#painting complicated lighting for no reason at all

[quona]

one thousand and one nights ----

LOOK AT ALL THESE FABRICS I PAINTED (faint sobbing in the background) This piece is for the Good Omens Minisode Minibang, wherein my lovely author, Dashicra (@ineffableomenshusbands) wrote a WONDERFUL fanfic of femAziracrow in the world of Arabian Nights that I encourage you to all go read right this instant. (Rated M, nothing kinky but, as always, mind the tags)

Full size and detail shots after the jumpppppppppppppppp ⬇️

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

[hopesworlld]

౨ৎ oh ! dear diary, we fell in love !

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — step!bro anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — the aftermath of your stepbrother anakin finding your diary brings some unexpected results

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 5k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, stepcest, smoking, shotgunning, mean!ani, smut ( making out, degradation, praise, pussy slapping, choking, panties as a gag, ani calls reader a slut and a bitch, nipple play, hair pulling, riding, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, stomach bulge, public sex, car sex, reader is a bit of an exhibitionist, biting, but also body worship, dry humping and soft soppy sex ) think that's all, wow

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — stepbro!anakin has my heart and my soul, also i had sm fun with this little mini series i'll deffo do more in the future !

part one part two masterlist

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the weeks of summer seemed to fly by after anakin’s post-sex confession, claiming you as his, it was a complicated situation with your parents being completely oblivious to the fact that anakin would now spend most nights in your bedroom buried deep in your pussy, hand covering your mouth to muffle the moans that fell from your lips. it was wrong, so so wrong, but how could you stop? how could you ever move on when you knew what anakin’s lips tasted like, what it felt like to have his dick imprinted on your cervix, the taste of his cum. you couldn’t, despite all the doubts you couldn’t move on. 

“angel,” anakin called entering your bedroom with a silly smirk twisted on his lips, you span turning to face the boy eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“ani, you’re home,” you grinned, quickly crossing the room to meet him in the middle, slinging your arms around his shoulders, anakin swept you up, arms twining around your hips and spinning you in a small circle making you giggle. 

“promised you i would be back early tonight,” he murmured into your hair, carrying you over to your bed and setting you down on it, following after you and tugging you onto his lap, his back resting against the headboard.

“i know,” you said dragging out the w, “but usually early for you is midnight, it's only…” you leaned over grabbing your phone from your bedside table, “seven,” you gasped, “who are you and what have you done to my anakin?” 

“your anakin?” the boy asked with a wide smirk, “oh baby i like the sound of that,” his words made you flush but you rolled your eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly making the boy chuckle, leaning down and planting a butterfly kiss on your neck. “but i’m back early for a reason, i finished your dad’s old car today and i…” you don’t let him finish, spinning around with a wide smile painted across your lips.

“you did? that’s so great, ani! why didn’t you tell me earlier when i saw you?” you asked him with wide eyes and the boy laughed again. 

“if you would let me finish,” he scolded teasingly, “i would have told you but i wanted it to be a surprise because i’m taking you out tonight, so get dressed, we are going on a date,” your lips parted in surprise, gazing at anakin with stars in your eyes. 

“really?” you asked him, “oh, ani, that’s so sweet,” you cried, planting soft kisses all over his face before finally meeting his lips. the kiss was soft and slow, nothing akin to the messy kisses you shared in moments of passion, no, this was sweet, a promise of something more as you shared a moment of intimacy. 

“come on, angel, hurry up, we don’t wanna miss it,” anakin said pulling away from you regretfully and helping you up, swatting your ass playfully as you headed over to your wardrobe and began rummaging through your clothes.

“where are we going?” you ask curiously as you pulled out a yellow skirt and held it over your hips looking at anakin with your head cocked to the side but he simply grinned. 

