just talk to Yami and later Asta since he now has experience meeting someone new. Lorelei's Lucky Magic seems interesting (and fits in with David's Dice Magic) and well, I think it brought luck to both her and Henry. And do I even need to say it but this ship got me hooked with one fic. It may need more time in the microwave before it finds a permanent spot in my heart but... I'm digging the vibes already.

…..

Nacht x Josele

YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

I’ve talked Nacsele before for the ask game but I’m gonna talk again!

GAAAAHHHH! The way Nacht always loved Josele and was content(?) to simply love her from afar... Josele harboring her love for Nacht when she felt he didn't love her back... It gets so messy when she's with Morgen because he truly did make her happier than words could say. But half of Josele's heart was with Nacht. And when they finally get together, after much heartache and soul searching and doubting, it's gorgeous. Nacht is so hesitant about the relationship that he doesn't even call Josele his girlfriend for a while because he still sees Josele as Morgen's love. Josele too was hesitant, not wanting to risk her happiness being destroyed again, but once she got a talking to from one of the Bulls, she embraced the chance to be with Nacht and helps him with his steps into the future.

AND I LOVE THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER! Josele never really stops mourning Morgen and the future they could've had. But she doesn't lose sight of the future she's attained with Nacht. She loves Nacht and the way he's able to forgive himself. And Nacht accepts that Josele will always have Morgen in her heart, he really wouldn't have it any other way. Nacht slowly but surely frees himself of his guilt and self-loathing to full embrace all the affection that Josele always had for him.

My ship... I love...

..........

AND I LOVED TALKING ABOUT AAAAALLLLL THESE SHIPS! AAADJHGLKHAIUHAETKJHAETUHUI!

Thanks for the chance to ramble, Acacia~!

[eremiie]

aot 139 rant bc i dont think ppl r understanding this chapter lmao

i’ve been seeing a lot of people hate on this chapter and call it a bad ending and everything so i’m here to break it down for the ones who aren’t understanding what’s going on and think it was a shit ending LMFAO

okay so first i think the issue is that a lot of people fail to realize that the way eren acted all throughout season 4 isn’t eren really, that is him putting his emotions at bay so that he can complete something that he laid out for himself for his friends.

eren from season 1-3 still exists, and that’s lowkey the eren that was talking the whole time in chapter 139— you can see the how he cares for his friends, you can see the desperation again, the compassion, everything in between.

so lets break down these panels;

panels 1-13 consists of the whole talk with armin. eren basically tells armin that everything that happened wasn’t by will, it was laid out for him, it was the path he needed to take in order to free his friends and free ymir.

think about this— this was destined for eren from the beginning. 

his plan wasn’t to have the rumbling destroy the whole earth, it wasn’t for any of his friends to die (he wasn’t even aware that some of them died), it wasn’t for anything besides for them to defeat him so that they can be free.

he sent a titan out to eat his mom because bertholdt dying would’ve fucked up the plan, he would strategically send memories down to his younger self, armin getting the colossal titan, eren telling mikasa he hated her, everything was according to plan— it was a part of the script that he needed to follow.

panels 14-16 consist of eren talking about mikasa. eren basically tells armin he doesn’t want her to move on form him, and he wants to live a long life with his friends and her. and that he doesn’t want to die.

people say this is out of character for eren— people don’t think that he has ever had feelings for mikasa, and it’s hard to see, i’ll give you that.

but people also fail to realize that relating back to panels 1-13, eren had something set out for him to do, the last thing he was thinking about was love. of course as a kid mikasa came off as overbearing, and she was, he had other things to worry about other things to accomplish— there was no time to reciprocate feelings. 

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her, because he does, and i don’t even mean so in a romantic OR platonic way. the gist is he loves her period, and her love is reciprocated in the best way he can.

and you have to remember that eren knows he’s about to die when his time with armin is up, he’s getting frantic and desperate— everything's dawning on him, he gets a little time to actually sit down think and talk about mikasa.

eren loves mikasa whether it be platonically or romantically, and that kind of hits him in that moment, and this is coming from someone who hasn’t always shipped eremika.

panels 17-21 consists of eren basically saying to atone for his “sins” it’a only right for him to die too and that armin will be the one to save humanity.

pretty self explanatory, but once again this was planned out, eren was gonna paint the eldians to be the heros, and eren did his whole mass murder plan for their sake, not his.

panels 22-39 eren completes his mission, the curse of ymir is broken, and im sure that at somewhat the same time that he was talking to armin through paths he was sending the same message of what he was doing to everyone else— since all eldians are connected through paths. that’s how they all found out and that’s why they all resonated with eren. it needed to be let know that he isn’t a bad guy, especially with real people running around thinking he is LMAO

panels 39 and onward, everyone moves on, they’ll live out their lives with the freedom that eren granted them.

this is mikasa’s character development, she’s finally able to move on and live her life without eren. she’s allowed to mourn, she’s allowed to be sad, hell— they’re about to have eren’s funeral, that’s one reason she’s there. 

i say this is her character development because the first time eren died she was ready to die herself, but now that eren has actually died she’s not trying to go out with him— she’s mourning, and she misses him, but she’s trying her best to live her life with the freedom eren granted her.

she grows out her hair again that she always kept short for eren. to me that says a lot albeit how minor that detail is.

i’m not gonna say eren necessarily got reincarnated as a bird but i’ll say that these birds we see in attack on titan represent eren, and that’s why the bird tugs on her scarf, it’s like eren letting her know that he’s still with all of them and that he’s happy that they’re happy.

it’s tragic, that our main character who sought freedom the whole entire time doesn’t get to experience it himself, but it shows how sacrifices have to be made, that shonens don’t always have to be about winning. that there are tragic heroes, and everyone has a story to tell.

attack on titan teaches you lessons, it gives you an insight on life— and if you let this ending ruin the whole series for you because you fail to grasp the whole concept, every character, and every plot element, that is on you.

so thank you, isayama for creating and sharing such a beautiful story, because this series will live in my heart forever, and so will eren— he’s such a complex well written character and it’s sad to see that not everyone can understand him.

anyways ty for listening to my rant if you made it all the way through, gn <3.

[wickedfairfolk]

like ok listen. it’s so easy to reduce him to simple comedic relief (bc let’s be honest, romano’s dynamic w most of the main cast is hilarious), but romano’s little mood swings and outbursts tell such a tale to me. i can only imagine how deeply impacted romano’s self esteem must be. even though he’s older, he’s probably always felt under the shadow of his brother. it’s quickly evident that he possesses none of rome’s knack for the fine arts, his natural charm. while veneziano laughs freely and dances around the house, hangs beautiful portraits of the women from the market on the kitchen walls, lovino scowls and trips over his own little feet, curses as he chases his crying brother around the yard with the little wooden sword antonio gifted him for his birthday. he catches harsher scoldings; “sit up straighter, lovino,” “i see your latin lesson was incomplete again today,” “by god, have you ruined your new tunic wrestling with antonio again today?” he stays home from trips to the beach to fix the gate to the chicken coop that he fell on chasing rabbits, cries in the back yard when veneziano returns, face sticky from taffy and salt spray. he sings too loud, returns from mass with a sour face from scolding from the vassals. he sneaks out of bed to listen to antonio, nonno, and francis speak with the men with swords and maps and returns to bed with tear stained cheeks when he gets caught. and when he’s gone, when his inconsolable brother is taken by the strange, uptight and pinched austrian, lovino doesn’t understand. he spends his true adolescence at spain’s feeling neglected, missing his brother and hating the way his nonno hid something so important and for seemingly selfish reasons. for starting him on the wrong foot, and under the thumb of someone stupid like antonio, who insists on leaving a child to attend to his entire estate. and when spain goes away for months at a time with his idiotic consorts (prussia and france) he asks belgium’s brother to teach him to fight. he tries to sneak little notes to veneziano on the rare visits he and spain make to the austro-hungarian estate, and his bitterness grows when he sees how easily his brother discards them, distracts himself with laundry and sonatas from the growing, abstract feelings that lovino knows he must feel, as clearly as lovino himself feels the heartbeat for italia, italia, italia. i’m sure lovino’s attempts for independence were singlehanded, and when he does finally drag veneziano back to his house, they spend a good 50 years arguing. about their memories of their grandfather. about the way their country’s people embrace veneziano as their own, despite his stubborn desire to relieve himself of the duties of a nation, despite romano’s evenings spent feeling their pain, their anger, their pride, their culture all alone. despite romano leading them through battle, starvation, cleaning up veneziano’s messes across the 18- and 1900s, wearing himself thin for their sake, he will always be romano, and veneziano will always be italia. and at a certain point, romano probably begins to feed into his own internal oppression. he curses his reflection, finding his nonno when his eyes grow hard and weary with himself. i think romano probably wonders when his good deeds, his simple life, will begin the atonement for sins he’s convinced he must have committed to be so miserable. he lives a simple, conservative life. he chain smokes as he does paperwork on the balcony, tends to the little windowbox herb garden, and wishes for a different past. he cleans up the beach house after his brother makes rare visits with germany, tends to spain when he’s sick, attends mass on a strict schedule, no matter which country he’s in. he never allows himself true relaxation, always worried that the other shoe will drop, always waiting for the moment where he’ll have to drag his brother out of trouble, put his own aside for the sake of putting out another fire.

[mellowswriting]

HAPPY SINFUL SUNDAY!!! okay hear me out… flirting with din in order to distract him and steal a bounty from him

this is so funny to me bc I know he'd be so infuriated that you duped him but so turned on by how smoothly you were able to pull one over on him. confused horny Din is just *chef's kiss*

The moment Din realizes what has happened, his brain blue screens. Because how?? Why??? His dick is so hard right now and he simply cannot compute??? Both you and the bounty have disappeared, and while he's infuriated that he fell for your little ruse, he finds that he cares very little about the bounty. No, he wants to teach you a lesson. Once the fog clears, he manages to get himself back into the one track mind that helps him hunt down bounties - only this time, he's after you.

He has to give it to you, you're good. But he's better. They don't call him the best in the business to pump his ego. Din manages to find you just before your ship takes off. You're expecting him to show up and you do manage to give a good fight, but he's just so fucking big. A broad man with a strength that makes you shiver and impenetrable armor that makes any real attempt at getting away damn near impossible.

"You shouldn't play stupid games, pretty girl." Din grumbles as he restrains you against the freezing metal wall of your ship. "I want my bounty."

"How about we go halfsies?" You huff with a breathless laugh.

A pause from the Mandalorian behind you. "And why would I do that?"

"Well, you get half the money..." You let your back arch, grinding back against him. "...and you get me. Seems fair, since I did all the real work."

That last little comment gets you shoved down onto the floor and for a terrifying second, you think you've pushed him too far. Din stares at you from behind that stoic helmet, his chest heaving and fists clenching at his sides, and you know he's just enraged and fucking horny. He has you on your hands and knees in a flash, your clothes tearing under his unforgiving hands, and he wastes no time wrecking you just like you deserve.

It's rough, fast, and dirty. The adrenaline rush and anger and pure need don't allow for anything else. Your knees are sore from the harsh floor and there are bruises in the shape of his fingers on your thighs and hips from the unforgiving bite of his beskar armor, but he more than makes up for it with the two orgasms that tear through you so hard that you're left trembling and dazed on the floor of your own fucking ship.

Din takes a moment to catch his breath, watches the way your arm drapes over your eyes as you come down from his thorough fucking, his cum splattered across your belly. You're just so pretty, especially like this, and you're obviously good at the job. So Din breaks the silence with an offer that would leave your lives forever entangled with each other.

"You should join my crew."

-----

sinful sunday

[patchofsunlight]

Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.

It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.

He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.

Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.

Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.

But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.

But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.

“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”

The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”

Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”

The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”

“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”

Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”

“Please, I—”

“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.” 

“Y/N—”

“Leave, Zuko.”

With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.

-----

“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”

“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”

“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”

Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted. 

They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.

“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”

“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”

“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”

“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”

He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.

Maybe he had a crush on her, too.

-----

Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.

“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we’d never have made it past the courtyard.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”

“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.

“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”

“Think about our place in the universe?”

Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.

She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.

They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power. 

The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too. 

-----

“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”

“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”

“Y/N!”

The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”

“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”

They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”

She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”

“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”

“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”

She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”

“Yeah.”

The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”

Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.

They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.

They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.

“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”

He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.

He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.

But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.

“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”

He turned his head to look at her, “really?”

She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”

“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”

Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.

Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”

“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.

“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.

In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.

It was nice to dodge the nightmares.

-----

“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”

“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”

“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”

“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”

“I am always full of surprises.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”

“But you do like him, right?.”

“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”

Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”

“So you admit you like him!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”

“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”

“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”

“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?”

Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.

“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”

He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”

She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.

“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.

“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”

“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.

“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”

“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”

“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”

He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.

Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”

She only smirked in response.

-----

The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.

“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”

He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”

Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”

He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”

They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My love, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.

“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”

“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”

“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”

Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.

“Zuko, wait!” she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”

“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”

“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”

“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”

  He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.

She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth. 

She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.

Spirits, she really loved him.

“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”

is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao

taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece

thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

[subidol]

Request: Stray Kids React to being pushed up against the wall.

