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saetoru · 1 year

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good.

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left.

and then satoru wins.

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead.

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure.

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware.

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place.

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it.

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free.

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair.

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared.

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on.

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close.

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper.

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?”

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for.

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore.

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down.

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were.

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself.

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever.

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why.

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought.

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare.

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature.

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again.

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face.

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high.

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath.

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause.

and then you remember.

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru.

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have.

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again.

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh.

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself.

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close.

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness.

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night.

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans.

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest.

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room.

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry.

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly.

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not.

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen.

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast.

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between.

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace.

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile.

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart.

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name.

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles.

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away.

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment.

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years.

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do.

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you.

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru.

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had.

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him.

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind.

his breath hitches.

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror.

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms.

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened.

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him.

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance.

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to.

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention.

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence.

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them.

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them.

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to.

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down.

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it.

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself.

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life.

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in.

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you.

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin.

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for.

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you?

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it.

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life?

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him.

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal.

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score.

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous.

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort.

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good.

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off.

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think.

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles.

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it.

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug.

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed.

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place.

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look.

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch.

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes.

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this.

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room.

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook.

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again.

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind.

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks.

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left.

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good.

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence.

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away.

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow.

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation.

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too.

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes.

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too.

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?”

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever.

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive.

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy.

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru.

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little.

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled.

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises.

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough.

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink.

finally, for once, you’re enough.

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering.

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much.

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum.

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#teepods.writings #fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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allurilove · 1 month

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Yandere Manager x singer you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere male manager x gender neutral singer reader, he’s secretly pining after you, your own little stalker, forbidden romance ig, male masturbation, takes pics of you sleeping, non con touching.

You met your yandere manager at the bar. You had been a part of a small band that never really made it big, but you always had shone brighter than the rest. You were magnetic, already having that star potential, and happened to sit right next to the man who worked for one of the best record companies. He just got off work, his sleeves pushed up above his elbow, and his glasses folded neatly next to him. He never really liked to drink, he was a different person when he did, but today was a special occasion. You were here. He already knew who you were, and he used a second low-key instagram account to see your stuff. He glanced at you. Your get-up was cute. He assumed that you came back from a concert or party, as there was a bit of confetti in your hair. You wore minimal and possibly sweat-proof makeup, and your eyes were striking with the black eyeliner.

Your manager sort of fell for you the first time he met you. It wasn’t easy to catch his attention, but you managed to do it. He had slid you his business card, paid for the rest of your drinks, and put on his best speech to convince you to sign with him. You became a solo artist in the blink of an eye, your singles and albums making it to the top forty, and you had the fame you wanted for so long. It just came with the price of having a stalker. As a manager, he had your location at all times. For safety purposes… of course. He threw a cap on, tiptoeing around the city to spy on you and your friends.

Your manager was responsible for your fan club. He would never tell you this, because it was simply embarrassing to admit, but he made a blog to gush about you. ‘A hundred reasons why you should stan y/n’ was the beginning of his secret outlet. He was the one that started the #manager and y/n would be cute hashtag on twitter, uploading a bunch of pictures of you and him having a ‘sweet’ moment. He spent hours scouring the internet to watch countless of edits of you, and he even made some himself. His cold and methodical demeanor would disappear the moment he was in the comfort of his home. He would lay in his bed, giggling and kicking his feet, twirling a piece of his hair as his eyes lit up at the sight of you on his screen.

Your manager acts like a helicopter parent. He’s always on your ass. He never texts you paragraphs or long sentences, so he could spam you and make sure you had definitely seen his messages.

“Where are you?”

“Out drinking again?”

“What happened to being responsible?”

“You have a show in two days.”

“I’ll be disappointed in you if you are drunk.”

“You better be at my house in two seconds.”

“Two seconds or I’m coming to get your ass.”

He liked you being drunk (only when you were around him). You would mumble and whine, his name on your lips constantly as you complained. And he got to be your hero for a while. He also forbids you from having any groupies. If you and him can’t fuck, then you can’t see anyone else. It was as simple as that. He couldn’t stomach the idea of you being with other people, and that’s why he had you at his apartment 24/7. When you were traveling for your shows, you best believe it that he was with you too. To him, it felt like you guys were practically married. Living together on the same bus, cooking together, sleeping near each other in close quarters. He would never cross the line when you were conscious; but when you were sleeping… it was free game.

The yandere manager took pictures of you. You were so worn out after your concerts, that you didn’t feel him moving your body. You trusted him because he gave you zero reasons not to. You trusted him enough that you didn’t expect him to start peeling off your clothes. He wanted his camera roll to be filled with your body. He gently put his hand on your thighs, squeezing the fat as he snapped a picture of you in your underwear. His fingers would sometimes find its way inside your mouth, subtly testing out your gag relax, and filming it for his pleasure. He flipped you onto your stomach, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and had his camera working hard to catch up with his thumb. He rapidly pressed against the button, trying to catch all the angles of your ass and sex.

Your manager touches his dick when you send him raw recordings of your voice. You were a night owl, your brain never shutting down until three a.m. and you sent him new songs you were working on. He plugged in his earbuds, lying back onto his bed, and hit play. He hummed the newest lyrics, his eyes closing as his hand slowly traveled down towards his crotch. He palmed himself, feeling his dick hardening in his grey sweatpants. He wanted you badly.

Your manager thought you were perfect, drop dead gorgeous and fucking hot. You have this sex appeal that makes his knees weak. He imagined you whispering the words to him: the heat of your voice warming the side of his face, your hand feeling up this tip, and wrapping around his long cock. Would you think that his dick was impressive? Would you be happy with how much cum that shoots out? Would you love it so much to gulp all of it down?

“Fuckin’ hell. Take it down your throat.”

“You love this don’t you? My big star.”

Your yandere manager wanted to sleep with you so badly. But he swore to himself to not get involved with another one of his clients. He groaned, his eyes opening to stare at his blank white ceiling, and his desperate cock softened in his hand. He hadn’t gotten any action lately, and he was oh so waiting to find the perfect moment to be with you.

Allure: extra stuff! idk i feel iffy about this fic

this is definitely reader and yandere managers text messages.

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waitimcomingtoo · 11 months

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SLUT!

chapter two: you must like me for me

series masterlist

You had settled into a sort of routine with Peter. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you meet up before chemistry and study together in the library. You’d become pretty good friends due to how often you saw each other but had yet to hang out outside of your study sessions. Now that it was mid September, Peter was eager to take your friendship to the next level.

“Good morning.” You greeted Peter as walked into the classroom one day and went straight to the seat beside him. A few of your classmates looked up at you as you passed and snickered, but you payed them no mind.

“Morning. I shared a Google doc with you so we could take notes together. I figured that might help you understand things better.”

“You did?” You asked and opened your laptop. You saw the shared doc and how Peter had already organized and highlighted a few things that you had been confused about during your last tutoring session. You stared at the notes for a minute and blinked in surprise over someone genuinely caring about your grades.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked you when he noticed you freeze.

“Sorry. I think I just fell in love with you.”

“It’s okay. It happens to me all the time, actually.” Peter replied with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, I bet.” You laughed, making him laugh as well. The professor started class and you took your notes together on the shared doc. Peter noticed you typing things and then deleting them to rewrite them the way Peter had shown you. He smiled to see you using his techniques and looked over at you proudly. When class ended, he was disappointed that your time together was ending as well.

“Do you have class now?” He asked you as he put his backpack on.

“Yeah. In the building next door.” You replied.

“I’ll walk you.” Peter offered, making you smile. As he walked you to your next class, your hands bumped against each others a few times. He never found the courage to take your hand, though you wished he did.

“See you Thursday?” Peter asked once you reached your next class.

“Actually, if you’re not too sick of me, I have a game tomorrow. It’s at 6 on the main field. You totally don’t have to go-“

“I’ll be there.” Peter said immediately.

“Really? You’ll come?”

“I get a free water bottle, don’t I?” Peter asked, making you smile.

“You do. I’ll even sign it for you.” You said with a coy smile.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” He replied and got a laugh from you.

“See you tomorrow, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before going into your class.

The next day, Peter was seated on the bleachers as the girls soccer team played in front of him. Peters eyes never left you and while he didn’t know much about soccer, he was impressed with how you played. But it didn’t take long for Peter to notice that no one ever passed the ball to you. When you did have the ball, you brought it up the field with ease before passing it over. But when you didn’t have the ball, it seemed like your team mates passed to everyone but you. Peter didn’t know if he should bring it up or not as you ran to him once the game ended.

“Hey. You made it.” You smiled and pulled Peter into a hug. Peter was surprised by the contact but welcomed it and hugged you back.

“Sorry. Sweaty.” You smiled in embarrassment as you pulled away.

“It’s okay. I was cold anyway.” Peter laughed shyly. Three of your teammates walked by and when they saw you talking to Peter, they looked at each other and laughed. Peter watched your smile fade as you took a step back from him.

“Hey guys. Are we doing anything after the game?” You asked them. They looked at each other again before faking smiles.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” One of the girls told you.

“Okay. See you at practice, then.” You said and waved to them. The girls didn’t wave back and walked off together. You and Peter walked them them meet up with some more of your teammates in the parking lot and get in the same car. Your smile faded completely as Peter looked at you sympathetically. You looked at Peter to see if he noticed and felt embarrassed when you realized he had.

“Yeah. I kinda knew that was coming.” You laughed sadly to break the awkward silence that had settled.

“Are you guys not friends?” Peter asked quietly.

“We were at first. But everyone thinks I hooked up with Gwen’s boyfriend right after they broke up. Which isn’t true, but hey, why believe me? Her boyfriend said it happened and whatever the jocks say is true apparently.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“Wait, so Gwen forgave her boyfriend for hooking up with you but didn’t forgive you?” Peter asked.

“Funny how that works, isn’t it?” You smiled sadly. “I knew Gwen two years before she started dating him but none of that mattered. They all believed him over me and rumor ruined our friendship.”

Peter stayed silent as you watched your teammates drive away while music blasted from inside the car. You eyes slowly lowered to the ground and you wiped your face before throwing on a smile.

“They’re not bad people. If I thought a girl went for my boyfriend right after he broke up with me, I wouldn’t like her either. And I definitely wouldn’t want my friends talking to her.”

“Still. It sucks that they exclude you for something you didn’t even do.” Peter replied. You looked and him and smiled at him for understanding.

“Yeah. It does suck.” You agreed. “Thanks for coming to watch me play, Peter.”

“Of course. I had a good time. Even though I don’t get the rules and really wanted you guys to just pick the ball up and throw it sometimes.”

“Well, if you want, I could explain the rules over some ice cream.”

“I would love that.” Peter smiled and extended his arm. You smiled back and linked your arm through his. You brought him to your car and drove to a nearby ice cream shop. You paid for Peters ice cream and winked at him as you handed over your card. He laughed and felt his face turn red.

“Thank you. But the boy is supposed to pay, by the way.” Peter said as you took seats in a corner booth.

“I love that you call yourself a “boy” and never a “man”. It’s cute. And this is my way of thanking you for tutoring me. And for showing up to my game.” You said as you ate a spoonful of your ice cream. Peter blushed at the compliment and cleared his throat to cover it up.