“it’s a surprise,” was all he said, before grabbing your diary from your bedside table and flicking through it, it had become your new normal that anakin would take your diary, a thing that you had got to expose your deepest darkest secrets, but now he had stripped you bare, seen every part of your soul, tasted the darkness upon your lips and embraced it. there was no way to explain it other than anakin was simply yours, your soulmate, your relationship was something real and tangible, you could feel it when he looked at you when his hands traced your skin. it was more than lust, more than some fucked up idea of romeo and juliet, this was it for you. 

“i hate surprises,” you grumbled as you tugged a pink bando top from your wardrobe, it was ruffled with a little bow that sat between your breasts. 

“i know,” anakin said, and you could hear the smile in his voice even if you were turned away from him. it didn’t take you long to get ready, pulling on your new clothes along with a pretty pair of pink kitten heels and fluffing your hair out, makeup from earlier still intact so with a spritz of perfume you were ready. 

“if you are taking me to see that new horror film i will stomp on your dick and leave you there,” you told him, spinning around and slinging your purse over your shoulder, anakin blinked at you, looking a little dazed before shaking his head quickly and standing up, his shirt had ridden up revealing the little cluster of hickeys you had left on his v line a few nights before.

“such a way with words, angel,” anakin complimented, walking over and planting a kiss on your glossy lips. 

“only for you, ani,” you teased with a grin, grasping his hand and letting him lead you from your bedroom and down the steps, it felt like only yesterday that anakin had cornered you on the landing, teasingly calling you out for your dirty thoughts and now here you were holding hands and being led on a date, you were practically giddy as anakin ushered you into the car, shutting the door behind you before heading over to the driver's side. 

“ready?” he asked you and you nodded, the drive was short, only about fifteen minutes spent with you mindlessly singing along with the radio while anakin focused, driving down dirt roads until he pulled into a place you knew all to well. 

“the drive in theater?” you asked, eyes glimmering as you turned to face anakin, a wide smile spread across your lips and anakin’s face flushed, a shy grin curling as he nodded, pulling into one of the spaces at the back and shutting the car off. 

“they’re playing ‘cruel intentions’ and i know it’s one of your favourites,” anakin said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, you had never seen him like this, cheeks rosy and eyes bright and it only made your little heart glow brighter. 

“anakin, this is amazing,” you told him, “no one has ever done anything like this for me before,” you confessed, watching as anakin’s lips pursed. 

“i don’t wanna say good because you deserve to be treated like this always, but i’m also happy to be the only guy who knows how to treat you well,” and there he was again, your anakin, you rolled your eyes at him and leaned back in your seat. 

“always the charmer,” you chided and anakin winked at you. 

“anything for my girl,” my girl, fuck. 

the ticket holder came around a few moments later and anakin flashed him the tickets on his phone and you two were left alone once again, you were pleasantly surprised when anakin pulled out a diet coke from the back of the car and handed it to you, taking a fanta for himself as the movie began. you tried to focus you really did, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that anakin was right there, only inches away from you, he wasn’t even touching you but every nerve in your body seemed aware of the fact that he was beside you in the darkened car. so when you saw him pull out a carton of cigarettes from his pocket and slip one between his plump pink lips, you couldn’t help it anymore. 

“hey, ani…” you said softly and anakin tilted his head to face you, flicking his lighter on and inhaling deeply, lighting the end of the cigarette. 

“yes, babe?” he asked curiously before taking another drag, you watched the tendrils of smoke curl from his lips and float into the air and your mouth went dry. 

“can i… can i try?” you asked, gesturing at the cigarette balanced between his two fingers with the casual grace of someone who did this often. 

“you wanna smoke?” anakin asked you with raised brows, “never took you as a smoking girl, baby,” he pointed out and you flushed, eyes flicking down to your hands before going back to anakin, holding his gaze as firmly as you could. 

“i’m not,” you shrugged, “just wanna know what it’s like,” you said and anakin nodded in understanding, holding his hand out for you to take the cigarette from him, clumsily you pinched it between your thumb and forefinger, careful not to burn yourself as you tried your best to position it between your fingers as anakin had, trying to ignore the way he chuckled at you. 