Pairing: Sub!Skz X Dom!Reader

⚠️: Mention of sex

A/N: One of my recents, uploaded. I should be updating soon with an NCT Jaemin fic, and a Renjun one. But you know who I really wanna write about too? The Boyz New and WayV YangYang 🥵💘

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I.N

♡ Poor baby maknae would be so surprised and flustered that it might render him speechless.

♡ He was just going about his day, being his adorable self when you saw him smiling cutely at you from across the room.

♡ It seemed innocent enough but honestly, all you wanted to do was wipe that boyish grin from his face and fuck him against the dance practice room mirror.

♡ Next thing he knew, your arms had him pinned to the wall, and knees trapping his legs.

♡ Jeongin's first reaction was to squeak in horror until you began kissing at his neck.

♡ "Noona....what are you- nngh...stop, the others are here..."

♡ 100% screaming in embarrassment but secretly liked it tbh.

♡ And you'd be like "Don't think you'll get away with being so darn precious. God, I don't know whether to cuddle and praise you or fuck you raw."

♡ That sentence would have him dead lmao, but you better live up to it.

♡ "T-then why choose, (Y-Y/N)..."

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Seungmin

★ SeungMEAN was asking to be cornered let's be real here.

★ Honestly who did he think he was when you heard him gossiping to Minho about how you couldn't control him.

★ "Ahaha, (Y/N) is such a cute girl~ trying to keep me from doing things she doesn't like~ well I'm going to drink whether she likes it or not."

★ Bratty little shit.

★ He was so confident about misbehaving around you that he didn't realise that being intoxicated with you wasn't a good idea.

★ You allowed him to drink and once he was drunk, used that to your advantage, you she devil.

★ You'd push him against the wall, as he moaned in surprise.

★ "G-get off me (Y/N)...really, I'm drunk, stop itttt..."

★ "So you say I can't control you, honey? Then what's this? You can't move."

★ Oh no sweet Seungmin has entered the building; good boy activate.

★ "Y-you do...you own me, Jagiya.."

★ He's so sweet when he's trapped in your embrace and unable to fight back!

★ That doesn't mean he'd get away with it!; you'd snatch his glass from his hand and pour the wine down his shirt.

★ "Oops...I told you not to drink, baby. I spilled it. Strip, now. I'll lick it up instead."

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Felix

♥︎ Okay, being pushed up against the wall would definitely push his buttons because he'd get awkward and creepy on you lol.

♥︎ My idea is that It'd happen when you were playing a game or he was running away from you, and you'd catch up, thus trapping him against you.

♥︎ "Ahaha, sunshine, what are you doing?"

♥︎ He's not oblivious, he knows it's turning you on as much as it is him.

♥︎ Wants to make a move but at the same time wants to reference memes in weird situations.

♥︎ So it'd be you who'd press your lips together. In that moment he'd become like a little kitten, purring beneath you, surrendering completely.

♥︎ It makes him feel tiny.

♥︎ "Oh fuck, (Y/N)"

♥︎ Don't forget the deep voice

♥︎ Loves the sound of your breaths mingling together and faces so close.

♥︎ Overall, Felix has a weak spot for being pushed against a wall...especially if you fuck him against it hehehe.

♥︎ "You're so pretty Lixie. Letting me have complete control.

♥︎ Until one of the other members catch you, then he'll be getting tortured by everyone for months and the cringe will be stuck in his head forever.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Han

☆ Good boy™️

☆ Jisung really doesn't like being intimidated and pushed against the wall because he prefers you to be gentle.

☆ He's such a good boy, so you don't need to be rough with him, just treat him carefully and love him 🤧

☆ "Have I done something wrong? Please be gentle...I'm a good boy, Mommy."

☆ Wouldn't mind it if his legs were wrapped around your waist, holding him securely against the wall and making him feel safe in your embrace.

☆ "Mommy is nice and warm.."

☆ The only time he's a brat is when he has you pinned to the wall, giving you affection and kisses without permission.

☆ THEN it's time for punishment! He's so cute, how dare he!!!!

☆ "You're so cute, baby. Sometimes I want to just trap you under me, and watch as you wriggle about in terror. But it's a good thing you're an obedient boy so I don't have to."

☆ Praise his body and kiss him all over in that position!!! Can't stress this enough!!

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Hyunjin

♣︎ Hyunjinnie thinks that being pushed against the wall is a very intimate thing and he loves affection so doesn't see it any differently from any other skinship.

♣︎ But be warned: initiating this may get you squished in cuddles and activating a very clingy baby.

♣︎ "You're so amazing, Jagiya! I love you so muchhhhhhhh!"

♣︎ Don't be fooled though, because he can go from cutesy sweetheart to chaotic sexy because the H in Hyunjin stands for hot mess.

♣︎ He's all soft when you kiss him against the wall until you GRAB. HIS. HAIR. His long fucking beautiful hair.

♣︎ Then the sinful goddamn moans that come from his mouth...yikes.

♣︎ "Harder. Hurt me. I dare you."

♣︎ Sweaty, being dominated by you, humiliated of how weak he gets, this is a sight to die for.

♣︎ Now you're the one weak in the knees!

♣︎ He'll turn the tables so that you're now defenceless, but his submissive nature still shines as he lowers himself on his knees for you, ready to pleasure your body.

♣︎ "What did I do to deserve you, huh?"

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Changbin

♧ Yeah don't expect Changbin to be too enthusiastic about this...

♧ He already gets teased for his height and now you're using it against him by pinning him to the wall.

♧ It's not that he wouldn't like it in private but to annoy him in front of his members or staff...eek he's not impressed lol.

♧ But it's not like he has a choice anyways 😂.

♧ Binnie is like a closet sub and feels uncomfortable with liking you take control but it's just his insecurities talking.

♧ "Stop it (Y/N). I have to work on this song, quit bothering me."

♧ You have to coach him into realising it's okay for him to be open and vulnerable with you.

♧ "Binnie, go up against the wall for me? I want to kiss you."

♧ Aww he's so cute being overwhelmed with your affection.

♧ He still doesn't like being cornered but prefers to be pinned to the bed bc like at least it's comfy ahaha.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Lee Know

♪ We all know that Minho is a brat so really it's no surprise he had this all planned out.

♪ Usually when you're mad you pin his arms back, attacking the neck before fucking his brains out.

♪ so good at sexually frustrating you, it's easy to say that he had no problem getting punished, and in a special place too.

♪ "You fucking slut! Dancing in the mirror and teasing me so bad."

♪ Was he gonna gets away with that?!

♪ And what better way to express your horny rage than cornering him to the mirror, back hitting it's cold surface

♪ "What are you going to do, Jagiya? Stop me?"

♪ He's asking for it!!!

♪ Minho will fight back the moment you pin him against the dance practice room mirror, until you have to spank him and roughly toss him around and slap him.

♪ That's what he wants; to be put in his place. He gets what he wants anyway.

♪ "Face the goddamn mirror. I want you to see how much of a whore you are as I fill you up with my girl cock."

♪ Pegging him as he savours the sight of it 🥵.

♪ His whole body pressed against the wall, he loves the control you have.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Bang Chan

♢ Chris would think it's adorable how you try to push him so he's back to the wall, as if you had any strength over him.

♢ "Aww, babe, you're so cute! Look at my arms! Can you really win over my strength?"

♢ It's exactly for that reason that he lets you have your way with him and doesn't fight because why would he?

♢ He's a switch so he's more than happy to be roughly pushed around by you, especially because it doesn't hurt him.

♢ He might become a crackhead and make jokes if you randomly do it tho.

♢ Thinks that he's the one in control but when your hands slip under his shirt, fondling with his body, he's wEAK lol.

♢ Might beg you to push him against the wall instead of it naturally happening.

♢ Just a normal thing for you two.

♢ OMG him whispering things into your ear as you nuzzled into his neck.

♢ "Aren't you a dirty girl, wanting to dominate me like this all the time. You're getting me needy, you gonna take responsiblility?"

♢ Felix the other Aussie crackhead would take the piss 😭 rip chan 2020

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

[empyreanwritings]

A Different Side to You

Pairing: Angel!Sam Wilson x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 7k (yall this is my longest fic that isn’t a series, i’m crying)

Warnings: definitely some blasphemous talk, blood and gore, mentions of sacrifices, language

Summary: You like to get under Sam’s skin because he makes it easy, but he doesn’t realize just how far you’ll really go to make sure he’s safe.

A/N: Hello friends! This is my submission for @buckysknifecollection​ writing challenge, congrats again on reaching 3k bby cause you deserve every follower and more! My prompt was Flirting in Inappropriate Places, and I tried to be as interesting with it as I could asdlkfjd ! Please let me know what y’all think! I crave attention xx

Divider by @whimsicalrogers​ - check them out bc their edits are amazing x

"Do you pray, or is that kind of redundant given your direct line to the big man?"

Sam refused to look over at the intruder. It was bad enough you felt the need to bother him with your presence again but to do it in a church? He feared if he looked over at you, he'd throw the hymnal straight at your thick skull. That kind of behavior was unbecoming for God's favorite, and he knew better than to test his father's patience - even if you tested his own daily.

You sighed dramatically, and he heard the familiar click of your heels as you walked down the center aisle. You traced your finger against the armrest of the pews; your nails dipped in black paint occasionally leaving a small scratch on them. The wood was old and soft, it was easy to leave marks behind, and it made you smile knowing they wouldn't be able to buff it out without ruining the wood altogether. A church marked by a demon. How sad.

For the last year, you brought it upon yourself to cause trouble to Sam. Nat told you not to bother with him; she knew her father would protect him at all costs, but you couldn't stop yourself. There was something about Sam that made every part of your body feel hot - and not in the Hellfire kind of way. Maybe it was his strong will or those arms. Either way, you enjoyed bugging him because you knew you'd make him crack eventually.

It was too hard to resist you, ask any man or woman who was allowed to live after a nightly encounter with you.

"I have to say," you leaned against the pew directly in front of Sam and crossed your arms over your chest, "Orange really is your color, Sammy. I don't think I've ever seen you look so delicious before."

"Can you not flirt with me in a house of worship? It's bad enough that you are here," he hissed. "Do not disrespect my father by flirting with me as well."

"Touchy, touchy. I can see I've struck a nerve, so I'll tell you why I'm here."

Sam's brows raised, and for once, he seemed intrigued by what you had to say. "Oh? It's not to bother me?"

Part of your visit was to bother him, you couldn't deny that, but it was mostly a professional visit. Nat needed to return to Hell and deal with a few demons who were stirring up trouble. The longer Nat stayed on Earth, the more restless they became down below. Some of them even went as far as to say Nat was no longer their queen and wanted to overthrow her. And, of course, she couldn't let that happen, so she left you in charge of any earthly factions trying to rise up while she went down to control the chaos. You hated being left behind, but the company wasn't terrible.

The only way you could really get the demons on Earth under control was if you had Lilith's knife. It was the only knife capable of truly killing a demon, not just send them back to Hell to crawl their way out again. After the war between the angels and demons, the angels took the knife and hid it so no being could ever wield its power again, and you knew Sam was there when Steve hid it.

You suggested a trade: Sam loaned you Lilith's knife in exchange for one of your Souls. No one would ever be willing to give up a soul they took in a deal, but if it meant you'd get your hands on the knife, you would do it.

"Are you out of your mind?" Sam roared, his cool exterior finally cracking at your audacity to ask something of him. "You really think I am going to hand over Lilith's knife to you? You know very well that knife doesn't just kill demons, Y/N."

"I would never use it on you, you drama queen." You paused, and a wicked smile spread across your face. "Unless you asked me to, of course."

He scoffed. You felt the disgust rolling off him, and you tried not to be annoyed that the sheer thought of being with you made him feel sick. You weren't looking for him to love you, or anything like that, but he didn't have to act like sleeping with you was so terrible. It wasn't as if you could get any sort of disease - perks of being a demon, after all.

"I am not giving you the knife, so you might as well leave."

"I can wait," you purred and left your spot on the pew to explore the sanctuary. You knew it would bother Sam if you stayed any longer, so you were going to milk your time there.

The church was one of the oldest in the city. You never fully understood the separate denominations of the church, but you noticed Baptists put less work into their churches than others. The pews were old, the fabric on them was a faded green that was torn in some spots. The white walls were slightly yellowed and peeling in the corners, but you only noticed if you focused long enough. It helped that the lights, which you could see dust hanging from the top of them, were dimmed. The blue carpet on the stage was the only thing that seemed new, and even that didn't seem to be in the best condition.

You walked over to the podium, and from the corner of your eye, you could see Sam tense up. You smirked and continued on. A worn bible sat on top of it; there were tabs sticking out the side, marking several pages for future sermons, you assumed. You grabbed the end of one and flipped it to the marked page, running your fingers across the lines.

You opened your mouth to start reading, but Sam appeared in front of you almost instantly. He slammed the bible closed, barely giving you time to yank your hand back. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he refused to let you speak the words of his father.

Touchy, touchy, you thought.

Sam grabbed your elbow to escort you out, but you whirled around and faced him head on. You pressed your chest against his; you were so close, your nose brushed the tip of his. He hated being this close to you, but he made no sign of backing down. God's favorite was one of the proudest as well. A deadly sin, you chose to remind him.

He watched your eyes flick down to his lips and back to his eyes in a matter of seconds. It happened so quickly, he thought he imagined it, but he knew better. You were shameless.