“Well you’re very welcome. I’m happy to do both of those things.” Peter replied. You exchanged smiles with each other which prompted you to scoot closer to Peter.

“So how’d you get so good at chemistry?” You asked him.

“I had a lot of time to study in high school. A lack of friends and romantic prospects really frees up your schedule.” Peter answered.

“You’ve been friends with Ned since high school, right?”

“I have. How’d you know that?”

“I stalked Ned’s Instagram. And was very disappointed to find out you don’t have one. But not as disappointed as I am that you don’t wear those little circle glasses anymore.” You said pointedly.

“Oh God. He has pictures of those up?” Peter cringed.

“Many. And why the face? You looked so cute with your little Harry Potter glasses.” You said and playfully smacked his arm.

“They were not my best look. Although, I don’t think I’ve had my best look yet.”

“You have. It was that white T shirt you wore the first day of school. You made it very hard to pay attention to the syllabus that day.” You replied, making Peter blush once again.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He said quietly. “I liked that black skirt you wore last Tuesday.”

“Did you now?” You raised an eyebrow as you ate another spoonful of ice cream.

“Mhm. Very much so.” He admitted.

“I guess I’ll have to wear it more often.” You replied, and it almost sounded like you were flirting.

“I’d appreciate that. And I think so would everyone who gets to see you that day.” He said in response. You laughed and moved in a little more so that your knees were touching. Once you finished up your ice cream, you drove back to campus and pulled up in front of Peters dorm.

“So, same time in the library tomorrow?” You asked him.

“Yep. I’ll be there.”

“Cool. Goodnight, Peter.” You said with a soft smile.

“Goodnight.” He replied, but didn’t move. He had every intention of kissing you goodnight, just without any of the courage to do so. You were looking at him expectingly, almost like you knew what he was thinking about. Peter leaned in a little, then opened the car door and got out. You waved to him before pulling off and hoped he couldn’t tell you were disappointed.

Your disappointment didn’t last long as you still got to see Peter the next day. You walked into the library and found him sitting at your usually table. As soon as Peter saw you, he noticed you were wearing the black skirt he had just revealed he liked on you.

“Nice skirt.” He smirked as you sat down.

“This old thing?” You asked innocently. He had been worried you were upset with him for not kissing you last night since you didn’t text him like you usually did after hanging out. But seeing you wear the skirt he told you he liked put him at ease.

“Here. I graded your practice test.” He said and handed you a practice test he had given you earlier in the week.

“Holy shit. I really got an 89?” You asked him with a surprised smile.

“You did.” He said proudly. “I told you, once you get the hang of covalent bonds, they get a lot easier to do. The only part that’s still tripping you up is the acids and bases section. But I made you a new study guide that should help you get it down before the test next week. So don’t worry. I’ll get you up to a 90.”

“Peter, I was pulling 60s and 70s before I met you. I’m not worried at all. You’re a seriously great tutor. I can’t thank you enough.” You smiled and put your hand over his. Peter gulped and looked down at your hands before snapping out of it to play it cool.

“I’m only a good tutor because you’re a good student. You obviously want to do well and try your hardest. Sometimes it just takes someone explaining something in a different way.”

“Well no one’s ever taken the time to explain it to me like this. So I appreciate you.” You said and squeezed his hand. Peter felt his face warm up and knew you could tell.

“Well, you’re very welcome.” He said and put his hand over yours. You took this as a challenge and put your other hand on top of his, but he just did the same. You moved your thumb and rested it on top of his hand before giving him a look. Peter just put his thumb on top of yours and you had no moves left.

“You win.” You chuckled and pulled your hands away. Peter did too and felt his blush spread all the way to the tips of his ears. You cleared your throat suddenly and looked at him.

“So, uh, I was thinking.” You began and Peter could sense that you were nervous.

“About what?”

“Maybe instead of doing work tomorrow, we can get food instead.”

“Okay.” Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

“Like a date.” You added, making Peter raise his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“If that’s okay.” You quickly added.

“You know, I really don’t like going on dates with pretty girls. It’s just a thing of mine.” Peter replied, making you smile.

“Oh no. How unfortunate for me.”

“I know, I know. That’s what all the girls say.” Peter sighed. “But lucky for you, I’m willing to make an exception. Just this once.”

“You’re cute.” You chuckled and Peter felt his face heat up.

“I aim to please.”

“You do.” You told him, making his blush deeper.

“I’m glad you asked me because I’ve been wanting to ask you on a date since we met but I’m kinda a shy guy.” Peter admitted.

“Lucky for you, I always play as Shy Guy in Mario Kart.” You flirted. Peter grinned at the flirtation but it quickly faded when he realized something.

“Wait, you can’t play as Shy Guy in Mario Kart. He just throws cannonballs at you while you race.”

“Clearly you haven’t played any of the games past Mario Kart 7 because I literally play as him all the time.” You said with a playful scoff.

Before Peter could answer, you heard a wolf whistle as the library door opened. You looked over your shoulder and saw Flash Thompson and Harry Osborn looking at you with shit-eating grins. You quickly turned around and Peter watched your eyes fill with panic.

“Uh oh. Looks like Y/n has a new study buddy.” Harry said loudly, earning looks from other students in the library.

“Please, no.” You groaned and started to pack up your books.

“Do you know those guys?” Peter whispered to you.

“Oh, shit.” Flash laughed obnoxiously. “You’re with this guy again? Brad said he saw you with some dork but I didn’t believe it. Since when do you do repeats? I thought you liked to hit it and quit it.”

“Hey Y/n, I could tutor you too if you have some free time. We can talk about payment later.” Harry said and nudged Flash.

“We all know her favorite way to pay.” Flash added, making them both crack up laughing. You rolled your eyes and picked up your bag, prompting Peter do do the same.

“Aw, you’re leaving? I was just gonna offer that Flash and I tutor you together. Have you ever had two guys tutor you at once?” Harry asked and burst out laughing again. The librarian harshly shushed them but they didn’t stop.

“I bet she has. I bet she does that all the time.” Flash said and you and Peter walked towards the library door. You froze when you heard this and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’ll be right back.” You smiled tightly at Peter before walking over to Flash and Harry.

“Yes?” Harry said innocently.

“That’s enough.” You stated. “You need to stop.”

“Why? You don’t want lover boy finding out what a whore you are? He probably already knows. Everyone knows.” Harry said and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Because you and your moronic teammates spread lies about me.” You replied.

“The only one spreading anything is you.” Flash stated.

“Yeah. Your legs.” Harry added.

“Yeah, I got that, dipshit.“ You scoffed, making Harry gulp in embarrassment.

“Whatever.” Harry scoffed. “Who cares what you say? You’re just a stupid slut.”

You felt tears threaten to spill over your eyes when he used that word. It was the brick they always threw at you, but it hurt just the same every time. You felt dirty every time they called you that and no amount of telling yourself it wasn’t true made you feel clean. Every time one of those stupid boys called you a slut, you felt like they were erasing your name and pinning a scarlet letter in its place. It enveloped you and pushed you out of yourself so all you had ever done and all you’d ever be was a slut.

“Hey, are you guys really offering your tutoring services?” Peter asked as he appeared at your side. You blinked a few times in surprise and looked over at Peter. Harry and Flash exchanged a look before looking back at Peter.

“We might be.” Harry snorted and gave Flash a look.

“That’s really cool. I didn’t know the school let students on academic probation tutor others.” Peter said with such genuine enthusiasm you had you laugh.

“Excuse me?” Flash asked and stepped up to Peter.

“Oh, I just thought you weren’t allowed to play until you got your gpa above a 2.5?” Peter asked and tilted his head to the side. You smiled in surprise as you watched a Peter fight back with a weapon you never thought to use: passive aggression.

“What did you just say to me?” Harry asked and pushed Peter back a little. Before it could escalate, the librarian stepped between you.

“Boys. Out. Now. Don’t make me tell your coach.” The librarian said and pointed towards the door. Harry and Flash shot you a look but knew there was nothing more they could do.

“Whatever. Freaks.” Flash mumbled and headed towards the door. Harry went with him and bumped your shoulder.

“Slut.” He mumbled in your ear.

“Premature balding.” You whispered back. Harry looked genuinely offended and touched the back of his head.

“Uh uh. I meant the hairline.” You told him a before taking Peters arm and leaving the library. You walked far away from the library and ended up on a bench far away from any other students.

“Sorry about that.” You said as the two of you sat down.

“It’s okay. I’m honestly surprised those guys even knew where the library was.” Peter replied. You laughed, but Peter could tell you were deeply hurt over what had happened.

“They’re not true, you know.” You said quietly. Peter looked at you but you were staring at your fingers as you picked at your nail polish to seem busy.

“What isn’t?”

“All those things people say about me. Its not true. I’m not all bad like my reputation.” You said and finally looked at him.

“I never believed it. I like to see things for myself.” Peter told you, making you smile softly.

“So do I.”

“I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far.” Peter added, causing your smile to grow. You looked into his eyes for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him. Once Peters initial shock wore off, he cupped your face and kissed you back. The moment was hidden from the rest of the world and only existed between the two of you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like a slate wiped clean. More importantly, you felt like you again. You pulled out of the kiss after a minute and exchanged shy smiles.

“So have I.” You told him.

“What?” He asked.

“Oh, sorry. I was referring to what you said before. You said you liked what you’ve seen so far. And so have I.”

“Ohhhh. I honestly totally forgot about that. My mind went completely blank during the kiss. It was like that memory wipe thing in Men in Black.” Peter said quickly and realized he was rambling. You laughed and his awkwardness and rested your head on his shoulder.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I’d hate if I make things worse for you by being seen together.” Peter admitted. You knew he was right and that it would be bad for your brand to be seen with a boy, but in that moment, you didn’t care what anyone had to say about you. Despite the fact that anyone in the school would say otherwise, you had just been kissed for the first time. Nothing was gonna ruin the moment for you.

“Don’t worry about it.” You told him. “I’ll pay the price. You won’t.”

Tag List 💋

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@tom-hollands-wifey @alltoogay @bellajg21

@madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 5 months

Text

Too Close to Saying Goodbye

Summary: Tav gets injured fighting the Absolute, and its too close of a call for everyone but especially Karlach

Warnings: typical in game violence, somewhat graphic depictions of blood/injury, near death experience, angst(happy end!)

Authors note: my first time writing for BG3 and Karlach, so go easy on me please if its not the greatest

Word count: 1956

Karlach Masterlist BG3 Masterlist

What you currently stand in was once, no doubt, a beautiful open field near the forest. Now however, it has become a shell of its former self. The once green grass is now a dull brown, and it's marred by trails of upturned dirt that lead off into the distance towards a camp of Absolute forces that have clearly been stationed here a while.

In the distance you notice a few pillars of smoke rising into the sky, showing you exactly where the enemy is camped down at. With the hours growing late, you assume the fires mean that they've decided to settle in for the evening. You wager this means only a few will be out and about on their regular patrols, which would be easy enough to deal with if needed, so it should be the most opportune time to take your companions closer in order to observe and see just what you're dealing with.

This however, proves to be the wrong decision. For some reason, a small squad had been out on a patrol. And unfortunately for you, they had spotted you snooping nearly at once. There isn’t time for your party to hide or retreat, making a fight the only option. It truly isn't ideal with how they outnumber you, but you trust in the strength and strategy of your companions.