“come here, babe,” anakin said, reaching over and twirling the smoke between your fingers so that it was perched right, “you know what you are doing?” he asked you and you pouted defiantly. 

“just suck, right?” you asked, scowling when anakin laughed once again. 

“it’s not a dick,” he snickered, marveling in the way your flush grew darker, “it’s kinda like sucking, more just inhaling, just wrap your lips around the end and breathe in, and you gotta let it hit the back of your throat, okay, you just let the smoke in your mouth and it's gonna make you cough,” he instructed and you nodded at him, anxiety pooled in your stomach as you brought the cigarette to your lips, the tip was already slightly wet from anakin’s own lips so you did as you were told and inhaled, instantly you felt it, the burn of hot smoke searing your mouth and sweeping down your throat, you yanked the cigarette from your mouth and coughed, it wracked your frame, little gasps escaping as you tried to soothe the searing heat. 

“easy,” anakin murmured, taking the smoke from your hand and rubbing your back. 

“that was disgusting,” you spluttered, eyes watering. 

“poor baby,” anakin cooed unapologetically and you glared at him. 

“fuck you,” you groaned, “i didn’t think it was gonna be that bad,” you huffed, taking a large gulp of coke to try and rid your mouth of the vile taste. 

“maybe we should have started you with a vape,” anakin chuckled as he took another drag with ease, “think this was a little intense for your little inexperience throat,” he crooned and your glare hardened. 

“my throat is not inexperienced,” you hissed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“come on, i wanna try something,” anakin said leaning forward, you wanted to ignore him but curiosity got the best of you so you tilted your head to face him, watching as he grinned at you, “we are gonna shotgun, okay?” he said and you furrowed your brows. 

“shotgun?” you asked curiously. 

“yea, i’ll take a drag and then blow it into your mouth, it’ll soften the hit if i’ve already smoked it,” he said, gesturing for you to sit up like he was, you followed his actions, leaning over the controls and parting your lips, watching as anakin took a long drag, inhaling deeply before grasping your chin, and pressing your lips together, exhaling the smoke into your mouth, you inhaled, allowing the smoke to swirl down your throat, it still tastes gross, the bitter mix of smoke and tobacco but it wasn’t as strong and you were able to take it without choking. when anakin pulled away you exhaled, smiling proudly. 

“i did it,” you chimed, “can we do it again?” you asked and anakin nodded, taking another drag of the cigarette and bringing your mouth back to his, it was strange to have anakin’s lips there but not kissing you, instead feeling him breathe smoke into your mouth, but something about it was strangely erotic as you shared a smoke, the bitter toxins that burned his lungs being transferred to you, it was stupid but it made your insides flutter as you pulled back only slightly and breathed out, a veil of smoke fluttering between you and anakin. 

“ani…” you whispered, but anakin already knew, he tossed the cigarette from his window and crashed his lips to yours, the taste of smoke staining your lips as he plunged his tongue deep into your mouth, exploring every inch of you and you were more than happy to let him, hands coming up and threading in anakin’s hair, pulling him closer. the kiss was messy, teeth clacking as you tried to force yourselves closer across the console, anakin’s hands sliding down your hips, grasping tightly at the meat of your hips causing your skirt to ride up flashing your pretty pink panties beneath. 

“these for me?” anakin asked, pulling away from your lips, gaze trailing down to your underwear, curling his finger around the string of your thing and tugging it, letting it snap against your skin, you moaned at the sharp sensation and anakin’s replying grin was almost animalistic. “my little pain slut,” he crooned, doing it again and watching as you shivered, thighs rubbing together. 

“ani, i’m…” you groaned, pushing yourself up again and connecting your lips once again, anakin’s hands slid down your thighs, grasping them tightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles and he bit down on your lip and sucked it into his mouth until your bottom lip felt swollen and tender, you cried out at the sensation, addicted to the dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure that he gave you. 