"I guess I'll get going now, Sammy," you hummed as you trailed your finger down his chest. "Please wear this sweater the next time I see you. Like I said, orange is your color."

You disappeared without another word, and the breath escaped Sam's lips in a cough. Well, it was less of a cough, and more of a strangled gasp. You really had a way of getting under his skin, and he hated admitting that to himself.

He knew one thing was certain, he couldn't let you get Lilith's knife. No matter your intentions.

"What are they doing?"

You jumped at the sound of Sam's voice, thinking you were caught by one of the people you spied on, but instantly relaxed when you saw him standing behind you. You glanced back at the scene in front of you - an altar with fake skulls the group probably bought at Michael's, red fabric thrown carelessly around everything, and three men in black cloaks mumbling to themselves about Lucifer. A woman was tied to the table directly in the middle. She squirmed and screamed for someone to help her, but no one was around these parts for miles, and the group knew it. It was why they picked this spot in the first place.

"Virgin sacrifice," you grumbled. "I could smell the stench of goat's blood miles away, so I popped in to see what they were doing."

"You can't just let them-"

"Relax, Sammy. I'm going to stop them. I actually hate human sacrifices." You turned around and smiled wide when you looked over at Sam. His brows furrowed, confused by your sudden change in mood, but when your eyes looked down at his shirt, he knew what you were about to say. "You're wearing orange."

He rolled his eyes. "I had nothing else to wear."

"You're wearing orange because I said you looked good in it, aren't you? Don't be embarrassed, Sammy, you look absolutely-"

"Don't you have a virgin sacrifice to interrupt?"

Your mouth formed an 'o' as if you just remembered why you were here. You told him to wait one moment before you disappeared behind the red fabric.

Screams filled the abandoned warehouse, but they didn't belong to the woman. The stench of blood and mutilated flesh hung in the air around Sam. It was a smell he was sure you were used to, but he almost lost his lunch thanks to it. When the screaming stopped, Sam thought the worst of it was over until he heard one of the boys beg for their lives. A wretched sob and a plea to be better interrupted by the sound of him choking on his own blood.

You escorted the woman out quietly. The poor thing trembled in your arms, yet it seemed you weren't the thing she was terrified of. You may have been a demon, but the monsters were the men willing to sacrifice her in the name of someone who didn't want human sacrifices to begin with. Well, Nat only liked sacrifices if the one dying was wicked, but that was another story.

The woman thanked you, tears and snot streaming down her face as she clutched onto your torso. You grimaced but did not pull away. Human comfort wasn’t something you fully understood, but you knew she needed a good hug right now, so you let it slide.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?" She sobbed.

Sam shook his head. He knew what you were about to say - she could offer her soul in exchange for helping her. Demons were all the same. They acted like what they did was for the benefit of others, but it always came at a price. A price the humans could barely afford. And just when he started to believe you did this out of whatever goodness you had in your heart, you were going to prove to him that you were just like every other demon.

"You owe me nothing." He sucked in a sharp breath. That wasn't what he was expecting at all. "Except…maybe don't go on dates with people you meet in cemeteries. This is New Orleans, you can meet better men at the bars."

She nodded and made her way out of the warehouse. You weren't worried about her spreading the tale of what happened today because she could be accused of murder if she did. No one would ever buy the tale that a demon swooped in and killed everyone just to save her. The witches of the French Quarter might, but they weren't lawyers who could bust her out of jail.

You noticed Sam staring at you and huffed. "What? Do you not approve of me killing those bastards?"

"No, I…" He trailed off for a moment, eyes wandering over every inch of your blood covered body.  He wasn't looking at you but trying to look through you and understand why you would do something like spare that woman's soul. "I don't understand why you didn't make a deal with that woman."

You shrugged. You felt no need to explain yourself to him.

"Wait, when you offered to exchange a soul for Lilith's knife, did you even have a soul to offer?"

"Several."

"Ones that aren't centuries old."

"Why does it matter how old they are? A soul is a soul, right?"

It hit Sam that you probably haven't made a deal since you first became a demon. There was a time where Nat required every demon to make deals with people, but even she grew bored of the lifestyle. Many demons continued making deals and ruining people's lives, but Sam wondered when you stopped - and why. You spent most of your days following him around just to bother him, which meant you didn't have much time to harvest souls of the innocent. So, why? Why did you stop, and why did you make it seem like it wasn't a big deal?

You turned away to avoid any questions he was inevitably going to throw at you. You walked around the body parts and looked through the trinkets they gathered for the sacrifice. It was a long shot, but you wanted to see if they got their hands on Lilith's knife. A small bubble of excitement burst in you when you saw a black dagger resting on the table, but you knew it wasn't the right one as soon as you touched it. No magic, no power. Just a boring kitchen knife dipped in paint.

He watched you look around in disappointment. Questions bombarded his mind, made him wonder what else he didn't know about you - what else he might have gotten wrong. You were still a demon, though, and he would never be able to look past that.

When your search turned up empty, you focused right back on Sam and the dark orange V-neck he wore. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he wore that shirt for you. And you knew it.

"So," you began with a smile, "I find it adorable that you are wearing more orange for me. Very fall…very romantic, if you ask me."

"I didn't wear it for you," he quipped. "I told you, I had nothing else to wear."

"Mhm, so you said. Well, if you don't like it, you could always just take it off. I wouldn't mind." You ran your finger along his exposed collarbone, and he quickly swatted at your hand.

"There is nothing sexy about you asking me to take off my shirt when it smells like blood."

You giggled, something that should have been adorable yet somehow sounded evil coming from your lips. "You'll get used to it after a while, but I'll let you change the subject for now. I know it's probably not good for God's favorite to be aroused at the idea of taking me on a sacrificial altar."

Sam deadpanned, and you practically howled out a laugh. He made it far too easy to get under his skin. As much as you would have liked for him to ravish you then and there, you were perfectly satisfied knowing you managed to annoy him. It was the second greatest pleasure in your life, next to torturing evil assholes who thought the world belonged to them.

You tried to turn the conversation back to Lilith's knife. You hoped that your display of mercy would make him willing to give up its location, but he stood his ground. He vowed to never let you see the knife, even if you did swear not to use it on the angels. The knife's power was too much for one to handle; he couldn't guarantee that after you used it on the rowdy demon faction, you wouldn't just turn around and use it on him or his brothers. Once the knife got a taste for blood, it always wanted more.

No matter what you told him about the threats of war in Hell and on Earth, he refused you. His stubbornness made your jaw clench, but you knew when to pick your battles. When the precious humans were in danger, he would be willing to give it up. Despite not wanting for it to get that bad, you knew it was the only way.

So, you'd wait, and until then, you'd drive him crazy with your flirtatious comments.

The next few days were…off, to say the least. You spent a lot of your time trying to get a feel for Sam's godly aura - something that had a distinct smell and feel to it most angels didn't even realize - but there was nothing. Every corner you turned, every chapel you visited, was hollow. Cold and empty, much like the feeling in your chest the longer you didn't see him. You knew it was possible he was just avoiding you, but you couldn't help but feel a little dreadful.

If something happened to Sam, you'd unleash Hell on earth. You would rip through every being you had to in order to get to him. The heavens haven't seen true bloodshed until you've put your mind to it, especially if you were going to avenge your non-existent lover.

But as you sat in one of Sam's favorite sanctuaries, you wondered if he had finally grown tired of your games. He was an angel after all, and you were nothing but a demon. Scum of the earth; knight of darkness and destruction. A small voice in the back of your head reminded you that you would never be any more to him. You looked around and realized, he might not have been missing at all, he may have just decided you were no longer worthy of his presence. You weren't sure which idea hurt more, and you didn't really want to take time to analyze it.

The funny thing about sadness is that it eats you from the inside. The harder you try to push it down, the more power you seem to give it. Even as you sat there, staring at the ethereal paintings on the ceiling, you couldn't stop the sadness from burning a hole into your heart. You closed your eyes and exhaled, feeling the heat from all the Bibles burning around you. And you smiled - not fully, but enough to push down the sadness once more.

"Where is my brother?" You opened your eyes and looked over at Steve, who went to work trying to put out the small fires you set. "For the love of dad, did you really have to burn the Bibles? You could have gone for the hymnals, at least!"

You hummed disinterestedly. "Why are you asking me about Sammy? I figured he went back to Heaven by now."

"He hasn't been home in months, but he usually checked in with me. I haven't heard from him in days now."

Okay, so maybe he was missing, and maybe you were too quick to start throwing yourself a pity party, but could anyone blame you? No one had to know you were willing to burn down a church simply because you thought Sam abandoned you.

"The last I saw Sam he was alive and well, I can promise you," you purred just to get under Steve's skin. "If I'm being honest, though, I haven't seen him since then. He usually pops up to scold me when I start trouble, and I did everything I could to get his attention! I even kicked a toddler, and he never came. I should have realized he could never get bored with me; obviously someone has taken him."

Steve blinked several times, trying his best to process your words. He didn't know where to start - the fact that you both tend to end up in each other's company willingly or that you would go so far as to kick a toddler to see him. He shook his head. How Sam managed to put up with your antics was beyond Steve. He always told his brother that a demon like you wasn't worth watching over, but Sam always had one excuse or another. Lately, he claimed it was to make sure you didn't find Lilith's knife, but even that excuse was flimsy at best.

He wanted to be in your company, and it baffled Steve most of all.

"I'm not going to touch any of that," he quickly shook his head and tried to push the disturbing thoughts out of his head. "Nat said there was rebellion going on in Hell. Do you think demons might have taken him to get under her skin?"

"I wouldn't put it past them, but I honestly think if the demon faction on Earth kidnapped him it's because they want Lilith's knife."

"And let me guess you want me to give it to you."

You nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If demons are behind Sammy's disappearance, they need to be taken out. Lilith's knife can do that, and you know it!"

"You think I'm foolish enough to give a blade that can kill demons and angels to a psychotic demon with stabbing tendencies?" Steve scoffed. "You're off your rocker even more than usual."

A moment passed, and your passive façade finally cracked. You kicked Steve, full force against his abdomen, and sent him flying towards the altar. He caught himself before he landed on the podium, but he didn't have enough time to block your next blow to his side. You knew it was enough to knock the air from his lungs and catch him off guard, so you quickly grabbed his throat and forced him to his knees. His angel strength usually made him an even match, but your rage was the one thing fueling you. It was too much for him to fight off.

You squeezed until he was gasping for air and slapping at your hands. His eyes grew wide when he looked up at you and realized you were in full demon form - eyes black, teeth pointed behind your sinister snarl, and your skin slowly flaking off and turning to ash. He had never seen you like this, and for once, he feared his life despite knowing you couldn't really kill him.

You leaned in close, letting him get a good whiff of the rotted flesh and brimstone. "Let me make something very clear, Michael, you will give me that knife because the longer you wait, the more danger my Sammy may be in. And if he gets hurt, I will tear the world apart until it rains blood for eternity. You and your daddy will have nothing to protect anymore, do you understand me?"

Steve shuddered as you dropped him to the floor. The use of his real name never brought a chill down his spine until it came from your lips. He knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that you no longer wanted the knife for yourself; you wanted it to end those who dared to take Sam away from you.

Realization dawned on him in that moment. You loved him. It was something he never knew a demon could be capable of, but your protectiveness…your anger…it all made sense now. You wouldn't let anything happen to Sam, and he knew giving you the knife wouldn't be the worst idea. The other angels might frown upon it, but they wouldn't question Steve's judgement. He'd make them understand why he had to, and why you were somehow the most trustworthy person to take it.

"I'll get you the knife," he gasped. "You find out where my brother is, and I will meet you there with the knife."

You slowly turned back into your "presentable" self at his words. The relief that you wouldn't have to torture the information out of Steve flooded you. Sam would be incredibly unhappy if he knew you hurt his family, even if it was a little deserved.

"I can find out within the hour, I have someone who owes me a few favors," you replied. "Keep an eye out for my text. I'll give you the coordinates on where to find me once I know."

Without another word, you disappeared, off to cause trouble wherever you needed to. Steve stood there, hands dropped at his side and a deep sigh escaping his lips. There was one problem to your plan: he didn't have a phone.

The moon just started to rise when you stepped through the dilapidated gates of the cemetery. Fog clung to the ground, making everything damp and humid. Bits of leaves stuck to the bottom of your boots as you walked, but you didn't care. You just wanted to get to Sam.

You felt in your element, oddly enough. Surrounded by darkness, Lilith's knife grasped tightly in your hand. You knew the night would end in a blood bath. The demons weren't going to let Sam go willingly, and you mentally prepared yourself for what he was about to witness. If you lost control, even for a split second, your true form would come out again. You knew he would never love you anyways, but once he got a real look at you, whatever tiny amount of hope you clung onto would be squashed.

None of it mattered, though. You only cared for Sam's safety.

The faction waited for you in one of the larger mausoleums. They almost seemed too relaxed as you walked in, as if the party couldn't start until you arrived. You glanced over and saw Sam bound, gagged, and tossed in the corner. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and not let the rage consume you over the sight of him.

Mystique, the leader of the faction, casually hopped down from the top of the stone casket and made her way to you. Her movements reminded you of a lioness, calm and in control as she stalked closer to her prey. She wasn't scared of you, and that was the one thing you were hoping for; you wanted her to underestimate just how cruel you could be.