As the battle commences everything seems to be going smoothly. You’ve watched all your friends land a multitude of blows against the enemy, even managing to down a handful of the cultists despite being outnumbered. But, as all things with your little group, nothing can ever be as easy as it initially seems.

You had just managed to take down a rather large Orc, and were wrenching your blade free from his flesh when a Drow decided to take advantage of the situation and charged at you. You'd managed to spot him in your peripheral area in time to block the first blow with your bracers, but without a weapon you were not so lucky when the second blow came. And with a sickening squelch, the blade plunges into your shoulder.

Your yell echoes across the area, and Karlachs eyes frantically begin searching for you. Relief floods her when she finds you, but that relief is short lived when she notices the precarious situation you're in.

“NO!” she shouts, quickly felling the cultist in front of her before dashing in your direction. The drow pulls his blade free, causing blood to start pouring from the wound in a manner that has panic flaring within her, especially when she watches your knees give out as you crumble to the ground.

Worried that any time wasted fighting could prove fatal to you she summons all her strength and when she strikes, she easily cleaves the cultist responsible for your pain in two. His body falls to the ground not far from where you lay, and her bloodied ax clatters down next seconds before her arms are pulling you into her lap, “No, no, no. Tav!?”

You hiss in pain as something presses against your wound, but recognizing the warmth that now encompasses you, you call out, “Karlach”

“I’m here” she replies, pulling you even closer as tears cloud her vision, “I’ve got you”

You smile, but it lacks your usual warmth and doesn't quite meet your eyes. This makes her stomach drop even further and her eyes frantically start searching the battle again, this time for signs of the raven haired Cleric, or even one of the druids. But to her frustration she can currently spot none of them.

“I'm sorry” you mumble, effectively getting her gaze back on you, “I really did wanna explore the city with you….”

She shakes her head, “Don't talk like that. We'll make it to Baldur's Gate. Together.”

“Karlach…”

“I'm the one that's got limited time, remember, not you. So, you're gonna be just fine” She responds, clearly in denial of just how bad the situation is, “Just need some healing and rest. That's all”

The smell of your blood being spilled had brought another of your companions to your side, and though he's used to the sight of the coppery smelling liquid, when he sees the sheer amount of yours that's soaking into the grass, even he became queasy

“Karlach, is Tav…are they…?”

“Astarion, they need healing! Please get help!” she responds in such a panicked tone that he knows the situation is as serious as it seems, if not worse

He sprints off in a blur to where he had last seen the Cleric, he'd be damned if he was going to fail you now. No, not after all you've done for him, or for the others. No, you were truly too good of a traveling companion and friend to die so soon, and like this. He’d get you help. You would be fine.

As his footsteps fade into the sounds of the battle that still surrounds you, you become all too aware of just how bad the situation is. The dizziness and black edges to your vision tell you that you're losing too much blood far too quickly, and even if Astarion does find Shadowheart, with all the chaos going on there's no guarantee that she’ll even be in a position to come to aid you.

So despite the pain you're currently in, you're determined to offer some comfort to your beloved tiefling who cradles you in her embrace. You somehow manage to lift a hand to her cheek, and your thumb wipes at her tears, “You are truly incredible Karlach. How lucky I am….to have gotten to spend the time that I have with you….”

“Please, just stay with me love. Help will be her, it will”

You exhale shakily, “I’m not sure I can…

The way your voice is so small, so unlike you, has her bottom lip trembling and her grip on you becomes impossibly tighter, “Please, you can’t go yet…”

When Astarion spots Shadowheart a twinge of hope twists in his chest, and he wastes no time in running up to her and grabbing ahold of her forearm, “You're needed!”

“I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, in case that's gone without notice!” she reptiles, pulling her arm free to cast a firebolt at an advancing goblin

“I don’t care how bloody busy you are! Tavs dying, damn it!!” he snaps, “Go tend to them and leave these bastards to me!”

Her eyes widen for a brief second before determination takes over her features. She nods to the pale elf in understanding before darting off in the direction he had come from. Astarion swallows the lump of anxiety in his throat before turning to face the few goblins that she had been dealing with.

By the time Shadowheart reaches you she's almost afraid that she's too late, but the slight raise of your chest calms her fears, if only temporarily. A blue-green glow encompasses her hands as she kneels next to you, opposite Karlach.

“Tell me you can fix them Fringe, I can’t fucking lose them”

The Cleric takes a deep breath as she looks down at your wound. Normally something this bad wouldn’t be a problem, it would exhaust her but she could manage. But after using up as much energy fighting the cultists as she has…she's worried she may not be able to fully mend you.

“I…I can only try my best Karlach”

Though she nods in an attempt to remain stoic, a small sob does escape her, and it successfully breaks the half elfs heart. Shadowheart focusses her all on your shoulder then, letting the mending magic flow from her hands and onto your shoulder. The wound begins to close up and your breathing remains steady, which are both good signs. All that's left to worry about is the bloodloss.

The feeling of your flesh stitching itself back together is definitely strange, but what's even stranger is how it doesn’t seem to be helping your faint feeling. Your lover must be able to sense your confusion, or at least the fact that something is still off.

“What is it? What's wrong?”

Your brows furrow and you choke on your words before going limp in her hold. Panic completely overtakes her then, “Tav?!”

The sound of feet padding against the dirt nearby is the first thing that your senses register, the next thing is the small stuffed bear tucked under the arm that had been uninjured in battle. You smile softly before opening up your eyes, it takes a moment to adjust to the dimly lit surroundings but once your eyes adjust you can see the silhouettes of everyone sitting around the campfire in the distance. Well, everyone except Scratch and the Owlbear cub who are laying at your feet, standing guard. And Karlach of course, whose pacing was the source of the sound that had likely made you stir.

“Karlach” you croke out, grabbing her attention immediately

She's beside you in a second, her warm hands gently cupping your face and caressing your healed injury, “Oh thank the Gods”

“I think thanking Shadowheart may be more appropriate”

A smirk crosses her features, “Oh believe me, I’ll get to that. But right now…Right no I just want to look at you. And hold you.”

You nod your approval and she gently scoops you into her arms. You return her hug and feel your heart clench in your chest as she nuzzles against your neck, letting her tears land against your bare skin, “Oh, love…”

She shakes slightly with a sob, “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me? You had me scared, so fucking scared, soldier.”

“I’m sorry love, I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“Damn right you will be. You won’t be allowed to fight more than an arm's length away from me, and I mean that!” she clarifies, snaking her tail around your waist, “I can’t lose you. Not after everything.”

You hum and run a hand through her hair, trying your best to ignore that pit in your stomach that tells you that all too soon you’ll be the one in her shoes. Begging her to stay, begging for more time and cursing the unfairness of it all.

“I’m not going anywhere, not while I have you”

After a few more seconds of soaking in your presence she pulls away to rest her forehead against yours, “We should go see the others, they we worried about you too”

You lean forward and press your lips against hers briefly, “Alright, let's show them all I’m alright”

She helps you get to your feet, but when she sees how wobbly you still are she opts to just carry you over to everyone, “Look who's awake!”

Everyone's heads turn to look at the tiefling carrying you, and the look of relief on their faces as Karlach holds you brings a smile to your face. It truly warms your heart to see just how close this group of misfits has become.

“Glad to see you're alright, I wouldn’t have known how to comfort any of these weirdos if you weren’t” Astarion quips, but you see the real amount of care and worry in his eyes

“Well, I can’t leave you in that situation now, can I? Guess I’ll need to be more careful so I can stick around”

“That would be preferred, yes” the Cleric agrees, offering you a small smile which you return

Gale passes you and Karlach both bowls of stew, “I agree, we all would be quite lost without you to guide us. But let's stop being melancholy and enjoy this night together”

You smile and glance back at your lover, “Yes, lets”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 karlach #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #bg3 fanfiction

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howboringislife · 1 year

Text

Aot boys' reaction learning you're injured pt.2

With: Jean, Armin and Bertholdt

Warning: mention of injuries, blood, fluffy

Part one: here

Masterlist

Jean

He will be the first one to see the bloody spot on your shirt growing bigger. He will be the one who saw your widen eyes. He will be the one who heard the grunt of pain and panic leaving your lips as you fell down.

Will refuse to leave you there. Panic taking control over him, his arrogant facade crumbling. “Please… stay with me!”

Once you’re in the nursery or in the medical tent, Jean will try to visit you immediately. He’s grabbing his head and pulling on his hair nervously as he waits the doctor’s answer.

Marco will try to calm him down but it only stress Jean more. “For god’s sake, Marco! Shut up!” He will yell suddenly, turning toward his best friend.

When he finally sees you in the medical bed, he’s at the verge of crying. He brings his shaky hand and put it on yours. You are alive. You’re here with him.

The only thought of it make him let out a soft sob which he immediately muffles. He already lost too much dignity.

“J-Jean?” Your low voice brings him back to reality. “You saved me.” Your weak smile makes his heart flutter with happiness and emotion as he leans down to kiss your lips gently.

On the next mission he won’t leave if eyes off you. Jean, the one who cares about his own life before the other’s, will be ready to sacrifice himself just to protect you.

Armin

Armin will show visible signs of shock and anxiety when he will learn the new. Poor little guy will be so scared for you.

It's his fault, he should have come with you at the mission, how could he has let you go all alone?

All these thoughts are making him sick to death as he is waiting, sitting down against the wall of the nursery, waiting for the authorization to come in.

Will totally look like a sad and lost puppy, fixing the ground as he is fighting against the tears who make his vision blurry.

He's gonna stay all his free on the small little chair beside your bed, his hand firmly holding yours. "Armin, I'm fine, you should rest a bit."

Kissing your hand gently, he will wipe the few tears who rolled down his cheek. "You scared me to death, Y/N, I will never leave you ever again." His voice is full of determination but softness at the same time.

He has to be strong for you and he will be. It's finished the time when he was scared of everything. It's a new era who starts for him now.

He decided to change. For the sake of humanity. Because he almost lost you. Because he doesn't want to live this stress ever again.

Berthold

Berthold won't be very expressive when he will learn the new. This guy is silent almost 80% of the time.

He will probably keep everything for himself, others don't have to know his pain. So, he's trying to stay strong all alone.

He hates when people pity him. He's already feeling so much pain, why others have to make it worse?

Will try to visit you without Reiner, he wants to be alone with you this time. Just you and him. Gosh, he can't even remember the last time you two were alone!

He's just gonna sit down beside your bed, waiting for you to wake up. Don't worry, he's not in a hurry.

Berthold will watch you open your eyes, looking around the room. "You don't have to worry about anything, Y/N. You are safe." A soft smile curling his lips.

Inside, he's literally jumping of happiness. You're here with him, safe and sound. Alive.

Will bend a bit to kiss your forehead, ruffling your hair. A single tear rolling down his cheek but he will discretely wipe it away.

He will be repeatedly cautioning you about the missions, telling you to be careful and not to put yourself too much into danger.

Ps: Will be secretly game to turn into the Colossal Titan just to protect you.

⁔‿⁔‿ ⁔‿⁔‿ ⁔‿⁔‿

Wtf, why did it take so much time to make???

Requests are still open BTW!