“you are so responsive,” anakin muttered against your lips, hand trailing upwards to your clothed cunt, cupping it in his large hand, you bucked against him, desperate for some sort of relief, your clit burned against the lacey fabric of your thong and you wanted nothing more than for anakin to tear it from your body and force himself into your wet heat. 

“only for you,” you replied and anakin chuckled, slowly beginning to drag the heel of his hand up and down over your cunt, pressing against your clit, you throbbed against him, hands tightening in his hair, you wanted him closer. 

“my good girl,” anakin said pinching at the skin of your inner thigh with his thumb and forefinger, palm still working on your clit, “does whatever i want don’t you, angel,?” 

“yes, yes, anything,” you agreed breathlessly. 

“good,” anakin said flashing you a smirk, “cuz right now i want you to ride me okay, baby,” he commanded, your head darted upwards, as though suddenly remembering that you were in public, there were many cars scattered around but anakin had managed to pick a pretty secluded spot for the pair of you but still, if anyone were to walk by they would see exactly what the pair of you were doing and you couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline that trickled down your spine and the thought of fucking anakin right here, right now. 

“now?” you asked wanting to confirm your suspicions and anakin nodded his head, so awkwardly you clambered over the middle of the car, stretching one leg to balance as you sank down over anakin, your hands coming up to cling to the headrest of his seat as you swung your other leg over and planted yourself on anakin’s lap. 

“knew you would like this,” anakin chuckled, “my perfect girl, so desperate to get fucked she’ll do anything,” he teased, grasping the back of your neck and pulling you into a dirty kiss, all tongue and spit, you almost lost it when anakin wrapped his lips around your tongue and suckled on the organ, the sensation mixed with your desperation had you grinding helplessly on anakin’s lap, skirt now positioned around your hips leaving your panties fully on show, if anyone were to come over right now they would be able to see the wetness staining anakin’s black jeans as it seeped through your underwear. “fuck, baby,” anakin said, hand drifting back to your underwear, “making a mess all over me,” he grinned. 

“why don’t you do something about it then?” you asked him, locking eyes. 

“brat,” anakin hissed through his teeth, “got a lot to say when you’ve got nothing inside you, don’t you, angel, all switches up when you get my cock though,” he ground out, “please ani, let me come, please, please, please,” he mocked your voice with a silly high pitched tone that made your cheeks burn, pouting at him you shook your head. 

“you’re not any different,” you argued, “always act so nice once you’re inside me, getting pussy drunk and telling me i’m yours” you scoffed and anakin growled, hand raising and wrapping around your throat and squeezing, not enough to cut off airflow. still, it was tight enough that you spluttered out a gasp for air and looked at him with eyes. 

“wanna be a bitch and i’ll fucking treat you like one,” anakin growled, “think you own me? can talk to me like that? think again, babe, you are mine, my girl, my fucktoy, okay?” he asked, not letting you respond, instead using the hand on your neck to bob your head up and down for you. he let go of your neck, shoving you back so that your shoulders collided with the dashboard behind you, you hissed in pain but anakin only smirked, reaching down and tearing your panties from your body. literally. he tore the fabric like it was nothing while you could only watch in awe. “but this is what you wanted isn’t it? need me to put you in your place and deal with that slutty pussy,” he said, trailing his fingers down your sopping cunt and you whined, bucking your hips greedily, anakin rolled his eyes at your action and suddenly he was bringing his hand down, slapping you cunt harshly, you knew it was supposed to be a punishment, but the delicious mix of stinging pleasure on your clit and white-hot heat against you needy hole had you moaning loudly. 

“holy shit,” anakin gaped, looking stunned, “you really are a pain slut, you fucking like this?” he asked with a scoff, slapping your pussy once again, watching as you cried out, mouth falling open and your eyes rolling back, he slapped you again, harder and you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks but you didn’t want him to stop. “tell me,” anakin hissed, “you wanna cum like this?” he questioned and you nodded. “speak,” he spat. 