She walked around you in circles, taking in your presence with a hungry grin on her face. Her eyes lingered on Lilith's knife longer than anywhere else, but she made no advances to take it from you.

"I see you brought the knife," she practically purred in delight. "I'm surprised the angels were so willing to hand it over, but I see kidnapping one of their own was the best way to get their attention."

"You weren't just trying to get their attention," you replied calmly. "You were trying to get mine as well."

"Well, I did have a feeling taking your lover boy would get you here."

You refused to look back at Sam, even though you wanted to. You had to lie your way out of her trap, and you wouldn't be able to contain yourself if you made eye contact with him in this moment. And you wouldn't be able to hide any of your emotions from Mystique.

"He means nothing to me. He was just a means to get Lilith's knife."

As the words left your mouth, your chest started to ache. You silently prayed - something you never thought you could bring yourself to do - that Sam wouldn't believe your words. Whether he ever planned on loving you back or not, you didn't want him to think you only saw him as a means to an end. If he never gave you the knife, you wouldn't have cared because you got to spend time with him. That was more than enough for you.

"For a demon, you're a terrible liar," Mystique sneered. "I've been watching you two. I know the truth, and honestly? I feel a little sad for you, Y/N."

Your lips formed a tight line, and you took a slow breath through your nose. "Why is that?"

"Because you're dumb enough to think he'll fall for you one day. Do you not see the heartbreak you're setting yourself up for? An angel will never see you as anything but the perverted failure of his father, and you are dumb enough to think he could ever see you as anything else." Her words cut into you, and you had nothing to retort. She was right; you came to terms with this before you ever step foot into his life. You weren't meant to fall for him and yet…you did. You tricked yourself. "Even Nat believes she is better than us, it's why we needed to take action! Can't you see? We're your family. We're able to give you what these angels never could - power and belonging. I know you crave both despite all your past protests."

She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and forced you to look at Sam. Her lips were next to your ear, and though you couldn't see it, you knew she was smirking. "All you have to do is kill him. Kill Gabriel and we'll accept you into our group. I can be a fair better leader than Nat ever could."

Sam's eyes grew wide as you stalked towards him. Mystique's words ran through your mind on a constant loop. He would never see you as anything other than a demon; he would never be able to love you the way you so desperately desired. The longer you stared at him, the easier it was to come to terms with that. But it didn't mean he deserved to die.

"There is one thing I think you are forgetting in all of this," you finally said, turning your back on Sam to face Mystique.

"And what is that, my dear?"

You shoved the knife through her throat, ignoring the spray of blood hitting your face. The other demons stood, ready to attack, but they faltered when they realized no one was going to give them an order. Mystique was too busy choking on her own blood.

Just before the light faded from her eyes, you leaned in close and whispered, "You get on my last fucking nerve."

You pulled the knife out and let her body drop to the ground. She was gone for good this time. Wherever the beings went when they were killed with Lilith's knife, you knew it wasn't Hell; she would never be able to crawl her way back to Earth and cause more trouble.

The other demons stood in shock as you stepped over her body. They didn't want to fight in you in fear of losing their own lives, but as you flipped the knife in your hand, they knew they had no choice. You weren't going to let any of them walk out of there alive. They started too much trouble for you and for Nat. This was your way of tying up loose ends.

You gave them props for putting up a good enough fight. They weren't coordinated without Mystique telling them what to do, but they tried their best. Even when bodies started to drop, and the smell of blood lingered heavily in the air, they fought tooth and nail to get away from you. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Not a single demon stepped through the mausoleum doors alive. Well, besides you of course, but that was kind of obvious.

Once everyone was taken care of, you made your way over to Sam. You looked him over several times, and a pout began to form on your lips.

"You're not wearing orange today!" You whined as you pulled the rag from his mouth. "I thought we agreed you'd wear orange the rest of your life for me."

He let out an exasperated breath. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Well I heard-"

"If quote Alice in Wonderland and tell me all the best people are crazy, I'm going to shoot you," Sam grumbled, kicking away the ropes from his ankles in a hurry.

You beamed over at him. It was the kind of smile that made you look unhinged, and the blood spattered on your cheeks didn't help. "Ooh, gunplay? Sounds kinky, I'm in! But I'm pretty sure you don't even know how to work a gun, so I'll have to teach you."

"Please don't."

Sam took your hand and allowed you to help him stand. He had been tied up for days, and he caught himself using the wall to keep himself from tipping over again as the blood started to rush to his limbs again. He noticed how you stayed close enough to catch him if he fell over but kept your distance to give him some space. You assumed he needed a break from being surrounded by demons, and you weren't entirely wrong. He just didn't include you in the list of demons he wanted to stay away from.

You quietly let him pull himself together and got to work on piling the demons' bodies on top of each other. Not many groundskeepers entered mausoleums, but you didn't want to risk anyone finding them. You made a mental note to return with some lighter fluid and take care of the remains before the sun rose. It wouldn't please Nat to know you left bodies out in the open for anyone to find.

Sam tried to shift his weight onto one foot, and he grunted in surprise when a sharp pain shot through his ankle. You were by his side instantly, using your shoulder support most of his weight.

"Are you okay?" You asked, searching his face for any signs of discomfort.

He nodded. "I'm not sure how, but I think they might have broken my ankle. It should heal soon, though."

"Let's get you to a safe place to rest. I need to get the knife back to Steve, and we don't really need any other demons stumbling on your injured self."

"You're actually giving the knife back?" His surprise made you wince. You told him the only thing you needed the knife for was the get the demon faction under control, but he never believed you.

Because you're a demon, your thoughts reminded you.

"I told you I only needed the knife for one thing Sammy," you huffed and helped him step out into the cemetery. "I would never lie to you."

Sam said nothing, but he quietly examined the side of your face as you walked together. He wasn't sure what he felt in that moment besides confusion. Deep down, he already knew you weren't one to lie to him, but he didn't understand why. Why you went to great lengths just to save him. Why you hated virgin sacrifices and didn't take souls. Why you spent most of your time around him when you could have been doing anything else. You were supposed to be a typical demon consumed by a lust for blood, sex, and souls, yet you had proven time and time again that you were far from his expectation.

He wondered if Mystique had been right - were you in love in with him? The thought of you being in love with him made him question everything he thought he already knew.

He couldn't bring himself to understand why he liked the way you flirted him, or why he wore orange just to see you smile. He easily could have gone back to Heaven by now, but he always found an excuse to stay. To see you.

As you escorted him through the gates and far away from the stench of blood, he sucked in a sharp breath. Perhaps Mystique wasn't right about everything. She claimed Sam could never see you as anything but a demon, but as he looked up at you now, that was the last thing on his mind. All he saw was the woman he finally admitted to himself he was in love with.

You slipped into the pew beside Sam, who had fully recovered from last night's incident. You were exhausted after spending your night burning bodies and tracking down Steve to return the knife. Even he seemed surprised you gave it up willingly, but you didn't bother to banter with him about it. You were tired of the angels always thinking the worst of you.

You leaned your head against Sam's shoulder, half-expecting him to pull away in disgust, but he didn't. He sat there in silence as you closed your eyes and let yourself relax for a few moments.

The silence between you two wasn't uncomfortable. Both of you felt like you had been to Hell and back, and not much needed to be said about that. You were still covered in blood, and your clothes reeked of burnt flesh. Sam, who was fully healed, rubbed at his wrists to try and get the phantom feeling of the rope away. You almost made a joke about how a fucked up demon sat next to an equally fucked up angel, but the humor died on your tongue before you could get it out. It was just too much effort.

Sam sighed and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. "She was wrong, you know."

"About what?" You murmured so softly, you weren't sure you spoke out loud.

"About my feelings for you."

You sat up and groaned, feeling all of your muscles groan along with you. "Don't tease me, Sam. It actually hurts my feeling for you to lie to me like this."

"I'm not lying!"

"Sure, you're not."

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. The sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn. You knew how this played out because he wasn't supposed to love you; he wasn't supposed to see you as anything but a demon. Not a single celestial being would ever approve of him falling in love with you, and you would never be able to find peace.

"Listen to me," he began with a small, hopeful smile, "I love you. Do I fully understand it? Absolutely not. You're crazy, and I'm pretty sure you kill pedophiles for breakfast. You also willingly kick toddlers, which I don't approve but…I love you."

"No one will approve us being together, you know," you whispered as if someone was already listening in on you. "Not God, not Nat, not Steve. They'll always have something to say about us."

"Then let's get out of here for a bit."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want to go." You quickly glanced to the side, and he rolled his eyes. "If you make another comment about that confessional booth, I will lose my mind."

You softly laughed and leaned in ever so slightly. You were officially invading his space, but you weren't making the first move yet. You wanted to give him one last chance to change his mind, to come to his senses or whatever it was he needed to do, before he turned his back on everything he knew just to be with you. Would it hurt? Absolutely. But you needed to know that this was going to last between you two. You weren't sure if you could live with the heartbreak of losing Sam.

"I think you've already lost your mind, Sammy," you teased. "You want to be with a demon after all."

He cupped your cheek in his hand, gently stroking your bottom lip with his thumb. It was an act so intimate, it almost caught you off guard. He stared at you silently before his lips finally met yours, and you nearly collapsed into his arms with how ecstatic you were to finally get a taste of him.

The kiss was hungry - full of teeth and breathless groans. You were exploring every inch of each other that you possibly could without tearing each other's clothes off. Sam practically came to life underneath you as his hands roamed up your side. Your name died on his lips - a prayer only you could hear. You thought about pulling back and reminding him that you were in the house of his father, but that would require you to stop kissing him, and you had no intention of stopping any time soon.

When he finally pulled away from, your chests were heaving, and you smiled over at him. He appreciated how gentle your smile seemed now. Even with the dried blood on your skin, there was a warmth in your eye that made your smile fill his chest with joy. A lot less unhinged, he would say.

"So," you pushed his back against the pew and crawled onto his lap, your knees straddling either side of his thighs, "You said we could go anywhere in the world, right?"

"Besides the confessional booth," he retorted with a smile as he caressed the side of your face.

You paused, trying to get used to him looking at you like you were the only woman in the universe. It felt odd but not entirely in a bad way. You spent most of your time denying he could ever look at you this way, and here he was, proving your doubts wrong. You weren't sure if it made you want to cry or kiss him until he caved and pulled you right into the confessional.

He claimed you wouldn't convince him, but you'd get him to crack one day.

"Besides the confessional booth," you laughed. "I spent a lot of time here, pestering you and scaring children in the cemetery. I think it'd be nice to get out of the country, explore the world a little bit."

"You haven't done that already?"

You shook your head. "I spent a lot of time staying close to Nat. She needed a strong right-hand woman, and I was the one who wanted to fill the job. I mean, Maria is great, but she's better at handling souls and all their pesky little contracts."  

"Where do you want to go then? We can go anywhere you want, and we can get there for free thanks to my wings."

"Can I convince you to give the confessional booth a whirl?"

Sam sighed dramatically, not in annoyance but enough to make you laugh. "Absolutely not."

"Fine," you pouted. "I guess we can start with Greece, as long as you agree to wear your orange v-neck again."

[tarithenurse]

Unsolicited

Starring: Avengers Loki x fem!reader, Sam Wilson Contents: Description of sexual harassment/lewd behaviour, hinting at violence and threats, fluff. A/N: Got inspired after a conversation with @maladaptive-ninja-returns​. Enjoy, hon! And nope: I didn’t proof this bc it’s 4:22 in the morning/night and I should be sleep but insomnia/anxiety is a bitch so you’re getting it raw ;)

...  Loki   ...

She groans as she tosses the phone aside with a disgusted wrinkle on her nose. How is that supposed to not make him curious? Naturally, he has no right to grab the phone when she leaves the room about an hour later, but as the God of Mischief...well, she really has brought it upon herself, hasn’t she?

Flicking through the various apps and tabs, he finally finds what must be the cause of her disgust: a message from a contact labelled “Jerk” with an image attached of his sorry excuse for a cock. Nothing in the preceding chat calls for such a picture. From the few lines, Loki surmised that [Y/N] must have exchanged numbers with the person last she was out partying and that she’s since come to regret it – a fact “Jerk” seems intent on ignoring.

“Someone should teach him some manners,” the god muses.

For months (though it feels like more) he’s been adoring [Y/N] from a distance, contending himself with the friendly stage in their relationship the two have found. The idea of pursuing it further, though tempting, seems an impossibility with the sins he’s committed in the past compared to her sweet innocence. Still, he will do everything in his power to make her happy and right now that requires ridding her of a nuisance.

Stuffing the phone in his pocket, he goes in search for the only person he is sure can help him with this particular task.

“Romanova!”

...  Reader   ...

It makes no sense. You’ve looked everywhere but there’s no sign of your phone – not in or under the couch where you’d spent most of the day, not on the coffee table (and you’d even removed every single magazine and checked in every mug left behind by your co-Avengers), pockets are all empty too, and after that you’ve tried every room you’ve been to. The kitchen was meticulously combed to check cabinets, fridge, drawers, even cereal boxes and the trash can...no luck. The bathroom is barren with the exception of the neat row of toiletries on the shelf. Bedroom? Nothing...but at least you ended up changing the sheets finally. Even your purse have been emptied out completely without giving a clue. By the time you stomp back into the living room to start over, it feels like you’re going crazy!