#jean kirstein #armin arlert #bertholdt hoover #attack on titan #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan headcanons #aot #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #armin arlet x reader #bertholdt hoover x reader #pt 2

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nevernonline · 11 months

Text

✧.* svt as songs from 1989 (taylors vrs)

happy 1989 day to all my bbs celebrating!! xoxo. idk whose but one of these will prob end up being a full fic vv soon give me a suggestion lol im indecisive 🩵😌

seungcheol: i wish you would.

"2 AM, here we are see your face, hear my voice in the dark. we're a crooked love in a straight line down. makes you wanna run and hide but it made us turn right back around. i wish you would come back, wish i never hung up the phone like i did, i wish you knew that I'd never forget you as long as i live and i wish you were right here, right now, it's all good i wish you would."

jeonghan: is it over now?

"was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? "come here," i whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now?"

joshua: new romantics.

" 'Cause baby, I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me. and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream. baby, we're the new romantics, come along with me. heartbreak is the national anthem, we sing it proudly. we are too busy dancin' to get knocked off our feet. baby, we're the new romantics the best people in life are free"

junhui: wonderland.

"flashin' lights and we took a wrong turn and we fell down a rabbit hole. you held on tight to me ’cause nothing's as it seems and spinning out of control. didn't they tell us, "don’t rush into things"? didn't you flash your green eyes at me? haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? oh, didn't it all seem new and exciting? i felt your arms twisting around me, i should have slept with one eye open at night. we found wonderland, you and i got lost in it"

soonyoung: how you get the girl.

"stand there like a ghost, shakin' from the rain. she'll open up the door and say, "are you insane?"say, "it's been a long six months" and you were too afraid to tell her what you want. and that's how it works that's how you get the girl and then, you say i want you for worse or for better i would wait forever and ever. broke your heart, i'll put it back together, i would wait forever and ever and that's how it works. that's how you get the girl."

wonwoo: blank space.

"nice to meet you, where you been? i could show you incredible things. magic, madness, heaven, sin saw you there and I thought "oh, my god, look at that face. you look like my next mistake love's a game, wanna play?" new money, suit and tie i can read you like a magazine. ain't it funny? rumors fly and i know you heard about me. so, hey, let's be friends i'm dyin' to see how this one ends, grab your passport and my hand i can make the bad guys good for a weekend."

jihoon: you are in love.

"morning, his place burnt toast, sunday, you keep his shirt, he keeps his word and for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts. one step, not much, but it said enough. you kiss on sidewalks, you fight and you talk one night, he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says "you're my best friend" and you knew what it was, he is in love."

dokyeom: suburban legends.

"i didn't come here to make friends we were born to be suburban legends. when you hold me, it holds me together and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever. i know that you still remember we were born to be national treasures. when you told me we'd get back together and you kissed me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever."

mingyu: wildest dreams.

"he's so tall and handsome as hell, he's so bad, but he does it so well and when we've had our very last kiss, my last request it this. say you'll remember me standin' in a nice dress starin' at the sunset, babe. red lips and rosy cheeks say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams."

minghao: i know places.

"you stand with your hand on my waistline it's a scene and we're out here in plain sight, i can hear them whisper as we pass by. it's a bad sign, bad sign. somethin' happens when everybody finds out, see the vultures circlin', dark clouds. love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out. 'cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns. they are the hunters, we are the foxes and we run baby, i know places we won't be found and they'll be chasing their tails tryin' to track us down. 'cause i know places we can hide"

seungkwan: sweeter than fiction.

"seen you fall, seen you crawl on your knees, seen you lost in a crowd, seen your colors fade. wish i could make it better, someday you won't remember this pain you thought would last forever and ever there you'll stand, ten feet tall i will say, "i knew it all along" your eyes are wider than distance this life is sweeter than fiction"

vernon: now that we don't talk.

"you grew your hair long you got new icons and from the outside it looks like you're tryin' lives on i miss the old ways. you didn't have to change, but i guess i don't have a say now that we don't talk. i call my mom, she said that it was for the best remind myself the morе i gave, you'd want me less i cannot bе your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost and what it cost, now that we don't talk."

chan: slut!

"send the code, he's waitin' there the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air. everyone wants him, that was my crime, the wrong place at the right time and i break down, then he's pullin' me in. in a world of boys, he's a gentleman."

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pappydaddy · 1 year

Text

idiot (j.m.)

a/n: ha, i'm baaaack! bet cha didn't think y'all were getting this fic!

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: jj tries to impress his girlfriend, but it doesn't go as well as he planned.

warnings: reckless actions, accident, mention of a dislocation, mention of breaking a bone, fluff.

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- not my gif -

JJ has done stupid and reckless things before. It was expected of him and he liked to live up to expectations. He was the unhinged friend that stressed everyone out. Since meeting him in elementary school, Y/N didn’t know JJ not to be daring which meant that she (being the nervous and apprehensive person she was) often found herself on the verge of a heart attack whenever he pulled his little stunts. Since they started dating two years ago, his chaos and recklessness has decreased, but not by any significant bounds.

But the decrease wasn’t from JJ changing, it was from Y/N insisting that he needs to be safe and arguing with him (which actually makes him think first). Even then, it’s a fifty-fifty shot that he actually listens. For instance, there was a new skatepark installed on The Cut, a last-ditch effort to (a) make The Cut look nicer, (b) keep Pogues out of Kook territory, and (c) lower crime rates. Of course, JJ, who has never skateboarded before, was convinced it was just like surfing so, therefore, he believed he would be a pro at it. He was wrong. Horribly wrong. But, thanks to Y/N, he was wearing a helmet and managed to avoid concussing himself on the concrete after he fell off the metal railing (nearly hitting his head on that).

Now, the dirt bike track was finally up and running again following the brief closure (three years) due to the owner going to jail for embezzlement. Now, after two former motocross x-game finalists who grew up in The Cut had bought it, it was fixed up and ready to be used again. Of course, JJ was naturally drawn to it, visiting every day so far this summer. Most of the time, Y/N went with him, but she was unable to go the past three weeks because Sarah had pulled her away to the mainland for shopping.

“Babe, I am so excited for you to come to the course again,” JJ was nearly bouncing off the walls all day. He even woke up at nine in the morning (and was like this from the start). His breakfast of a mixture of half a box of fruity pebbles and half a box of lucky charms was not helping anything. “I’ve been working on so many neat moves with Nathan, he says that I have enough skill that I could enter comps and win huge cash prizes.”

She looked over at him from where she packed things into her tote bag. “Nathan would know, maybe you should enter some contests. You could probably enter some surfing contests too,” She nodded, double checking the contents of her bag. JJ spending every day at the course has led to Nathan (one of the owners) coaching him as a hobby. Completely free and completely spontaneous. “You could really make a career out of these, J.” She reminded him.

“I don’t know, Babe,” He shrugged, grabbing the sunscreen and her sunglasses that she forgot on her dresser. “Some of these guys that play these sports come from rich families who pay for only the best training. No way I can compete against that. Their parents buy them wins basically! How can I win against someone who bribes the judges? Or someone who has the best bike?” He pointed out, handing her the items as she started to walk out of their room.

“Thanks,” She smiled up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And Nathan has competed against them and won, he can teach you how. Talent is always better than money in the long run. It’s worth a try if you think you’ll be happy,” A honk sound from outside, signalling that the Twinkie was there. “I mean, you asked me out because you thought it would make you happy and look at us now. Living together.” She gestured around at the small cottage-like house they rent. Two-bedroom, one bath, and the floor plan was open concept because it was just a kitchen and living room.

“Would you be okay if I started competing,” JJ asked her, his hand reaching out to gently grab her arm when she started to walk towards the front door, another honk sounding from John B. She turned around, seeing him inches away from her, eyes staring down into hers as he waited for her answer. “It’s easy to get hurt in these sports and I don’t want you worrying all the time.”

She sighed, smiling at him, hands coming up to cup his face. “I’m always gonna worry about you JJ. What matters is if you’re happy. You sacrifice so much for me, I can sacrifice being scared out of my wits for the length of a competition.” With that, she rolled up to the balls of her feet, pressing a kiss to his lips just when another honk sounded.

____

“I can’t believe you said you would be fine with him competing,” Sarah shook her head as she watched the course. People zipped around, mud flying in every direction. Sarah and Y/N sat on the bleachers, free sodas from the cooler in hand. Y/N looked up from her book, eyes searching for JJ instantly, quickly finding him talking to Nathan off on the side. “I mean, someone wipes out every second. If John B started competing in motocross I would have a nervous breakdown.”

Y/N shrugged, eyes leaving JJ to see John B ripping around the course. “It makes him happy and he’s really excited about Nathan telling him he could do well at this,” She took a sip of her soda, the cool liquid helping cool her body temperature. “I’m not going to let my worries ruin this for him.”

“You’re braver than me, girl.” Sarah shook her head, taking a drink of her own soda just as Kie and Pope turned the corner, climbing the bleachers with take out containers in their hands from the food truck parked in the parking lot.

“We got JJ and John B’s, they are on the bottom to stay warm,” Pope told the two girls, handing them two containers. “Though, I don’t know why I try since they will devour them cold by choice,” Pope shook his head, settling down beside Sarah, picking up his untouched soda. “Are they almost ready for a break anyway? They’ve been at this for hours.” He asked, popping the tab open, the carbonation hissing as it rushed out.

Glancing over at the track, Y/N shrugged. “John B will probably be done once he finishes this lap, but JJ is probably gonna take the course once more so Nathan can time him,” She explained. “He’s aiming to break his personal best.” She was proven correct when JJ pulled his helmet over his head, securing it as he nodded along to whatever Nathan was telling him, his face hidden by the dark tinted face shield.

Just as John B finished his lap, JJ revved his engine, mud slinging around as his tire spun. Y/N perked up slightly as he drove to the startline. With a flick of Nathan’s thumb, JJ took off, zipping around the track. Y/N wiggled to the edge of her seat, setting her soda and the two containers of fries on the bench beside her. Something told her to keep watching. Maybe it was that she thought he would make a new personal best or maybe JJ had been a little too good about not making reckless decisions as of late. She wasn’t too sure, but here she was hanging off of every mound and every turn as if he were competing for a national title.

Then, it all made sense when she noticed Nathan’s hands flying through the air, looking like he was telling JJ to slow down or something as he yelled into the radio that allows him to communicate with JJ. “Is that some kind of signal?” Sarah asked, her nose wrinkling as she watched Nathan’s hand movements in confusion.

“They have radio communication, he wouldn’t need to use hand signals unless JJ was training for a race,” John B, who Y/N didn’t notice had joined them, explained. He tipped his uncapped water bottle towards Nathan. “It looks like he’s stressin’. Must think JJ’s pushing himself too hard.”

The group watched with worried expressions. From where they sat, they could hear the raised voice of Nathan but they couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roar of JJ’s motor. It was a split second. A tiny movement. But it told Y/N exactly what was going on. As JJ flew by the stands, she could see the way his head stayed tilted towards her for a second too long to not be a coincidence, followed by a sudden surge of speed. “Oh, God, JJ,” She tucked her lip between her teeth. “Please don’t. Listen to Nathan.” She pleaded quietly, hoping he could sense her wishes.

“Don’t do what? What’s he doing?” Pope asked, looking at Y/N with nervous eyes. Before Y/N could react, JJ’s bike took the turn too tight, tire hitting the soft mud at such a high speed (nearly double the speed Nathan suggested probably), slinging mud and causing him to lose control. Everyone stood as the bike started to fall, flinging JJ off it, but Y/N was already running down the bleachers while Nathan ran towards him from the ground.