“Wassup?” Sam’s lounging in a chair with his own phone, making you miss your own all that much more.

Ass up and head on the floor to look under the book case, you mumble a reply.

“Wassat?”

“I am,” you groan as you sit on your haunches and dust yourself off, “looking for my fucking phone!”

“Tried calling it?”

You glare at him. “With what? Smoke signals?”

Man, he’s annoying when he grins like that. “You could just ask for help, girl.” His fingers are already flicking across the screen. “Is it on silent?”

“Nah, don’t think so...”

Still on your knees, you scoot over to see him tap your name on his contacts list. How long can it take to connect? It’s Stark tech! There’s a muted tooping from the tiny speakers and a moment later both of you swivel your heads in the direction of tinny sound of Chic’s “Le Freak”.

“I can dig that,” Sam nods approvingly.

You don’t care to answer, instead hurrying down the hall to the source of the music and as you skid around the corner you barely avoid slamming face first into Loki’s chest.

“Oh.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Hey!” Why does he have my phone? It’s right there in his big hand and even if the melody stops just then, there’s no denying it. “That’s mine! Where’d you find it?”

Hesitating a second too long, he hands it back to you with a sheepish shrug. “I took the liberty of borrowing it.”

What?! “Dude...you could have asked first.”

Borrow? Oh he better not have read my chats with Wanda! You’re fairly certain the witchy girl is the only one to know about your huge crush on the raven-haired god and you’d prefer if it stayed that way. For months, she’s been trying to coax you into asking him out and every time you’ve been building up the courage she’s nudged you on with quick snapshots of the man – all taken when he wasn’t aware and most favouring his jawline or ass. Nope, you do not want Loki to find out about any of that.

“I realize...however, when I saw what had aggravated you, I decided to act in your defence immediately.”

“Huh?”

Indignation burns in his eyes. “The aptly labelled Jerk and his heinous indiscretion.”

“The...the dick-pic...”

Loki nods gravely. “I went to Miss Romanova, seeing as she’s particularly adept with Midgardian technology as well as exquisite methods to get people to...cooperate.”

At least now the somberness is gone but it has been replaced by a wicked smile which you aren’t at all certain you want to know the reason for. Sure, you would have liked to strangle the offender, but a moment to calm down had been enough to help you shrug the attempt at an advance off. The jerk isn’t worth spending your energy on.

“Is...is he...alive?” It’s not that you’re worried per se, just slightly concerned if the handsome god is getting into trouble.

“He is, but rest assured that he’s learned his lesson,” Loki smiles, “he will never bother you or anyone else again.”

Something in the air shifts as he speaks. You can’t put your finger on what it is, you just know that it feels like you’re standing on a high cliff above the sea and a slight breeze could push you over the edge. More importantly, it’s a dive you know would be heavenly. To be held in a cool embrace, safe from the thrashing of the waves above as you ride a the currents the same colour as Loki’s eyes. Loki’s eyes. Loki’s oh shit I’m staring! Snapping back to reality, you decide it’s safer to look at your feet as you tug away your phone.

“I’m uhm thank you,” you ramble feeling the heat of embarrassment spread through your body. “Yes. Yes, thank you.”

Wanting to get away, you turn the door handle and hurry inside the room, closing the door behind you. Daymn, that was close. You back slides down the smooth material of the door as you let out a long sigh. Maybe he didn’t notice though.

A knock shakes you from your silent prayer. “[Y/N]? Are you alright?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine! Absolutely!”

“Good.” It doesn’t sound like he leaves, and sure enough: after a moment Loki’s voice comes through the door again: “How come you’ve entered my quarters then?”

“...”

You know right away that there’s no recovering from this as your eyes take in the surroundings sporting green and gold colours paired with dark furniture in a classical yet modern style. Oh, maaaan. Getting to your feet, you shamefully open the door for the actual owner of the room.

“...sorry,” you manage a whisper.

Turning to leave, a cool hand grabs yours to halt you. “You are welcome to stay...in fact...I’d quite like if you did.”

“You would?” I’mdreamingI’mdreamingI’mdreamingI’mdreaming!

It doesn’t feel like a dream when a finger under you chin tilts your face up, though.

“Very much. Perhaps, you’ll allow me to show you the proper art of courting a lady such as you?”

“I’d like that...very much...”

[pilferingapples]

Thinking about your meta about Valjean’s distrust of adult men and how that perspective must have been reinforced by his time in the convent, where there were a total of two males allowed to interact with the women. The reason he leaves is not so Cosette can socialize with the opposite gender (or anyone really,) but just so she can see the world outside the convent walls. (And then they barely leave the house.)

Oh this goes under a cut bc I have SO many feelings about the convent and how it affects JVJ and Cosette

Like, we’re told that Valjean is specifically comparing the suffering of the convicts, including himself, and their attitude, to the suffering of the nuns, and their  attitude:

Before his eyes he had the sublime summit of abnegation, the highest possible pitch of virtue; the innocence which pardons men their faults, and which expiates in their stead; servitude submitted to, torture accepted, punishment claimed by souls which have not sinned, for the sake of sparing it to souls which have fallen; the love of humanity swallowed up in the love of God, but even there preserving its distinct and mediatorial character; sweet and feeble beings possessing the misery of those who are punished and the smile of those who are recompensed.

And he remembered that he had dared to murmur! (Hapgood translation)

Hugo frames this all as more or less “good” for Valjean, something that keeps him from falling to pride-- but given that Valjean rockets around in this same chapter to this: 

Sometimes at eventide, in the twilight, at an hour when the garden was deserted, he could be seen on his knees in the middle of the walk which skirted the chapel, in front of the window through which he had gazed on the night of his arrival, and turned towards the spot where, as he knew, the sister was making reparation, prostrated in prayer. Thus he prayed as he knelt before the sister.

It seemed as though he dared not kneel directly before God.

I feel like it’s pretty obvious that he way overshot “not becoming Too Proud” (and then of course his whole Endgame Self-Immolation like... maybe a Little Pride would actually Not Be Bad here, guy!!) .

The convent is really interesting to me because it’s a necessary safe place, and a calm home for Valjean and Cosette, and in many ways it gives them a place to heal... but at the same time, it is a very rigid society in its own right, and it reinforces some of their most unhelpful trauma-sparked attitudes and behaviors.  In this same chapter (again!), Hugo shows us that Cosette is in fact traumatized by her time with the Thenardiers: 

As we have just observed, nothing trains children to silence like unhappiness. Cosette had suffered so much, that she feared everything, even to speak or to breathe. A single word had so often brought down an avalanche upon her. She had hardly begun to regain her confidence since she had been with Jean Valjean. She speedily became accustomed to the convent. Only she regretted Catherine, but she dared not say so. Once, however, she did say to Jean Valjean: "Father, if I had known, I would have brought her away with me."

She speedily became accustomed to the convent --in the context of her already being afraid to speak, to ask for what she wants or needs, or express her own feelings.  She’s still too scared even to let Valjean  see her upset. 

The convent is safe, the convent is quiet, the convent is probably the only place where Valjean and Cosette could have lived as closely as they do while she gets the level of education she does.  But it’s a safe haven that depends on Valjean’s further isolation and encourages Valjean’s shame over his past. It’s a quiet, calm place that encourages Cosette’s abuse-trained silence and passivity.  These things are not caused  by the convent; they are not the convent’s Fault, exactly.   But the convent years do not help , and these are problems that lead directly to the fatal situation at the end of the novel.

And it’s interesting to me because this really is an incredibly  lucky break for the two of them finding the convent and getting in without too much scrutiny. It’s one of Hugo’s most blatant moments of Providence Arranging Things! 

But he’s also being very realistic about this not Fixing Everything?  The trauma caused by JVJ’s imprisonment is still there, the trauma caused by Cosette’s childhood abuse is still there-- and the very fact that the only safety they can have is in isolation and in secret does them further harm. I don’t know, this really gets me about Valjean and Cosette’s life together! Because it’s good! They’re good for each other! But like most people, they are trying to improvise the best they can , and what they can’t have--societal liberty and acceptance, safety and protection-- does hurt them, even in the safest place they ever live. 

--augh it’s Late and I’m too tired to say some of the rest of the things I want to say here, but: Yeah, nonny!  

[bts-ficrecs]

Any jungkook angst with no smut? Thank you!

yes hello. ‘tis me. Finally responding to you after 31498237 months.

i rarely read full on ANGST because my weak heart cannot take it, ok. So i don’t have a lot to share and most of the fics i read are pretty short. i don’t think any of what i read are series bc omg can u imagine a full on series with NO HAPPINESS!! I WOULD D WORD!!!!!!!1 sjadflakwe but i’ve included some angsty series in the 2nd half of this compilation!

as requested, no smut. i’m sorry if i missed something and it does have smut 🙏 also this ask made me realize how many angsty fics DO have smut involved, lololol we’re all a bunch of emo hornies and tbh,,, i’m not even gonna deny that 😂 ok ok i’ll stop rambling now.

* m/n: mai notes can also be read as “my notes”. ha ha ha wow i’m so punny.

HAVE READ:

⊱ ┄ A Fallen Bookmark on A Thursday Afternoon by @cutaepatootie

 summary: He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

 

⊱ ┄ A Mark of Betrayal by @jimlingss

 summary: Forgotten as the eighth deadly sin; each time one betrays, a mark will be signed on their skin…

 

⊱ ┄ A Piece of the Moonlight by @jimlingss

 summary: For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

 

⊱ ┄ Blue Orchids by @inktae​

 summary: You were eighteen years old when Jimin’s name showed up on your hand.

 m/n: this is like… one of THE og bts fics and i will always promote it bc IT DESERVES TO BE READ BY EVERYONE

 

⊱ ┄ Delirium by @sseudanym

 summary: What to feel, when it’s all gone.

 

⊱ ┄ Give Me Your Hands (I Will Pick the Stars for You) by mindheist (AO3)

 summary: I miss you like the moon misses the sun, destined to chase you until the end of time.

 m/n: this is the only mxm fic here. it’s jungkook x taehyung :) i hope it won’t deter you from reading it though! it’s an absolutely beautiful story.

 

⊱ ┄ In My Head by obiwrites (AO3)

 summary: The one where you and your long time boyfriend aren’t on the same page

 

⊱ ┄ It’s Enough by @dark-muse-iris

 summary: Preparing dinner reminds you of all the struggles you’ve experienced in your marriage. Your husband Jungkook, ever your anchor, tries to cheer you up with gentle words.

 

⊱ ┄ Mamihlapinatapai by @tayegi

 summary: Mamihlapinatapai (noun): a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin.

 

⊱ ┄ My Beauty, My Blood by @7cypher

 summary: With Namjoon out of the picture, Jeongguk has to step up and be the sole successor to the organization laid out before him. However, guilt doesn’t escape him very easily, and neither does your persistence.

  

 ⊱ ┄ Resentment by obiwrites (AO3)

 summary: It was an ugly kind of sad. The kind that kept you up at night, that weighed heavy in your chest and made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, it made you feel like molasses—made your limbs drag and your body ache. You’d heard of the physical effects of depression—but you weren’t expecting this.

 

⊱ ┄ The Train of Lost Souls by @inktae

 summary: The moment you step inside the train, you are given two options. You can choose to live or you can choose to move on. You are dead, but it’s up to you to do something about it. The choice is solely yours.

 m/n: ok so this is technically a Hoseok fic since the reader is interacting with Hoseok, but Jungkook is a part of this fic and IT HURTS ME SO MUCH SO I HAD TO INCLUDE THIS OK

 

⊱ ┄ The Swirling Ways of Stars by @inktae

 summary: Jeon Jungkook doesn’t feel like home.

 

⊱ ┄ Untitled by @floralseokjin

 summary: He noticed you almost instantly. Like the wind blowing autumn leaves past his heels, he felt you near him. His body an instant constant buzzing as he stood inside the kitchen, back against the counter where he watched you outside. The separation of the living area and the balcony window feeling miles away regardless of how close he was to you…how close you were to him…

 

⊱ ┄ We Were by @gukyi

 summary: Not all once upon a time’s have happily ever after’s.

 

⊱ ┄ Water Ripples by @inktae

 summary: It may be a mistake caused by unreachable forces, but it is not a curse, like some may think. Meeting each other, being able to touch each other but being forbidden to stay close beyond the limits of the sea could be considered torture — where is the pleasure in getting a taste of something you cannot have, an ephemeral spark in the night? in getting wings that can’t make you soar, no matter how many times they flutter?

 m/n: i made the mistake of rereading this when i was compiling this list and yes i am crying again. hooo booyyy.

 

 

HAVE NOT READ YET:

⊱ ┄ Below Thunder Showers by @inktae

 summary: Min Yoongi leads Earth with a stern hand and a pair of cold eyes. You lead a withered space station that’s been losing hope for years, mind tired and heart torn. Jeon Jungkook is no more than a broken soldier who’s slowly losing his humanity, but his longing for the rain keeps him tied to the ground. Three paths converge again when the two worlds clash, and as precarious as they were, it does not stop you from falling in love for a second time.

 

⊱ ┄ Blossom by @dimpled-gukkie

 summary: “Blossom, blossom, blossom. As unexperienced as I may be in the field you really didn’t think I’d only bring one weapon did you? It’s no wonder your gang has gone to shit ever since your dad died, it’s clear that you’re incompetent as well as incapable of being a good leader.” He laughs, raising the gun to point at you. You raise your own and he just smiles again before setting his weapon down. “You know what, how about we do this the old fashion way? I heard guns weren’t your specialty anyways.” Shrugging off his coat you spot the long dagger tucked into his waistband. “Cmon sweetheart, show me just how dangerous you are.”

 

⊱ ┄ Contradict by @drowsymochi

 summary: Jungkook is a name you hear often around the crowded city of Seoul, South Korea. Jungkook is the leader of Bangtan, a gang that has acquired a worldwide audience. The gang is stationed in Seoul, creating a feeling of uneasiness on the streets. Everyone in the city has been acquainted with one of the members at some time, being that they’re always around. For the most part, they don’t harm innocent civilians unless they commit a crime that the members find worthy of punishment. That penalty can range from bankruptcy, to torture and eventually death, which makes the city wary of their words and surroundings. If only you had been as terrified as everyone else.

 

⊱ ┄ Downfall by @donewithjeon

 summary: Your hesitation cost you dearly, and you swore never to let it happen again.

 

⊱ ┄ Drown For You by @callistojjk

 summary: There was something in that enormous tank, hidden in the murky water. All you knew was that you weren’t allowed inside the room and that it used to hold something dangerous.

 

⊱ ┄ Drag Me Down to Hell by @kimvtae

 summary: There’s a darkness to your city, a murderous underbelly filled with crime and deceit that you’ve sworn to avoid at all costs. But the universe has funny ways of forcing your involvement in the form of a notorious mob boss and his young daughter.

 

⊱ ┄ Expensive Mistakes by @honeyedhoseok

 summary: Your night spent swindling at the pool table goes left when your lackluster skills are found to be false, so it’s a good thing Jungkook has some supernatural abilities to keep D and his friends from recollecting their money–but his help comes at a price.

 

⊱ ┄ Fierce And Delicate by @mintseesaw

 summary: Jungkook and y/n had been brought in two different worlds. Jungkook living an unfortunate life and y/n being controlled by her parents all her life. Despite the imperfect relationship, they completed each other like a puzzle there is. Jungkook has one promise he intends to keep: to always make you happy. In the process of fulfilling your wish he had once declined you of, he kept a secret from you. And unintentionally, he has done more damages than expected…Every action, and every decision… could be blamed by the flawed past.

 

⊱ ┄ Fallout Technical Report by @pantaemonium

 summary: You knew you should not go into the darkness of night, even if your hope had run thin. The monsters were free to walk the earth, and some of them were still as human as you.

 

⊱ ┄ Fear in Your Eyes by @gukyi

 summary: There’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy. 

 

⊱ ┄ First Light by @inktae

 summary: “Have you ever felt like the world is too loud sometimes?” “No. For me it’s always quiet.”

 

⊱ ┄ Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places by @jungtaeyoongles

 summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there. AKA Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn’t work out according to his plan.

 

⊱ ┄ Gravity by @donewithjeon

 summary: The universe works in mysterious ways. What you didn’t know was that the world would give you the best at such a young age.

  

⊱ ┄ I Got You On My Mind by @bangtanbombimagines

 summary: In a world where soulmates can share thoughts, you never imagined that the sweet voice in your head would belong to a guy like Jungkook.

 

⊱ ┄ Lost Boy by @hoshikimatata

 summary: You are the only girl Jungkook keeps coming back to, and you thought that made you the one to save him. But in the end, he’s the only one who can save himself.

 

⊱ ┄ Let Me Stay Close To You by @9uk

 summary: You were finally free from the worst nightmare of your life in high school. The doors of college welcomed you with open arms, you were set on living your best life in here, away from the toxicity back at home. That shimmer of hope in restoring your life, was somehow effortlessly crushed by a tap on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you say we catch up for a moment?”

  

⊱ ┄ Left Behind by @bbfairy

 summary: Every person is required to go through a series of tests to see if they’re smart enough to be a part of the upper, elite district. You and Jungkook are childhood friends. Jungkook’s dream is to live with you in the elite class, but deep down, you’ve always known that you’ll fail the exams. For ten years, you wrote letters to give him on the day of his expected departure.

 

⊱ ┄ Lie to Me by @hugseoks

 summary: It had seemed so easy for you to move on, did you even care at all?

 

⊱ ┄ Pull Me Down by @starryeyedgukk

 summary: “Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

 

⊱ ┄ Rooftop by @thelillzmonster

 summary: An unrequited love burdens your fragile heart. And when an unfamiliar, isolated boy is thrown into the mix, you’re not sure whether it all turns for the better or worse.

 

⊱ ┄ The Burning Flame by @bangtanfanfiction

 summary: You’re sent as a scout from the Academy into enemy territory, tasked with the mission to make sure their king doesn’t unleash another war on the four nations. During your quest, you get tangled up with a lone rider, as stubborn and hard as the scales of his dragon. 

  

⊱ ┄ The Black Veil by @jungcock

 summary: You never wanted to be a vampire, yet you had been 21 years old for the last 2 centuries. You never wanted a relationship either, yet you incidentally make a very human Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you, twice.

 

⊱ ┄ Waste It On Me by @byeoltoyuki

 summary: Being a journalist, you were familiar with the concept of taking risks and pushing your limits to get the best story. But when a gangster by the name of Jungkook tries to involve himself in your quiet, safe personal life, you are forced to reconsider the limits of your comfort zone, your boundaries, your morals and even your feelings.

 

⊱ ┄ Why I Hate You by @floofyeol

 summary: Jeon Jungkook’s only regret, is knowing her in the first place.

 

⊱ ┄ Watchdog by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife

 summary: Being kidnapped, then ‘accidentally’ eavesdropping on a lot of Intel that was specifically not for outside ears, was definitely not your way of being ‘recruited’ into the mafia world.  Much less end up with a companion who didn’t seem very fond of you, but stuck guarding and watching you.  A Watchdog sort of man he was, and almost entirely too suffocating.

 

⊱ ┄ Written on the Sky by @inktae

 summary: Time is, without a doubt, merciless.

 

⊱ ┄ What Happened by @bangtanfanfiction

 summary: You and Jungkook’s relationship was on the tip of the edge. Is there any possibility to get it back up?

[tintinwrites]

the fallen soul | Poe Dameron x Reader | Part One

A/N: Is this incredibly sinful? I hope y’all like it anyway YA SINNNERS. I did research for this fic and I hope the confession is legit? I suppose it doesn’t matter too much simply bc Poe is half-BSing his way through it bc he don’t care!!

Rating: T but this WILL turn to M.

Warning: Religion. Confession. Men are trash except for Father Poe Dameron himself. Sexual themes.

Word count: 2,171, apparently!!

Summary: You’re a young, aristocratic woman in the early 19th century, destined for a life of empty marriage to an adulterous, uncaring man and multiple children that you won’t even get to raise. Your inappropriate thoughts of wanting more than is expected of you from imperfect people leads you to confession where you unknowingly meet the young, new priest, Father Dameron.

GIF credit: I thought I had this in my likes but I didn’t but it’s not mine and if anyone knows whose it is let me know!!

Tags: Open if anyone’s interested!

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

You looked around the ballroom with disinterest, watching primped up men kissing the hands of primped up ladies as if they actually paid them any respect, and you wondered which one was going to glide over to you with sugar in his mouth and greed in his eyes.

All you were to them was a dowry and a body to birth multiple children until you bore him a son.

Not even a bed warmer to them, since they would take mistresses in the day on a mattress you would sleep on in the night.

It was a pity; some of them were quite handsome and perhaps there was this foolish spark inside of you that wished to be the mistress of a man who showered you with jewels, but your parents would never allow it.

No, you were destined to be a wife and a mother, bored out of your mind as your husband had other women and your children were raised by other women.

Sometimes you would get into your own head a bit, falling into a silly fantasy of being in the arms of a man who was passionate about you, whose handsome face would gaze down at you, then disappear between your—

Then you would swiftly reprimand yourself for not only going against the purpose that was correct for you, but for thinking of things you had no business even having an inkling of an idea about.

Perhaps no suitor had intrigued you because your thoughts were too sinful, because you were too busy thinking about wrong things to appreciate what was meant for you.

Your parents would pester you with his father is the owner of the local dressmaker’s shop or he’s acquired a large plot of land with the intention of a large family and you would hum as if you were listening, but you never were.

Was it a sin to want passion? Adventure? Something that stirred the barest hint of desire in your otherwise bored disposition?

You supposed it was, otherwise no one would hide it.

Suitors would not act demure when they had taken many women before their wedding night, and those women would not act pure to new men when they had been bedded by the one to their right, and fathers would not lie about how they made their money, and mothers would not put arsenic in their vicious husbands’ tea.

You knew the fabrication that was needed to make the upper class seem better than the lower, yet you still felt guilty for your own thoughts of wanting more.

They all took what they wanted and hid it beneath expensive clothing and charming words.

Why couldn’t you do the same? Why did you merely do as you were told and continually berate yourself for letting your thoughts stray to something you enjoyed more?

Perhaps you were smarter than them and knew it was wrong to do these things even if you kept them hidden away.

When a fair-skinned man with light hair and beautiful yet untrustworthy eyes bowed to you and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and all you could think of was how he had been with a woman you knew dearly, you felt dirty.

Like you knew, and felt, and thought, and wanted too much.

It seemed like there were too many people in the large room now, like they could hear your thoughts screaming in your head louder than their own.

You stuttered a few words about retiring for the night or you hoped you did as you turned and ran from the room.

The darkened hallway offered you solace, the music slightly muffled and no people watching you like they wanted to devour your very soul until there was nothing left of yourself.

Shouldn’t you want to be married? You would be with a man who would provide for you, to keep a roof over your head instead of your father, and your thoughts kept bouncing back and forth between disgust at your desires and comfort in them.

Perhaps you needed to tell someone about it.

Certainly not any of those men or women or your family, but someone who would tell you what to do without judgement; it was likely you only needed to get these thoughts out of your head to realize how ridiculous you were being and then you would be in your right mind.

You would not lie to society like you were pure when you were not. You would be the very model of a modern wife in honesty, not only in appearance.

And you would smile as your...husband fucked anyone but you when it wasn’t time to conceive a child.

You needed to say all of this out loud and you prayed to God it would fix your damaged mind.

God.

That was it.

Dashing to the grand entrance of your father’s manor with your dark blue skirt gripped in your fingertips though the hem did not entirely reach the floor, you grabbed your cloak and fastened it around your neck securely.

Some servants might have questioned you, worried of your parents’ reactions if it was discovered you had left home in the middle of a ball where you were supposed to meet a suitable husband, but you ignored them and stumbled determinedly out into the night.

You weren’t supposed to walk alone at night — no women actually were. You were scarcely allowed to walk in the day unless you had a reputable chaperone.

But you did not fear getting in too much trouble or meeting a stranger that was less than acceptable, since it was late and most everyone was inside your home.

Maybe you were a touch fearful as you walked from your father’s land and down the road, and you realized the farther you walked how close the church was to the poorer part of town.

They were people too, you reminded yourself quickly. They had children like your people, dreams like your people.

Drugs and alcohol like your people, prostitutes like your people.

No different from you and yet scarier simply because their houses were smaller, their clothes not made of fine silk?

You clutched your cloak tighter more from the chill of a spring evening’s wind than your baseless fear, seeing the church slightly up ahead and hoping they had lit some sort of fire despite the warm day it had been.

The door was made of oak that was almost too heavy for arms that did little more than embroider, but you managed to pull one open and slip inside.

It was warmer inside; you stopped for a moment to let the warmth smooth the goosebumps that had risen on your skin, then you carefully lowered your cloak and looked around the room.

You were not used to coming here alone or seeing this place empty, but the bare pews seemed to put you a bit at ease as you walked further inside.

But the confessional to your right made you nervous again, wondering if you really should be confessing these things, imagining that if there even was a priest inside at this time, he might tell your parents who expected you to be pure despite their own sins.

These thoughts had been plaguing you, however, and you wanted them to stop.

You wanted to be satisfied with the life that you were meant to live, and you were sure that pouring your thoughts into the air would lift them from your mind.

Perhaps if you had known the priest a bit better, it might have been easier as you stepped into the booth, but you only came here on holidays and heard gossip that the aging man had begun training someone to take his position.

You did the sign of the Cross over yourself with some uncertainty, having to admit that you were a bit rusty since religion was something that was more talked about than practiced. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was...I...I suppose my first confession tonight is that I don’t quite remember my last.”

Was that a soft chuckle you heard from the opposite booth?

No, you reasoned, priests did not laugh.

“I have come today because I...my thoughts are simply…you see, I cannot get out of my head and...and it’s such a…” You dropped your head in your hands, unsure of how to properly get your thoughts out with how used you had grown to keeping them in.

“Relax, child. Tell me what is on your heart.” The voice was young and smooth, and sounded like he was reading from a book with how flat it was, but you were too intrigued by its other qualities as you lifted your head.

“Yes. Of course. I am descended from noble blood and my destiny is to marry a man of similar status and bear his children. Yet...I...don’t necessarily wish to. I keep finding my thoughts wandering to...to more. Sometimes I do not even know what more entails, simply that it’s something I desire. Often I do think...of having sexual intercourse. Of...of running barefoot through a field and swimming in a lake without a stitch on.” You loved it all so much that you giggled beyond your shame, falling silent as you weren’t sure what else there was to confess.