“JJ,” Y/N yelled, not caring that her white sneakers were getting covered in sloppy mud. Somehow, she managed to get to JJ before Nathan, dropping to her knees, ignoring the cold, uncomfortable feeling of mud shifting under her. “JJ, does anything hurt? Oh my god.” She muttered, shaking fingers trying to undo his helmet strap to pull it off, but she could barely feel any of her limbs as panic took over.

“My shoulder,” JJ’s voice was strained and muffled as Y/N still fumbled with the helmet. Finally pulling it off his head, she could see his face screwed up in pain, his other hand clutching the shoulder he landed on (and was currently laying on). “It really hurts.” He could barely open his eyes as he flopped his head back, mud matting into his blonde hair.

“His shoulder hurts, what do we do?” Y/N looked up at Nathan who turned the bike off, handing it off to John B to put away. Crouching down on the other side of JJ, he looked down at him.

“I think he popped his shoulder out of place,” Nathan observed, looking up at Y/N as she softly stoked JJ’s hair, feeling rather useless as he groaned in pain, a few tears even slipping from his shut eyes, mixing with the mud laying under him. “Let’s sit him up first, but someone has to take him to the hospital to get it set.”

“You’re not gonna go to the hospital?” Y/N asked him, eyes nearly popping out. While all of them were now adults, Nathan was in his early thirties making him more of an adult than the 19-year-olds who currently surrounded him.

A whimper from JJ made her look down at him, seeing him trying to move. Gently, she placed her hand on his chest, rubbing it to calm him down. “I’ll be right behind you guys, I just don’t have the room to drive him to the hospital comfortably in my two-seater.” He pointed over to the car park where his black Mazda MX-5 sat, backed into the spot next to the Twinkie - a hilarious sight.

“We’ll help him to the van, Y/N/N,” John B crouched down, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. Startled, she looked over at him. He could see the tears building in her eyes as she blinked at him, nodding. “He’ll be okay, it’s just a popped shoulder. Remember when he broke his collarbone in freshman year? This is like that but less severe.”

He knew she already knew that, but when you see the one you love in unbearable pain, common sense tends to take a backseat. “Okay,” She muttered, looking around - needing something to take her mind off her boyfriend laying there, not being able to open his eyes from the amount of pain he was in. “I'll open the passenger seat and get it set for him-” As she spoke, she slowly took her hands from JJ, moving to stand up but her words were cut off as a hand reached out to grab her wrist.

“No, stay,” JJ spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. His crystal clear blue eyes were clouded by tears and laced with pain as she looked back down at him, kneeling beside him. “I need you.” He whimpered, eyes snapping closed again.

“I won’t leave you, J.” She reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek softly, hoping it brought him some comfort at least.

____

After a very uncomfortable drive with John B going way over every single speed limit, Y/N and JJ sat in an ER bay, the curtain shielding them from the rest of the ER. “Do you think I just dislocated it?” JJ asked, his voice hoarse. He shifted his head on the pillow, looking at Y/N. He was laying more comfortably after the doctors prescribed some pain meds, but Y/N was still treating him like a porcelain doll.

“The tests are just to make sure they aren’t missing anything, J,” She reassured him, rubbing soothing circles on his good arm. “Whatever it is, I will take good care of you.” She smiled, throwing a wink at him knowing flirty innuendos were his favourite thing ever - especially when they came from his insanely hot girlfriend.

Just as JJ opened his mouth to retort, the curtain opened with a flourish. In came the doctor, followed by two interns all sporting crisp white coats. “Okay, Mr. Maybank,” The older looking doctor spoke up, eyes on the tablet he held, clicking away on it. “We got your scans back, and it looks like you have a very minor glenoid fracture on top of your treated dislocation. Now that your dislocation has been reduced, you should feel a little more comfortable, but that fracture is gonna give you some issues,” He explained, setting the tablet down and pulling a prescription pad from his coat pocket. “I am going to prescribe you some pain medication, Hydrocodone,” He spoke as he scribbled quickly. “Also known as Vicodin. I am not going to prescribe much as it's highly addictive, I recommend only using what you need along with icing frequently and resting it for a full two weeks,” He explained, handing JJ the prescription before pulling a pamphlet from his chest pocket. “That’s a pamphlet on opioids explaining how they work, major side-effects to watch out for, and tips to avoid getting addicted to them. I like to hand them out to help patients manage their pain safely.”

“How long does the recovery take?” Y/N asked, her hand gripping JJ’s in relief.

“Typically, recovery takes a total of 12 to 16 months. Like I said, after two weeks you can return to normal activity aside from heavy-lifting, sports, or strenuous activity. Then, after a span of 6 weeks or 3 months, you can resume normal activity if your shoulder permits. I would recommend a physical therapist to help with recovery, but for now, lots of rest and my interns will put your arm in a sling.” He gave them a tight smile, nodding as he turned and left the makeshift room.

“Hear that, J. Lots of rest and you’re gonna be fine.” Y/N smiled, letting go of JJ’s hand, standing to move out of the way of the interns as they moved around, getting his arm in a sling. She busied herself with collecting his shoes as the nurses helped her dress him earlier (so she didn’t jostle his shoulder getting his clothes on. John B had been so kind as to run to their place to get him clean clothes.

“You’re all set, Mr. Maybank, we will see you in 6 weeks to check on your recovery.” With that, they also left the makeshift room, leaving the curtain open. Y/N knew they were busy people and it was just an ER, but the speed of everything made her head spin slightly.

“I think I could get used to my hot girlfriend taking care of me for two whole weeks,” JJ commented as she kneeled down in front of him from where the interns helped him sit up, his legs over the edge of the bed. She looked up at him, shooting him a scornful look. “I think restraining myself will be a little strenuous though-”

“JJ Maybank, no funny business until you are better, until you are cleared to resume all activity, any funny business is off the table,” She informed him sternly. He narrowed his eyes at her, pouting his lip. “I mean it JJ. Maybe then you will take recovery seriously.”

“If recovery means we can’t take part in my favourite pastime, then I am going to take it as serious as hell,” He remarked. “This is going to be the fastest and best recovery the doctors have ever seen. Then, you are going to have the time of your life once I am cleared.” He smirked, watching as she stood up, shaking her head.

Her smile she had been trying to fight broke free as she sat beside him, making sure to sit to his left (his uninjured side). “I am sure you will.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. The sound of multiple approaching footsteps made them pull away to see their friends slipping into the open curtain.

“Nathan is talking to your doctor, he said he would cover the medical bill,” Pope explained, pointing over his shoulder. “Good thing it was only a minor fracture, now we just have to make sure JJ actually listens during recovery.” He remarked, shooting a playful glare at the blonde. Everyone knew JJ would be a pain in the ass during recovery, always doing things he shouldn’t be doing.

“Not gonna be an issue,” Y/N spoke confidently. “We already talked about it and JJ is gonna take it very seriously,” She looked towards him, almost daring him not to keep his word when her face suddenly changed, looking like she had a question. “Why did you take that turn too fast anyway? Nathan was telling you to slow down and the course looked extra muddy today thanks to that rainstorm we just had.”

Suddenly, JJ’s cheeks tinged red in a blush and he dropped his eyes to his lap. “I wanted to impress you.” He muttered bashfully, ashamed because she endlessly told him that he impresses her every single day.

“You’re an idiot, JJ! You severely injured yourself to impress the girl who has seen you throw up on yourself.” She rolled her eyes, slightly shaking his hair, the only thing she thought she could do to not cause him more pain.

Quickly, the bashfulness was wiped from JJ’s face as a smug smile took over his face. “Well, at least I am your idiot, right?” JJ asked, making her roll her eyes at him, a large smile fighting a way onto her face as she leaned in.

“That’s why you’re an idiot for trying to impress me, you’re mine forever - regardless of idiocy.” She pressed another kiss to his lips, smiling into the kiss like a fool in love.

Pope and John B groaned at the display of affection, but Sarah and Kie cooed, hugging each other. Pope and John B started to gag as the kiss lingered, the pair of them staring into each other’s eyes intently. “Oh, shut up guys-” Kie rolled her eyes at Pope and John B.

“Y’all know you’re the reason I believe in love, ya know?” Sarah cooed, ignoring the other three, watching JJ and Y/N as if they were her favourite ship in a show. John B shot her a look, gesturing to himself before giving up. JJ and Y/N were the reason they all believed in love.

“Well, she’s the reason I believe in love.” JJ remarked, pressing another kiss to Y/N’s lips.

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spade-riddles · 4 months

Text

champagneproblesm asked:

Kinda tells a story when you pick the outro or last verse from each song backwards :

The only thing that's left is the manuscript. One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then i re read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore

But now we'll curtail your curiosity in sweetness

She's been many places with men of many faces. First, they're off to the races. She's laughing drawin' aces. But, none of it is changin'. That the chariot is waitin'. Hearts are hers for the breakin. There's an escape in escaping OR she fell through the Ice then came black Alive.

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light

When the truth Comes out it's quiet. It's so quiet .

(I'm so afraid I sealed my fate no sign of soulmates. I'm just a paperweight in shades of greige) Spending my last coin so someone will tell it'll be ok

What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time.

I pushed each boulder up that hill.

This place made me feel worthless

Your words were just still ringing in my head.

I'm hearing voices like a mad man

Leaving me bereft and reeling, my beloved ghost and me sitting in a tree D-Y-I-N-G

Can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses, cooler in theory but not if you force it to be, it just didn't happen.

The devil that you know looks now more like an angel. I'm the life you chose and all this terrible danger OR she IS here to destroy you

Pick your poison, babe I'm poison either way

Now I want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes and hire a priest to come and exorcise my demons. Even if I die screaming and I hope you hear it.

Only when your girlish glow flickers just so do they let you know i's hell on earth to be heavenly. Them's the breaksThey don't come gently

They said there was no chance, trying to be the greatest in the league.

You hung me on your wall, stabbed me with your push pins. In public, showed me off then sank in stoned oblivion cause once your queen had come you treat her like an also-ran. You didn't measure up in any measure of a man

Cause i'm miserable. And no one even knows. Try and Come for my job

Your arsons match your somber eyes. And i'll still see it till the day i die. (You're the loss of my life.)

Your good lord didn't need to lift a finger.

I am what i am cause you trained me. So who's afraid of little old me?

Am i allowed to cry ?

Go on fuck me up

I did my Time.

All the wine moms are still holding out but it's over.

You'll find someone.

Waving at the ship, fuck it if i can't have him

Left all these broken parts, told me i'm better of but i'm not

Who else decodes you ? or / i chose this cyclone with you

it won't start up 'til I touch, touch, touch you

it won't start up 'til I touch, touch, touch you (fortnight)

Then midnights

I can't find a pulse my Heart won't start anymore

have they come to take me away?

You should find another guiding light

Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first

It's been two thousand one hundred and 90 days of our love blackout. The system's breaking down.

I'd pay if you'd just know me. Seemed like the right thing at the time.

Levitate above all the messes made sit quiet by my side in the shade. And not the kind that's thrown, I mean The kind under where a tree has grown

it's all over, it's not meant to be. So I'll say words I don't believe

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair. And we will never go back.