“And?” He cleared his throat.

“I believe that’s everything.” You furrowed your brow, not sure you could say much more other than your forbidden desires.

“You’ve forgotten something, child.” Now you were sure he was laughing.

You thought for a moment then your eyes widened in a display that could have almost seemed comical. “This is all I can remember! I am sorry for these and all my sins!”

It was said so quickly that your words were hardly intelligible, but the priest hummed in acknowledgement and amusement.

“What do you think my penance for this should be, Father?”

“Have you acted on any of these thoughts?”

You quickly shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course not!”

“Then you haven’t, really, committed any sin.”

“Father, please, I truly feel that I should be punished for having these thoughts.”

“Very well. Uh...let me see...when you kneel by your bed to pray tonight, I want you to do five Hail Marys.”

“Yes, Father.”

It wasn’t the harshest punishment you’d heard of, but it was going to encourage you to actually pray before bed that night and perhaps that would help with your thoughts.

You were curious about this priest, with his charming voice and the monotone way he went about conducting this confession.

Not that you had met many priests who were all that lively, this man seemed like he was hardly even paying attention to his duties.

However, you were correct in your belief that talking about your thoughts would make them go away, and you closed your eyes in preparation for your prayer asking the Lord for forgiveness.

Your prayer discussing your regret for your sinful thoughts and a promise to do your best not to sin anymore was followed by the priest praying to absolve you of these sins — still sounding like he was reading it in a book right then and there — and you smiled softly, doing the sign of the Cross again. “Amen.”

The priest stuttered a few times and then seemed to formulate what he wanted to say, “You have a good soul to beg for penance over something so trivial. Now thank God for this good confession, and, hm...peace be with you.”

“Thank you, my Lord. And thank you, Father.” Perhaps he listened to many confessions that day and had grown tired of saying the same thing, and you were happy for the help from him either way.

“Go now and...sin no more?” He seemed to chuckle at himself.

You stood and stepped out of the booth, finding yourself charmed by the empty church now as you walked to the door.

Father Dameron waited a moment to keep your privacy hidden before he stepped out of his booth, seeing a glimpse of a dark blue skirt slipping out the heavy, wooden doors and into the night.

Were you all by yourself this late at night or had someone been waiting for you to finish and walk you home?

He hated that he had to worry about you simply because you were a woman, but he knew the sins men confessed in the little time he’d been the head of this church.

Men would confess to taking prostitutes despite having wives at home, then come back the next week to beat their breasts all over again as if they actually cared.

Such a pretty voice with barely a sin to confess was a breath of fresh air for once, and he hoped you didn’t punish yourself too much for thoughts that any normal, interesting human being — including himself — had.

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

~"Do the flowers remind you of someone, sir? You always seem to look at them when you're troubled." The maid couldn't be certain but perhaps their king---a solemn man for as long as she'd been under his employ---seemed quite happy looking at the careful arrangement within the garden, if not peacefully contemplative and why not think of nicer times? (for Lord Zidane in your Throne of Thorns verse bc I know you mentioned missing it earlier today uwu)

((I fucking love you??? Thank you.))

The storm---although viciously rattling the world just outside the castle walls---seemed unable to touch the place where the Lord stood with his head slightly lowered and his hands laced behind his back. The roses; with their ORANGE and WHITE blooms and dark winding leaves seem to bend towards him. As if they're shielding him from the elements that his silent will couldn’t dissuade.

Eyes the color of slate but still mixed with an unforgivably charming shade of blue if one looked too close rose and settled upon the flowers nearest him, the soft swathes of living color drawing his graze with an almost irresistible force. The maid’s words rang true, perhaps even more than she fully realized, although she hadn’t been employed when the person who the garden was crafted around intended for had been present in the castle proper.

Ahh...but in such a place; in a garden that lay peaceful in any storm, wasn’t she present in spirit? As if the spirit of her could compare. As if this garden---lovingly crafted thought it was---could compare to anything that comprised the HEART and SOUL of such a woman. The colors of the roses---so resplendent of the hues she had so proudly displayed, the softness of the petals a mimicry of her cheeks, her lips settled in the curve of a smile, the hearts of the roses cradling the memory of a an oft clung to melodious hum....

It wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

And yet....

A long exhale from deep within his chest disturbed the stillness momentarily as he allows his eyes to slip closed; the colors of the flowers burned into the inside of his eyelids, their colors following him into his self imposed darkness like stars, like sunspots.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret it, not even for a moment. Though his heart ached for her to be present among the flowers all around him now, though his ear strained constantly to hear her voice---her real voice---singing the song that no passing bird nor wind swept bloom could replicate, he couldn't regret it. He refused to regret it. The Lord---felled and then revived once more by the love of a simple maid meant for far greater things in a much wider world----had given her the strength to fly from him and it wouldn’t be fair of him to cut her wings now. To do so would be a sin punishable by only the cruelest death. To do so would lay waste the emotions she had set free from within him.

No matter how desperately he wished to share them with her now---those emotions, this place, anything he could think of and everything he missed the first time---he wouldn’t regret it. It was her decision---and hers alone---and he would respect it.

“That’s true, although the LITTLE BIRD in question has flown far away from here, freed long before you arrived.” That’s where birds belonged, after all. Their garden was the sky itself and no earthy garden could ever hope to compare. And yet in spite of this knowledge hope is exactly what he does.

Standing there surrounded by a veritable sea of countless stars and miniature suns the Lord hopes with all his might as an oft longed for song rises to his lips and he begins to hum along to the spirit inhabiting the flowers.

Maybe someday....

[shizekarnstein]

Zeke is determinated to save his brother from the shackles of Grisha's poisonous influence. If Eren is refusing to go along with their dream the only reason is more than obvious: their wretched father has brainwashed him and only Zeke himself is able to free him of that burden. Only once he manages to undo the damage will the two of them stand together as brothers and put an end, once and for all, to the cursed fate of the eldian people.

Xaver stoods in his mind as Zeke's personal saviour. From his pov he was his real father: a father who listened and played with him, an adult with whom he felt safe and comfortable. The person who finally opened his eyes to the monstruos nature of his birth parents characters, and encouraged him to turned them over to the marlean authorities instead of joining them in utopia.

Zeke has never questioned his mentor's motives or the type of person he was. He only saw one side of him: the loving man who had his best interest in mind. To this day he never pondered over the fact that this very man basically turned him into the executioner of his own parents and how terrible is to put that burden on a child. How cruel and manipulative is to tell a seven years old that his own parents never loved him.

Claiming that Grisha has brainwashed and mistreat Eren as he did with Zeke himself all those years ago, refusing to even consider the possibility that he could have been a better parent to Eren, and not even listening to Eren's thoughts on the matter, he goes ahead and brings their foreheads together. To show his brother the truth.

But forcing your ideals and pov into another person is no different from what both his parents and Xaver did to him. So I have to ask: by using the FT powers to force his own convictions onto Eren, at the end, is he really that different from those he claims to loathe? Who is really trying to brainwash Eren at this point?

The brothers enter Grisha's memories and witness how this man interacted and raised his younger son.

This quest objetive is to reveal the true face of Grisha and all his wrongdoings. But along the way I can't help but wonder if what Zeke was really looking for, on an unconciouss level, was seeing their father again. Zeke was conditionated and encouraged by Xaver to hate and despise his father, but little Zeke loved him more than anything. He tried to put up with all the things he and Dina asked of him. Even when he thought those things were wrong and put him in danger, he did soldier on. What really brought him to a breaking point was not only his parents neglect, but the possiblity of all of them together being shipped off to paradise. For someone who to this day is still craving affection as a starved animal, I have no doubts that even if he convinced himself of hating him, a part of him is still that little boy who adored him. In order to move forward he had to believe his father was a monster.

When confronted with the reality that Grisha really seemed to care for his new wife and son, his bitterness and denial are palpable. He's jelous bc some part of him still wished he could have had something like that. Eren himself is going along this painful trip down memory lane, having to endure witnessing all those dear and simpler days with a deep sense of longing.

But no matter how hard he searchs, nothing seems to match Zeke's expectations. He's desesperatly trying to find the instances when Grisha acted as a selfish man who puts his own ideals ahead of the safety of his family. The months pass and all he can find are wholesome family moments. They get to see how Eren was clearly loved and doted upon, how his father spent countless hours playing with him, taking him on walks, witnessing his very first steps. The tranquil family dinners where no talk of politics or revolution ever graced the table.

Even then Zeke keeps searching for the devious facet that he knows must exit. Grisha infiltrated the walls to locate the FT and restaure the Eldian Empire. His new family is an accessory, just like his previous one.

Eren himself is done with this futile quest. Unlike Zeke, he knows the two sides of the story. He knows his father's faults, even believed for a time the worst of him when Rod Reiss triggered the memories of the chapel massacre. He has come to terms with the fact his father was a flawed man who payed dearly for his dreams and came to repent and love his new family in all the ways he couldn't with his former one. Eren knows all about his guilt, about his sins and regrets. About how much he cherished him and his mother, and how he never forgot about Dina and Zeke.

But what good does it do to argue with someone who's utterly convinced of his own truth? Trying to force his biased version on Eren is nonsense and Eren is very aware of this fact. Of course father is a demon, isn't that what you want to hear? We can move on and euthanize our own people next now that I know your true Zeke. What an evil man! Forcing your vission onto others without giving a damn about their own side of the story or experiences is such a wonderful and foolproof plan. Can't you see how the brainwashing is coming undone thanks to you showing me all these things? It's useless to try to talk with someone who doesn't listen.

But then both Eren and Zeke learned that they didn't even knew all there was to know about Grisha and how far he had evolved from his younger self.

He gave up on his old dream. He learned from his faults. When faced with the choice between his mission and his loved ones, this time he made the right choice. He was able to cast away his old self and previous mistakes and return to his family, finally deciding what was really more precious to him and clinging to this choice.

Humans change and grow. But without taking the time to sit down and listen to other people we are unable to trully grasp who they really are as persons. We allow our own missconceptions and prejudices to blind us to the facts. What Zeke is experiencing now is a total subversion of what he was convinced was an absolute fact. But in order to allow himself to consider this possiblity, he had to witness it with his own eyes. Ignorance itself is a formidable enemy after all. That is the brothers motto, but the only one living by those words was Eren.

All the doubts Zeke still harboured and his last sanity rope was the utter conviction that his father never loved him. Mister Xaver told him so. It has to be true. Even if he changed in regards to his other son, Grisha never cared for Zeke. He was nothing more to him than a tool, a royal blood vessel that would help him to make his dream come true. Grisha found happiness with his new family, merrily forgetting all about his past one and the hell he put them through. Listening to Grisha utter "I'm sorry, Zeke" has began to utterly shatter this view.

While Zeke was blabbing, Eren noted how his father still gazed and kept close his only memento of Dina and Zeke. He never forgot about them. How could he?

Kruger himself said that anyone can become a god or a devil, all it takes is for someone to believe in it. For Zeke and Rod Reiss Grisha Jaeger was a monster who gladly crushed children and anything that stood on his way. Marley and Willy Tybur convinced the whole world that Eren Jaeger is a demon hellbent on destroying everything in his path. We as readers were convinced that the Beast Titan was a devil who utterly lacked even an ounce of human compassion. Xaver appears to Zeke as a wonderful person; we as readers know better than to believe such a thing of someone who installed the idea in a child that his parents hated him and forced him to tarnish his hands with their blood. Just going by the flashes we saw this chapter about Grisha, an uninformed party would conclude that he was a good man with not a single fault to his name. To trully grasp others we need to get rid of our bias and missconceptions and learn to actually listen and see for ourselves what's true and what isn't. That has always been a theme in SnK. Zeke's journey isn't different.

Now both brothers experienced radically differnet sides of Grisha. Just bc he came to regret his previous actions and worked to better himself as a man, spouse and father doesn't mean all is forgiven. Zeke has the right to still resent him and the way he treated him. But he can only make that choice freely once he knows for certain all there is to his father's story. And the journey has only started.

I find intriguing how at the beginning it was Zeke who command the pace of their journey and kept selecting to continue. Now that his convictions have been shaken, and not Eren's, is Eren himself who seems to be in charge of the itinerary.

If inside paths realm the stronger mental will is the one who prevails, then the outcome of this little journey is very much on Eren's favour.

What's Zeke going to do? It's there a way to make him give up on his dream too? Or is he still fully convinced of the true of Xaver words? Memories of the previous shifter have a degree of influence on the current one. If Zeke can say with security that Eren was being controlled by their father, then how deep is the real hold of Xaver in all of this? Is this really only Zeke's dream? Xaver shared this dream with him when he still lived, and the two of them agreed to make it a reality. Even now he remains a dear person and highly respectable in Zeke's mind and heart. At the end I don't think it trully matters if his hold on Zeke is being reinforced by his memories living in him. The only one who can decide what to do is Zeke. Time may be infinite inside paths realm, but even so the clock is still ticking.