Had to do it this way 'Cause we were born to be the pawn In every lover's game

You say "what a mind" this happens all the Time

It's coming back around.

Break up, break free, break through, break down. You would break your back to make me break a smile

I think it's time to teach some lessons i made you my world. have you heard? I can reclaim the land.

I'm on my vigilante shit again.

But you were on somethin', It was one drink after another, Fuckin' politics and gender roles, And you're not sure and I don't know. Got swept away in the gray. I just may like to have a conversation

So I peered through a window, A deep portal, time travel, All the love we unravel. And the life I gave away

I'll run away

to hide that would be so dishonest. And it's fine to fake it 'til you make it. 'Til you do, 'til it's true

Pierced through the Heart but Never killed.

I feel you no matter what. The rubies that i gave up.

I find it dizzing they're bringing m'y History. But you weren't Even listening.

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villainessprefect · 2 years

Note

For a Idia Shroud x female reader or gender neutral it doesn’t matter to me, Could you do a one shot or scenario kind of story where he realizes that the reader keeps pictures of him (like they got a album that says “all of my boyfriend’s rare smiles I love”) because apparently they say that looking at a specific picture of him makes them happy or makes them motivated enough to start the day? You can take your time I don’t like to seem like a mean person and I also would like to complement your previous works of Idia! I enjoyed a lot of your stories of him :3

thank you for the request!! 🥺 and thank you for reading my works!! ueueue I hope you enjoy this one <3 also happy holidays since im posting on xmas lol I still kept with gender neutral and Prefect (hope thats okay). I went with a more tech-y route since I think it would be hard to snap pictures of him with an actual camera and have a physical photo album?? Recluses dont like getting pictures taken-

title: If a picture is worth a thousand words, then what about a photo album?

summary: Idia stumbles upon your not-so-secret album and he's at a loss for words. It means a lot (to you and him).

ship: Idia x gn!reader

word count: 1,788

Read on AO3

"I'll be back in a second. I just want to check on Grim," and make sure he hasn't gotten into the secret stash of tuna, you mentally add. You would have said it aloud, but you're fully aware that Idia would take his side over yours if it meant he could get on the monster's good side. Sometimes you wondered if he adored the cat more than you, jokingly of course. You know the truth.

You slide away from Idia's side and hop off your bed, gracefully landing on your feet. Before you take a step forward you turn back to chuck your phone onto the bed where you had been sitting.

"Can you do my dailies while I'm gone?"

"Do you even need to ask?" His free hand is already reaching for your phone. He unlocks it without even having to look at the keypad, eyes focused on his own phone. "You'll owe me for it though," he says with a grin, flashing his sharp teeth, challenging you. You chuckle and accept.

"If you pull me an SSR I'll do whatever you want," you say with a wink.

You twirl and begin your journey to find your other half, but not before catching a glimpse of Idia's falling confidence. His radiant smile fell only to have his lips in a thin line as his cheeks turned pink. You wish you could have gotten a picture of him then.

Idia shakes his head once you're gone and taps your phone before it locks itself. His heart had picked up and now he had to steady it so he could focus on the mission you gave him. The first half is easy. Dailies don't take long and he even gets you some extra crafting material for your characters. It's the other half that he ponders about.

Sure, he could pull an SSR for you and surprise you. He doesn't mind putting funds into your account. It's just he'd rather have you here with him when he does the pulls. He can show off his magic touch and get you on the first ten! Then you'd really have to do anything for him! Plus, he gets to see you get hyped when he pulls your favorite.

"It'll be worth the wait," he mutters and adds enough funds for an extra ten pull. "But I should get a reward for fulfilling the first half, right? Getting a delayed reward isn't how games work."

Idia grins as he glances at the door. When there's no sign that you're on the other side, he focuses on your phone, his grin widening like a mad scientist.

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind me getting some pics of Grimmy."

He leaves your game and slides into your photo album. He's already chuckling at this sneaky victory prize. Grim only accepts you taking pictures of him and refuses to have them sent to Idia. Of course, you would still send the occasional picture to him against the monster's wishes. Sometimes you would use the excuse that the picture had both of you in it. (And boy were those pictures the ones Idia loved the most). Regardless, he knows your phone is a treasure trove filled with pictures of Grim and he's going to raid it.

But something else stops him completely.

As he goes to the albums the first one set up causes him to freeze. One labeled "Idia's rare smiles 💙". Seeing the title and the previewed pictures cause his cheeks to burn. His hair follows, acting as if it had just been ignited with his tips turning pink.

"Wh-Wh-Wh?!"

Your phone nearly slides out of his hands and part of him considered chucking it at the wall in disbelief. Thankfully, he is far too stunned to follow through on that. Instead, his grip strengthens as he stares at the album.

He can't believe that you keep a separate album that's just pictures of him. Specific pictures of him to be exact. And so many?! Okay, maybe having eighteen isn't that much, but it is a lot to him! Did he really smile that often? And how the hell did you even manage to snap that many of him? Were you improving your stealth stats without him knowing?

A shaky finger accidentally taps on the album, causing it to open up. And...he's surprised.

There are pictures of him genuinely happy. Some of them he can't quite remember and it doesn't help that a good chunk of them were side profiles. Those might have been from game nights when he was really immersed in the challenge. But those that captured his whole face, his cheery smile, toothy or not, content and accomplished, he remembers those. He'd always get embarrassed right after those were taken.

"Do I...really look like that...?" He mutters to himself. He doesn't think he's good-looking despite what you tell him. But even he has to admit that in some of these pictures, his smile is...kinda nice. Still weird for a shut-in to smile so brightly, he thinks. It's very weird. He isn't sure his heart can take this!

"I'm back! Sorry, I took a bit longer than I thought. Grim got stuck- are you okay?" You ask, cutting yourself off as you see the color of your boyfriend's hair. It was an odd mix of blue and pink, with the latter color beginning to overtake his usual hue. Normally the change would only affect the tips, not the rest of his hair, so it's a surprise to see him like this.

Idia fumbles for his words. He jumps as you catch him red-handed and loosens his grip on your phone. It slips out of his grasp, falling from his lap and onto your bed. With his hands free, he now takes this chance to cover his face.

You're left with more questions than answers. Nothing comes to mind as to what would leave Idia like this. It's only when you surprise him with a chaste kiss on the cheek does he ever flare up and you hadn't been here to do that. So, you step forward to see what had caused this.

Your special photo album.

You blink and have to hold back a laugh. This is what made him react like that?

"Why..." Idia breathes, managing to find his voice now. "D-Do you have something like that?" He almost sounds terrified, especially with the fact that he's hiding behind his hands, but you know better. The shock and surprise that someone would care to save these rare and beautiful pictures of him is only something you would do.

The laughter bubbling up inside of you evaporates and you wear a soft smile. Gently, you pick up your phone and slide back to your position beside him. He stays in place, slowly pulling his hands down, though they cover his lips. Those glowing yellow eyes focus on you, not even daring to look at your phone as you absentmindedly scroll up and down the album.

"It's normal to have something like this, right?" You ask, though don't expect an answer. "Besides, it's nice to wake up to you."

You pause and look at him. Your answer only seems to make his cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. They might as well be red at this point. Despite the silence, you know he's asking you to continue, explaining yourself for your horrendously sweet actions.

Oh, this may be a little embarrassing for you.

You clear your throat and gaze back to the album.

"It...does kinda suck being isekai'd into another world with no skills," you say half-heartedly. "I don't have to tell you how scary this world is. Even if I've been here for so long it's...not easy. I'm an outsider, a weirdo, a...magicless problem." You bite your tongue, refusing to continue on that. "But knowing I have someone who doesn't mind all that, who doesn't care that I'm not from here and loves me despite everything...it makes me happy. I know I'm not alone anymore, yeah, I have my friends, but you? It's different with you. I can wake up, see your smile, and know that it's real. That I can make you smile like that or just see it later. Knowing you’re here, in this world, waiting for me...it helps me get out of bed, you know?"

You didn't mean to go so deep even as you held back. Honestly, you hated having to hint at your loneliness and negativity. Not just because you're certain Idia preferred avoiding this type of thing, but it was just hard to talk about. You'd always be a foreigner, an alien in this world, and you just wanted to have something- someone that you could take comfort in. It was easier to pretend that you weren't from another world sometimes and Idia helped make you feel like you belonged.

A trembling hand comes into your field of vision. It snaps you out of your thoughts. Slowly, you reach out to meet with him. You give it a squeeze and look to meet his gaze. But you weren't expecting to see tears at the corners of his eyes.

"I-Idia?!"

"I'm that important to you?" He asks, quietly.

"You are," you breathe out, relieved. "You make me really happy. More than you know."

"You make me happy too..." He mumbles. He tries to relax, but how can he when his heart is ablaze? His hair sways, erratically, to match his heartbeat. Not that you would know, Sevens, he hopes you can't hear it. "S-Sorry, I can't always be with you, physically...but if you ever w-want reassurance...You're like super important to me. W-We can be weirdos together."

He tries, he really does. Words are already difficult in normie conversations and this just ups the difficulty to nightmare.

Nevertheless, you smile. For a moment, you think your eyes might match his, teary. Sometimes you consider yourself lucky. Not just for meeting Idia, but for being with him too. You found a kindred soul in more than one way. And you're so grateful that he loves you. He's become your safe place in this hell.

You lean your head against his shoulder. Idia flinches but relaxes shortly after. You feel him squeeze your hand.

"You can go back to your game, you know," you say in a quiet whisper. It didn't feel right to speak loudly, not yet.

"I-I'm okay...I don't mind staying like this for a bit..." He breathes, matching your quiet tone. "And I can play with one hand anyway," he adds offhandedly.

You chuckle and don't doubt him. Still, you stay like this, enjoying each other's comfortable silence.

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud x reader #gn reader #twst x reader #twst #idia shroud x you #ignihyde #request #anonymous stars

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vynegar · 1 year

Text

vyn rainy pickup SSR, part three

off to the market!

same disclaimer and notes from part one & two

youtube link to Sherry’s Game Notes‘ video of the card story

links to other parts: one & two

more tot translations here

do not repost

[PART THREE]

[11:07] Four-Gate Loop Marketplace

Back at the marketplace, I followed with the flow of people as I looked at the visitor map Master Zhou had given us. I felt a bit awkward at the moment.

MC: How about we first pick a place without too many people? Or somewhere that's a bit more open, so it won't be as crowded. Let's see... walking south would take us to the area with general stores. That would probably work. Vyn, what do you think?

There was no response. I turned around in confusion and saw Vyn watching a nearby salesperson. When I reached out and waved my hand in front of his face, he came back to his senses and helplessly grabbed my hand.

Vyn: We might as well be like the other visitors and abandon our plan, do as we please.

MC: Do as we please?

He took the visitor map from me and simply folded it a few times, putting it in his pocket.

Vyn: Based on the shape of the marketplace, we will reach the general store area sooner or later. Since we will not get lost, there is no need for a map.

MC: Okay, then I'll follow your lead. We'll go wherever you want to go.

Vyn: Uh, I...

Vyn froze. He looked around at the dizzying array of shops around us, for a long time not making a decision. I smiled and nudged him.

MC: No need to fret about it, how about I pick?

I walked forward, tugging Vyn along, when suddenly we heard a burst of cheers from beside us. Then..