This chapter was monumental and has so many things to comment upon. I plan to do another post pondering over something I've been wondering for a long time: can shifters actually sense when someone down the line is witnessing/reviving some of their memories? Going by Frieda and Grisha this chapter, my tentative answer is yes. Hint: Grisha sees Zeke in front of him, but there was someone else behind Grisha who had the same view as him, and that someone would later be the vessel that holds all of Grisha's memories.

[longassr1de]

Best Boy (M)

Pairing: Haechan x fem!reader

Genre: Smut (nc-17!)

Word count: 2,666

Warnings: femdom, spanking, not quite choking but close to it (just once really), oral, a sappy moment, lots of teasing, unprotected sex, cowgirl..kinda, i'm probably forgetting stuff i'm sorry 😔 (i just really wanted to write something and then this drabble practice turned into a monster) oh and also i didn't proofread this yet & yolo wrote it at around 3am so im sorry for this monstrosityㅡ and also y/n is on birth control bc at least take precautions if you're not wrapping it before tapping it kiddos! 🤧

A/N: not to spoil the surprise but technically though it's not stated who it's about until around.. the middle i'd say? but.. it kind of is about a 00 liner so.. if you're uncomfortable with that then please just keep scrolling. thank you. i'm not sure how or why this post happened either but.. here we are yknow? that lil shiet has just been bugging me for awhile now and then a week later this happens im...🥺

A/N ...again: I ended up changing it from mystery member to just being straightforward about it so just.. bear with me until I redo the intro to include more detail. Sorry about that 😰

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"I thought you said you could take it, baby boy?" You look down at your boyfriend who was currently across your lap with a teasing grin, clearly enjoying his predicament.

"I- I-" he tries to interject, helplessly wracking his brain for any sort of rebuttal.

"Did I say you could speak?" The sharp raise of your now arched brow conveys more than your short sentence could have ever delivered. Consequently, you deliver another sharp smack to his bottom, continuing his punishment, which had been brought about by yet another one of his disobedient days. Such a brat, really.

"N-No..." you gently enclose your free hand around his neck, ushering his disobedient behavior back on track once again. "No ma'am!" he whines, cute pout on display as he whines desperately. "I'll be a good boy for you, I swear! Please!"

"Please what, baby boy? Use your words for me," you cooed towards him, almost mockingly.

"Please..." he licks at his bottom lip, jutting his glossing pout on proud display, "please fuck me... use me... anything..." He rasps as you pull him up by the hair to look at you in the eyes, a shaky breath escaping from the depths of his soul as you devour his ethereal presence. How did you ever find someone so beautiful in this realm of reality?

Sending one last spank to his supple bottom, you relish in the way his body both moves towards and away from your palm. "Very well then, my beautiful little brat. On your knees." You've been edging the poor boy for at least an hour now, so really, it's no wonder that he's in position for you before you can even begin counting. "If you behave like a good boy tonight, I might even reward you," your smile angelic, though your eyes are anything but. Deviously, you trace his raging hard-on with the tip of your toes, enjoying the way he shuts his eyes and drops his mouth open at the slimmest glimmer of pleasure he's been allowed. "But if you misbehave again, you're not coming for the next week. Understood?"

"Y-Yes ma'am!" he responds, almost in tears at the thought alone, much less after the arduous teasing he's endured tonight. Before anything, you lean down to kiss his supple lips, licking at his mouth with everything you've got, tangling your fingers in the curly tufts of his beautiful silver hair. Pulling away far too soon for either of your liking, you run your thumbs across his jawline and break from your role to ensure safety above all pleasure.

"Safeword?"

"Cloud." A smirk sent his way as he snaps from his daze. "..ma'am! It's still cloud...ma'am," he stutters out, in fear of further punishment.

"Good boy," you reward his quick fix with a kiss to his forehead before reaching behind you for a ribbon, toying with it as you fixate on whether to tie his hands in front of or behind his body tonight. "Heads or tails, baby boy?"

"Uh.." he tilts his head, not unlike a confused puppy. "Heads, ma'am?" an unsure answer rings out in the silence of your eventful night. You nod silently, working to gently but securely tie his hands in front of his body, just enough so that he can't give himself any pleasure.

Your boyfriend eyes you with a sparkle in his eyes, in awe at how effortlessly you complete the task. Truthfully however, the gleam in his doe eyes was moreso because of just how much he loves you, and how grateful he is for how attentive you are to his needs. You were the one who'd asked to let you dom him initially, but from then on it was him who would insist on it becoming more of a regular thing. He simply couldn't get enough of the confidence you exuded in times like these.

You were his drug, and he needed his fix, so what better way that to get his high through this?

Sensing that his mind had drifted elsewhere as he'd stopped squirming and whining, you look back up into his eyes, not expecting your boyfriend to be staring at you so.. lovingly.

"Penny for your thoughts, baby boy?"

"I love you," he just blurts out, chuckling at himself for a moment before you join him.

"Not sure where this is coming from, but I love you too, darling." Another kiss pressed unto his lips, kissing his smile until it parted to kiss you back. The warmth in your chest despite the filth in your recent actions proof enough that you made the right choice. You don't regret one moment from the moment you fell for your best friend, up until this very night. However, the ache between your thighs had yet to be sated, and as much as you wanted to cave, you figured it could wait until the aftercare (noting to give him twice as many cuddles tonight).

Pulling back with a thin line of spit till connecting you both, your grin turns mischievous once again. "But don't think I've forgotten for a second that you're being punished for your behavior tonight. You thought feeling me up at the restaurant was appropriate? In front of all your friends?"

"N-No ma'am! Not at all.. I'm sorry!" his eyes widen at the realization that his punishment was far from over. "I won't do it again!"

"Not sorry enough, I'll say. And if you ever try that again, I'm tying you to the headboard the entire weekend, understood?" Your boyfriend was so desperate he fell for your bluff, instantly straightening his posture to be the epitome of a "good boy".

"I'll do anything, anything at all.. please ma'am, anything but that!" he begs, hoping to get back on your good side, unknowing that your anger had long since subsided.

"Kiss me and make it all better then, baby boy. Apologize like you mean it," your sultry whisper utter sin upon his ears, sitting entirely undressed just inches away from his body that was screaming with desire. You slowly spread your thighs that had been rubbing up against each other, your slick wetness glistening as his throat feels parched at the sight before him. He blinks himself out of yet another daze, unbelieving that the wondrous angel in front of him is also the devil seducing him to ruin. As he gets closer to your heat, his pants become evident on your skin, making goosebumps arise in their wake.

"Don't tease me, baby, it'll only drag our your punishment," you tease, already locking your digits in his hair once again, anticipating the first touch of his tongue. He looks up at you as he makes contact with your nub, watching as your throw you head back, feeling as you grip his hair a little tighter, pull him a little closer. Humming contentedly, he dives right in to work, licking up your folds and sucking harshly at your clit, internally cursing at his useless arms at such a critical time like this. Instead, he decidedly works at your body with his mouth, working such wonders you were sure the other seven in the world suddenly paled in comparison.

"Ah, yes, just like that! Fuck," you cursed under your breath, raggedly breathing out as you bite at your lip, trying and failing to hold your moans in. Instead, you tighten your thighs around his head, fighting to keep your eyes open, only daring to look after he pulls back to catch his own breath, meeting his dangerous gaze with your shocked one.

Somewhere in the mix, you'd forgotten all about maintaining your strict dominance, instead unknowingly giving him some room to wiggle at the reigns, ever the challenging brat that he was and loved to be. He lived for making you make him submit, for every punishment and for every battle. It was so much fun, watching you get all hot in the face, in more ways than one.

"With all due respect ma'am," he shoots you his signature shit-eating grin from down below, clearly worked up by your reactions, even without the use of his hands, "your moans are absolutely gorgeous." He then sucks at your thighs, leaving many a dark bloom in their wake; he's clearly trying to prove a point now, cheeky almost to the point of cocky in the way he licks at your wetness off his lips. "I may even dare to say you're in for the fuck of your life tonight."

And you're just about to give him hell for his sudden brattiness until he goes right back to work, eating you out like a man starved, leaving you unable to come up with anything more coherent than a mutter of "Oh fuck you, Lee Donghyuck!" To which he simply laughs into your folds, sliding his tongue into your wet heat as you miserably yank at his hair, hoping he would somehow go back to behaving (used lightly, as he never truly behaves, save for when his neediness or the stresses of life sent him into subspace).

An intense orgasm builds up in your core and before you can even warn him, your release hits like a ton of bricks, bringing Donghyuck both closer and farther from your body, relishing in your orgasm yet unsure whether the excess of stimulation was something you could currently handle. You had fallen back onto the bed, unmoving for some time it would seem, as you soon hear the shuffling of feet before feeling a shift on the mattress. As best as he can, your boyfriend rests between your legs, attempting to assess your wellbeing.

"I'm fine, Hyuckie, just... that took a hell of a lot out of me," you chuckle, closing your eyes again to avoid the knowing look on his face. He goes to reach for your face, only to realize he can't, as his hands are still bound. Drawing your attention with a soft whine, you follow his gaze, helping to untie him, pressing loving kissed tenderly at his wrists. "Thank you, baby, you did so well for me."

"Can you take one more?" he prods gently, dying to be inside of you, yet not wanting to push your body past its limits.

"Of course, anything for you baby boy. Youu dessrve the bsst orgsmm after that," your words slur a little, still not over the impact on your body. Donghyuck tries to protest as you lay him down and climb over him, hissing as you sit on his length with little to no prep, taking him entirely by surpise. Not that he minded, he was just terrified he wouldn't last long after a night's worth of teasing, on top of getting front row seats to your hell of a release. Little to his knowledge however, that was exactly what you were counting on, ever since your orgasm took so much out of you that you'd begun to feel rather sleepy.

"I give you full permission baby boy. Fuck me." Your statement once again catches him off guard, as he had been a little preoccupied with how tight your velvet walls felt around his weeping cock.

"W-wait wha- aaahh.." And then it clicks. You weren't planning on riding him at all, you simply wanted the illusion of power from being on top, leaving him to do all the work. Donghyuck was no fool, however, and took the opportunity as quickly as he it came. You'd just barely settled against his chest, relishing in the warm feeling of his hands running down your back before feeling him grab at your ass; shutting his eyes as his head was thrown back in pleasure, fucking up into you almost animalistically from sheer need. He felt your blunt nails almost breaking the skin of his shoulders as he bit down on one of your own, pressing kisses in the aftermath of its mark, whimpering the filthiest of curses and singing the sweetest of praises by your ear.

As Donghyuck fervently fought to reach his own release, you felt yourself begin to race him towards your second. So much for punishment, was all you could think, and though the exhaustion on your body was evident, you simply couldn't bring yourself to complain, not when he was making you feel so fucking good.

"I'm so close, I'm gon... I'm.... ahh," he whined, rutting his hips desperately into your own, "please let me cum ma'am... I've been such a good boy for you... please." Surprised didn't even begin to cover your reaction, as you'd assumed all roles had been thrown out the window the second he'd gotten the green light. Nevertheless, your brain was humming with pride as your body thrummed with pleasure.

"Yes you have, you've been so good tonight, I think you deserve to cum. Let go now, give it to me baby boy," you run your hands through his hair, speaking into his forehead as your lower body continues to bounce from the force of his own humping up into you. "Prove that you're all mine," you mouth at his earlobe, moaning into it just to tease him, "fill me up." The final straw snaps upon your words, Donghyuck babbling utter nonsense as he cums, thick, white spurts of his release coating your walls as you finally clench around him, the feeling of his orgasm launching the onset of your own.

He continues to shallowly thrust up into you until neither one of you can take it anymore, squirming and groaning weakly at the overstimulation. You witness the strength leave your boyfriend's body rather dramatically, the way his eyes comically roll back in his head as your bodies slide down the headboard cause a fit of giggles to escape you. Donghyuck half opens his eyes to look at you, making grabby hands for your face as he grows soft inside you now. Carefully, you raise yourself up his body just enough to raise your cheeks in his sweaty palms, enjoying the gentle caress of his calloused fingertips padding across your features.

With a serious of hushed thank yous, he leans forward just enough to shower you with kisses, prompting you to return the gesture. He slips out of you and you make a face as the mixture of your cum slides down your thighs. Thankfully, you'd forseen your laziness and left a towel on your nightstand, and you reach over for it to clean the both of you up. Donghyuck is currently slipping in and out of sleep when you lay beside him, pulling him onto your chest as his arms wrap around your frame. It's times like this when he's asleep, so pure and unadulterated, that you can't help but adore his natural cuteness.

The supple curve of his lips, the gentle curl of his lashes, even his soft groan as he shifts to find a more comfortable position... all of it has you cooing at how delicate he was despite how tough he loves to pretend to be. If only his friends knew just how big of a baby he was around you, you wonder, how interesting would that conversation be.

Deciding to risk it, you simply can't help but place one last kiss to his forehead, softly rubbing at the base of his neck as he stirs, and you go still. Donghyuck simply buries his face into your neck now, pressing even more of his weight into your own, but all you can bring yourself to do is wrap your own around him, rubbing at his back soothingly. "Good night my beautiful boy, you did so well," his sleepy grin tickles the skin near the junction of your shoulder as he mumbles an unintelligible response, and just like that, he's asleep again in no time as you hum softly in reply.

Donghyuck may not always be the best boy, and me may not even a good boy most nights, but he'll always be your favorite boy, and in the end... that's all that really ever mattered.