MC: Huh?!

Vyn: MC, look out!

Everyone was rushing ahead toward something that we couldn't see. Vyn grabbed my arm and we struggled to stick together amidst the horde of people, forced to move along with the crowd.

MC: W-we're finally out!

When we had at last pushed through the mass of people, I breathed a deep sigh. Although Vyn's expression was the same as usual, his jacket had gotten slightly wrinkled.

MC: Vyn, maybe we should go home...

Vyn: What is wrong? Did you get pushed just now?

MC: I'm fine, you were blocking the other people for me... I'm worried that you’re uncomfortable with how packed it is.

I straightened out his wrinkled jacket. Vyn held my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Vyn: I am alright. Besides, it is still crowded up ahead. Even if we wanted to go back, we would still have to wait until the crowd thins out.

MC: Okay...

Vyn: MC, what is that?

While I was still looking around for another exit route, Vyn was looking in a different direction. Following his gaze, I saw a huge square-shaped fish tank with sign standing next to it, the words "GOLDFISH CATCHING" written in big letters.

MC: It's a kind of game. When I was a kid, I would play it a lot at night markets.

Right after I said it, I remembered how Vyn had received a noble education since he was a child, so he had probably never played this kind of game. Just as I thought, Vyn picked up the crude fishing pole next to us with a puzzled expression.

MC: The rules are simple: catch goldfish within the allotted time.

Vyn: Just using this kind of fishing pole? But if it is simply catching goldfish, it should not be difficult...

Aquarium shopkeeper: Haha, not necessarily.

Hearing our conversation, the aquarium shopkeeper chuckles and waves at us.

Aquarium shopkeeper: All of these fishing poles have all been adjusted so that catching fish is much harder than the games that kids play. However, there are valuable breeds of goldfish in the tank. If you can catch those ones, it's definitely good value for your money. How about it? You two interested?

Immediately after, we heard a plop. A goldfish had just been hooked and pulled up above the water, but it struggled free and fell back into the tank. The audience surrounding it all sighed, while the visitor playing the game scratched their head, looking vexed.

Vyn: Do you want to try?

Vyn handed me the fishing pole. Seeing how fascinated he was made me temporarily quash down my thoughts of leaving. However, instead of taking the fishing pole, I pushed it back toward Vyn.

MC: I'm an expert at catching goldfish, so this is no challenge for me. You should try.

Vyn: Hm? Me?

He fiddled with the fishing pole in his hands, nodding. When the previous person finished, we stood side-by-side next to the glass tank.

Vyn: Which one do you like?

MC: Hm... I like that goldfish with three colors. But the shopkeeper said it's a bit difficult, so how about going for a random one at first, just to try?

Vyn: No need. I will start with that one.

Vyn put the bait on the hook and lowered it into the water, his movements calm and practiced.

MC: (It doesn't seem hard at all.)

I couldn't help holding my breath as we waited for a goldfish to bite. However, while the audience had gradually dispersed and most of the bait had been eaten, Vyn was still unable to hook a single goldfish. The empty fishhook floated unsupported in the water. Vyn stared at the escaped goldfish, frowning slightly.

MC: (Vyn seems to be completely at a loss...)

I lowered my head, lips tightly pressed together to hide my smile, but I heard a faint sigh. A hand reached out from beside me and pinched my cheek.

Vyn: You can laugh if you want to.

MC: I thought such a simple game would be a piece of cake for you.

Vyn: Yes, I did not expect this either... that I would be bad at catching goldfish.

Perplexity flashed across Vyn's golden eyes. He looked down slightly, staring blankly at the goldfish swimming idly around. I immediately grabbed the fishing pole in his hand.

MC: Here, let me teach you. But just so you know, I charge tuition~

Vyn: Okay. What do you want?

MC: How about... you're in charge of dinner tonight!

As I spoke, I took the fishing pole from Vyn. After trying it a few times, I discovered that from a certain angle, the fishhook would stay secure. Soon, I caught my first goldfish.

MC: Great!

I put the goldfish in a bucket of water next to us and shifted closer to Vyn.

Vyn: What is it?

MC: This is a trade secret, so I have to tell you quietly.

I leaned in to Vyn’s ear and whispered the secret to the fishhook.

Vyn: Since it requires a specific angle and amount of force, do you need to personally demonstrate it for me?

Vyn gripped my hand that was holding the fishing pole and interlaced his fingers with mine, so that we were holding it together. I froze. Vyn looked down and laughed. He didn’t apply any force from his wrist, seeming to be waiting for my next move.

MC: No problem. I guarantee you’ll learn it

When we lowered the fishhook again, I gripped Vyn’s hand back, searching for the proper angle.

MC: This should be it.

I looked at Vyn, then realized that the whole time he had been focused on me instead of the fish tank. My every move was depicted in his gaze. My hand went slack, and just as the fishing pole was about to slip, Vyn raised our hands. The next second, that tricolored goldfish was lifted up out of the water by the hook. When our eyes met, it was as if the surroundings had been frozen in time, and I was a bit dazed.

Vyn: I caught the tricolored goldfish.

A smiled played at the edges of his lips. Suddenly I felt like I was the “goldfish” that Vyn had caught.

MC: Vyn, did you already know how to do this?!

Vyn: When I was watching you catch fish, I mostly figured it out.

MC: Yet you still…

Vyn smiled gently.

Vyn: Because I happened to want to be in charge of dinner too.

After figuring out the trick to it, we were successful with almost all the remaining bait, and the bucket quickly filled up with a considerable number of goldfish.

Aquarium shopkeeper: Very impressive you two, I’ve never seen anyone catch this many fish before. Should I help you pack them up?

MC: Yeah, thank you.

A while later, the shopkeeper gave me a clear plastic bag that was tied off at the top, so I could carry the goldfish as we continued browsing the marketplace. I rested the bag on my hand and brought it up to Vyn’s face. Several goldfish swam about happily inside, casting multi-colored reflections under the sunlight.

MC: How nostalgic! If I’d been able to catch such a pretty goldfish when I was a kid, I’m sure the others kids would’ve been jealous of me.

Vyn: When you were a kid, what other games would you play besides goldfish catching?

MC: Hm… Let me think. Games like shooting balloons and ring toss are all pretty common. Oh right! I saw a lot of them when we walked past just now. Here, let’s go play.

Vyn: Okay.

I quickly locked onto my target.

MC: Over there…

Drip – suddenly, a drop of rain fell on my face.

MC: Huh?

Thinking it was someone’s prank, I looked up, but the next moment raindrops were falling in a pitter-patter. Even though it was still warm and sunny outside, we could hear the faint sound of thunder and see dark clouds sweeping by in the distance. For a moment, everyone around us was busy either closing up their stalls or seeking shelter from the rain. Before I could react, this area that was safe from the rain became packed with people.

MC: It’s raining?! Vyn, we should find somewhere dry too…

I saw an awning in the distance and tried to grab Vyn to run over there, but my hand was met with thin air.

MC: Vyn?

[18:13]

Under the shroud of a small shadow, a familiar scent enveloped me. The damp sensation of raindrops stopped instantly. I turned around in surprise. At some point Vyn had shed his jacket and was now raising it partway, creating a shelter above us.

Vyn: Let us go. We should avoid the rain.

MC: Okay…

The rain had soaked the uneven ground tiles, so when I stepped on a loose one while running, the rainwater splashed up onto our ankles. I looked down and saw the muddy water on my ankles, as well as Vyn’s soaked pants legs.

MC: Your pants… Oh no, the goldfish!

The plastic bag began to shake with how vigorously we were running. I stiffly held my hand aloft, trying to keep my arm balanced as much as possible. I couldn’t help but slow my steps, causing me to bump Vyn’s arm by accident.

Vyn: …

MC: What are you laughing about?

Vyn: Seeing you so worried about the goldfish, I cannot help but think that you are cute.

MC: I’m already in a rush…

Vyn: Watch your step!

Splash – but I had already stepped into the puddle. The water extended up from my feet, and I could feel the wetness at my toes. It was such a sorry sight, but Vyn and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Vyn: The rain is getting heavier. This jacket will not last for much longer.

MC: Vyn, over there!

I pointed at an awning nearby.

Vyn: Let us make a run for it.

Facing the dense mist of rain, we ducked our heads and charged forward. The shadow cast by his shirt swayed along with Vyn’s running. The alarmed crowd, chaotic stalls, and torrential rain all flashed by in my peripheral vision. I heard a fleeting sound that masked the noise of all the surroundings, and then all that remained was the thumping of my heart and our gasps as we ran.

[END PART THREE]

[PART FOUR]

#tears of themis #vyn richter #tot vyn #mo yi #tot translation

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scribe-cas · 1 year

Note

hi!! happy (almost late) storytelling saturday!! tell me, what is it about your favorite oc that makes them your favorite?

i usually add here that you can talk about more than one if you can't choose a favorite, but i feel like here i should probably add feel free to use second favorite if you feel you've run out of explanations for why couteau's your beloved baby. alternatively, feel absolutely free to repeat yourself if you wanna, i will listen

HAPPY STORY TELLING SATURDAY (don’t worry it will be STS for me for another like,,, at least 7 hours)

That note shot me in the face seven times /pos and I laughed my ass off so thank you for that

“If you feel you’ve run out of explanations for why Couteau’s your beloved baby”

Oh my dear

Beloved morbo

You have only heard the tip of the iceberg

Let’s see

We’ve covered his shitty sense of humor (he is full of banter and i love him for that), his basic personality, his tendency to murder abusive men (massive plus in my opinion) and a little bit of his hyperempathy-

Okay so tbh. I will dive in to the deep stuff with you.

The reason Couteau is my precious little blorbo is because of what he represents.

He’s just a guy. And I love that he’s just. A character. Like he is so much all the time, and it makes me proud to have fleshed him out like a person.

Like, genuinely. He gets up and eats breakfast and he has a best friend who’s name is Gambit. They’re roommates.

He’s touch sensitive on his back. He likes hugging people from behind.

When he’s being vulnerable, he’ll come up and put his head on your shoulder because his parental figure used to own a cane, making her shorter than him, even while he was alive, and it was easier than hugging her.

He likes strawberry milkshakes.

He can dance. He’s an old man and his muscles hurt but he still plays Just Dance when Gambit takes out the gaming console.

He used to be in the circus.

He died at 15 and is only learning now that sometimes it’s okay to go back to that screaming little girl who couldn’t take the pressure of life and murmur “it’s okay. You did your best.”

He’s autistic and temporarily nonverbal. He speaks sign language.

He likes cold temperatures but warm blankets.

He only does hand to hand combat.

He sells milkshakes.

He’s trans.

He can do a backflip but his spine would snap and crackle.

He copes with panic attacks by laying down on his bathroom floor, a heater whirring, blowing directly on his back.

He leaves red roses behind with every body that he’s killed by accident.

He knows no amount of kindness will bring a person back, but treats each corpse with a quiet kind of respect.

He has long hair because that was the hair the first person he fell in love with had, and he’s got a scar on the side of his head.

He hates himself.

He finds a quiet comfortability in being a villain.

If you tell him he’s beautiful with your heart, he’ll have to fight not to cry.

He spat in God’s face for the person he cared about so much that he changed their fate.

He loves astrology.

Like how am I supposed to exist and not love a person like this.

He’s made to represent those of us who gave up our lives to the people we loved and never got payed back for it.

Someone wronged by the abuse of the world but who has chosen to let the abuse fester because he never stopped and realized he is abusing himself.

And in doing so, is tearing apart others.

He has hurt and been hurt and has turned to rage because if you are a monster, then nothing can hurt you worse than you can hurt yourself.

He tore himself apart in life giving, and is now forced to tear apart others in death.

He sees it as a punishment

But he chose it for himself.

God is simply trying to teach him how to take.

Giving is framed as a noble attribute. And it is.

But not when you have to tear yourself apart for it.

You owe what you can give. Nothing more.

You do not have to kill yourself to bring more to the table.

You are allowed to care for yourself.

It is not an act of selfishness, but self preservation.

He is meant to represent those of us who have fallen from the sky and are slowly growing and learning not to mistreat ourselves so that we will not mistreat the world.

The first book is a horror. A romance, but a twisted one.

Couteau’s story is one of self hatred.

And hopefully, by the end of it

It will become one of self love.

Hope this helps. <3

#couteau my beloved go back into your box #coutalk #bists #blood is sweeter than silence

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milfmacbeth · 2 years

Note

From Ur post about wasted potential in media... What r some of your fav examples of this ^__^

hi anon!

so when i made this post i was thinking about supernatural. other stories that are still rotting my brain even though they ended years ago and i really should be over it by now include (but aren’t limited to) the magnus archives, game of thrones, naruto, and pirates of the caribbean. all of these are stories i love(d) but they either ended badly or have some massive but easily fixable flaws which is why they drive me insane.

the short(ish) version: (disclaimer that this is only my opinion which is of course objectively correct and should be taken as gospel)

supernatural went on for too long, ended badly, and only ever scratched the surface of everything it could’ve been

the magnus archives seasons 1-4 are damn near perfect and season 5 is… there.

game of thrones season 8. (do i even need to say anything about this one!?)

naruto suffers because of kishimoto’s misogyny and because the wrong characters die/survive

pirates of the caribbean should’ve been a trilogy and we all know elizabeth should’ve ended up a pirate

the unreasonably long and extremely spoilery version under the cut (you have been warned)

supernatural: by tumblr standards i’m downright normal about spn but i did watch every episode at least once and i was obsessed with it as a teen so i’m not really one to talk. i’m following someone who’s just now getting into it and who has some very good takes (specifically about dean and john), and i’m being dragged back into the fandom kicking and screaming…

ANYWAY

supernatural starts out as a monster of the week thing but then the plot thickens and you’ve got angels and demons and lucifer and the end of the fucking world and even though the later seasons have their moments, i’m a “supernatural should’ve ended with season 5” truther.

and don’t even get me started on the winchesters. it’s like… you have a deliciously fucked up family dynamic, including codependency, incest-subtext, and two brothers who would end the world for each other. god as an absentee father-figure who will not save you. free will. characters that have witnessed history. an angel who almost stepped on the first fish crawling out of the sea, who dragged a man out of hell and fell for him in every sense of the word. the humanity of the monstrous. the inhumanity of the divine. magic. americana. mythology. empty roads and neon signs and dilapidated motels. Death who tells dean that he will reap god when the time comes. i know i’m not being particularly coherent but no one can tell me that what we actually got was the best they could do when they had ALL THIS to work with. and the fandom gets it. the fic and meta writers get it. i’ve seen so many transcendent takes by supernatural girlies whose third eye is wide fucking open. i know it’s possible. supernatural’s problem is that it was written by straight us-american men and aired on the cw. in conclusion, make it darker and grittier and let dean say fuck.

that being said, even though it was garbage storytelling, i will never forget the wonderful night of mass hysteria that was the 5th of november, and i almost choked laughing when i saw dean get nailed by a vampire clown and sam in the shittiest wig imaginable. probably not the intended audience reaction though. (you’re better off just ignoring that 15.20 happened at all)

the magnus archives (season 5): oh boy where do i even begin? i rarely talk about this anymore because it just makes me so angry and i’m not having any fun. i like to pretend that season 5 doesn’t exist which works excellently because while the first 4 seasons are a cohesive narrative whole, season 5 feels like it’s tacked on at the end. (“do i like this story more if i just ignore the ending happened” is a very good question to ask yourself regarding the quality of a finale).

the magnus archives season 5 has several problems, some of which don’t even concern the narrative but are instead fuckery related to the story. i’ll get those out of the way first.

first of all, the fandom is the most vile cesspit of people with no media comprehension i’ve ever had the misfortune to be in. among such hits as “why is Bad Person treated with sympathy” and “why is the horror podcast about horror and not about gay shipping”, what bothers me most are the headcanons treated as law.

i’ve personally witnessed takes like “daisy is bad representation for butch lesbians” (daisy is not canonically a lesbian or butch. the fandom made that up), and “jon is brown therefore xyz portrayal is racist” (again, jon’s skin color is never mentioned. him being brown is just the most popular HEADcanon). why am i telling you this in this already way too long post? this might be conjecture but i really believe that if the fandom wasn’t so godawful, the story could’ve been better. the creators caved to fandom pressure. this is one of the best examples of why there needs to be a boundary between audience and creator and why the fandom should have absolutely NO say whatsoever when it comes to what happens in the story.

the other thing that’s a bit meta and not in the story per se are the promises the creators made. jonny sims said two things:

1. the story will end in tragedy: it didn’t. the ending was ambiguous and i wanted it to leave me devastated the way the s4 finale did. instead it left me indifferent and vaguely confused.

2. there will be no romance and if there is, it’s not going to be the focus of the story: so that was a fucking lie. season 5 is nothing but jonmartin shoved into your face for 40 episodes. a lot of aros, aces and people who were there for the horror and not for the shipping were understandably disappointed

now, as for the actual story ,i’m a “jon should’ve had a corruption arc” truther. (here's a thing i did). i think it would fit with his character development since he’s been getting more monstrous with every season. elias has been manipulating jon into becoming an avatar of the Beholding and ending the world, and jon hates him for it. jon kills elias and takes his place and if they just stuck with that, with elias being destroyed by the god he created and jon ascending to be the fucked up evil king of a ruined world. fuck, it would’ve been so good. it would’ve been so delicious i’m going insane every time i think about it. this is the secret good season 5 that lives in my head.

instead they went with parallel universes, which is a concept that you probably shouldn’t introduce 3 episodes before the ending. it’s not a bad concept at all. they could’ve done it justice. but making parallel fucking universes the thing on which your finale hinges even though you’ve barely introduced them? yeah i’m gonna go ahead and call that an ass pull. it turns out that the Web has been manipulating everyone blah blah who cares the important part is this: the Web wins. the Web gets what it wants and this could’ve worked if it was framed and presented to us LIKE A TRAGEDY. it’s not. it’s presented like a bittersweet ending. the morality of the finale is extremely protagonist-centric (and by season 5 i started to hate everyone except jon). the protagonists decide to release the Fears, dooming a potentially infinite number of people to a life of horror, but fuck those guys, right? the important thing is that the protagonists are okay. i’m going to fight jonny sims in a parking lot.

one last thing. jonmartin fucking sucks. but it doesn’t have to. jon and martin don’t know each other. they’re completely incompatible. they’re together out of guilt and circumstance. they’re dysfunctional and they’re very realistically dysfunctional. i personally ship jonelias. don’t worry this is not about a shipping war, but one thing i’ve noticed is that jonelias is fucked up in an “i’ve made you a monster and then a god. i’ve used you to bring about the apocalypse” kind of way which i’m guessing not many people have personal experience with. jonmartin is fucked up in a “we’re not communicating and we’re only together because neither of us wants to be alone” way. that’s relatable. hell, that’s depressingly common. jon doesn’t love martin, he just wants to cling to his humanity. martin doesn’t love jon, he loves the idea of jon. THAT’S POTENTIAL! take that and work with it. what did they do instead? gave me a pairing of two people who absolutely should not be together, shoved it into my face for dozens of episodes, and then portrayed jealousy and miscommunication like something cute and romantic. literally what the fuck are they on.

game of thrones: *deeep sigh* ok there are about a billion 3hour video essays detailing everything wrong with season 8 but the main things for me are:

jon is a targaryen. he’s azor ahai. his is the song of ice and fire. and NONE OF THAT FUCKING MATTERS OH MY GOD AT LEAST LET JON DO SOMETHING LITERALLY ANYTHING EXCEPT STANDING AROUND REPEATING THE SAME TWO LINES AD NAUSEAM.

daenerys descent into madness and villainy could’ve been great if it had been properly set up instead of done in a minute (this is not an exaggeration. her character goes from “slightly mentally unstable” to “war criminal putting a city of innocent people to the torch” in ONE minute. i counted.)

i read the books and euron greyjoy is so fucking cool in the books. i don’t know who the fuck that other guy is but it certainly ain’t him.

arya killing the night king and bran becoming king. i wish i could say something funny or insightful but i genuinely have no words.

naruto: it’s been a while since i watched naruto. i’ve seen plenty of male writers being shitty but i’ve never seen misogyny drag a story down quite this much. personally, i’m done making excuses for this shit. if you can’t write women, you’re a bad writer. period.

the problem with naruto is that the women are literally just... there. doing absolutely fuck all and being generally useless. this is not even a matter of social justice, this is a matter of storytelling. even if you’re the biggest macho dudebro around you’ll have to admit that one third of your cast standing around and being incompetent doesn’t make for a very interesting story, does it now?

and then there’s the matter of madara being nerfed in favor of kaguya. yeah… that one was an ass pull.

but what bothers me most is that the wrong characters die or don’t die respectively. some examples:

hinata should’ve died (instead of “almost died”) when pain attacked konoha. it would’ve made her sacrifice more meaningful and she would’ve come back one way or another. in my opinion she should’ve stayed dead for good because her arc was mostly done by that point and she doesn’t really do much after that except cheer on naruto (see misogyny above)

when madara fought the five kage, he almost killed all of them. keyword almost. i get that tsunade is a good healer but that fight would’ve been more meaningful if someone (literally any ONE of the kage) had actually died.

gai should’ve died. listen, you can’t build up the 8th gate as this super special technique that you can do only once because it costs your life and then not have gai die. it cheapens the entire thing. what was the fucking point?

neji should’ve LIVED. a monumental part of his character arc was realizing that he’s worth just as much as the main family and that he doesn’t have to be subservient to hinata. and then he sacrifices himself for hinata. yeah that felt like one step forward two steps back.

in conclusion: kishimoto needs to drink his respect women juice and learn when to kill characters and when to let them live.

pirates of the caribbean: i tend to ignore that part 4 and 5 even exist. please let the franchise die i am begging.

i don’t have that many examples of wasted potential but you can’t tell me that PIRATE KING elizabeth swann would stay on land being a good housewife. fuck no.

so yeah. i’m done. thank you for asking, this was a lot of fun to answer and i hope you enjoyed Do You Love The Color Of My Incoherent Ramblings

#i think one of the biggest sources of wasted potential is telling the audience something but showing them something else #you can often guess what the narrative wants you to think #and how something is framed/presented by the narrative is just as important as what actually happens #if something fucked up happens then i want the narrative to either acknowledge it's fucked up #or (much better) stay neutral and let me make up my own mind #but don't give me something fucked up and then act like it's Good and Righteous

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