“yes, wanna cum like this, ani, i love it,” you cried out. 

“fucking disgusting,” anakin laughed, landing another two consecutive slaps on your cunt gleefully. you were a mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your body screaming in pleasure as you collapsed down onto the dashboard, legs spread on anakin’s lap, he reached up, tugging your top down and exposing your breasts and giving both your nipples a quick pinch before going back to your pussy, using one hand to spread you open for him as he slapped you again, this one ever more intense now that you were so exposed to him, a scream fell from your lips and anakin was quick to shove your torn panties into your mouth. “you trying to get us caught?” he spat, “shut up and take it,” and he slapped your clit once again, so hard that your body physically recoiled, but it was enough, the sensation was enough to send you spiraling, coming all over anakin’s lap, pussy dribbling cum as you sobbed into your makeshift gag. 

“fuck, babe,” anakin said, gazing up at you, “did you even know you were into that?” he asked tugging your panties from your mouth and you shook your head, dazed as your cunt convulsed around nothing, still desperate to be filled even after just cumming. “so fucking hot,” anakin groaned, yanking you down to kiss him, “gotta be inside you, baby,” he said, hands fiddling with his jeans and you nodded frantically, as he pulled his cock out, it was rock hard and flushed an angry red, worked up after playing with you for so long. 

“fuck me, ani, fuck me,” you pleaded earning a snicker from anakin. 

“so fucking desperate,” he said, but he wasn’t complaining as he grabbed your hips and lined himself up with your entrance, and sank deep inside of you, you had never ridden anakin before and you could see why, you could feel him everywhere, as though his cock was literally deep in your stomach, it ached and you fucking loved it. 

“oh, oh, anakin, fuck, you’re so deep,” you cried, slumping forward into his awaiting arms. 

“yea, angel, right up in your guts aren’t i,” he sounded proud as he used your hips to guide you, bouncing you on his cock, you had thought anakin couldn’t fuck you any better but right now he was literally all you could feel, you looked down and sure enough you could see the bulge of his cock against your stomach. 

“ani,” you gasped, pointing down to it, and anakin’s jaw slacked. 

“holy shit, look at that,” he grinned, “literally got me in your stomach, angel girl, gonna pump you full today okay, babe, don’t have any condoms, wasn’t expecting you to get so desperate for my cock in a drive-in,” he said, thrusting his hips upwards, you helped him as best as you could, lifting your hips, swirling them slightly trying to find a good rhythm but everything felt so good. but anakin didn’t seem to mind, even from this position he was jackhammering into you, cock plunging into your pussy like it was made just for you, your head fell back, unable to hold yourself together, hands clinging desperately to anakin’s shoulders. 

“i think i’m gonna cum again,” you gasped. 

“you wanna cum again? go ahead, baby, come for me, want you to soak my cock,” he prompted rocking his hips against yours, you came harshly, dark spots appearing behind your eyelids, you were vaguely aware of anakin’s hand pressing over your mouth to silence your screams as he fucked you through it, but not stopping as you came too. his brow was soaked with sweat and you could tell by his furrowed brows that he wasn’t going to last much longer, especially as your cunt spasmed around him. “never met someone so fucking insatiable,” anakin groaned, thrusts becoming erratic. 

“and you never will,” you murmured, voice weak as anakin continued his assault on your body but you wouldn’t let him stop, you needed him to cum inside of you, to fill you with his seed until it was seeping down onto the leather interior of the seats. 

“fuck, no, you’re stuck with me forever,” anakin ground out, you could feel him twitching inside of you, you leant forward, kissing his neck, trailing down from his jawline to his sweet spot where his neck and shoulder met and bit down, anakin cried out, hips shuddering and he was cumming, thick hot cum spurting deep inside of you, claiming you as his, you gasped soundlessly against anakin’s neck as you both settled. “you’re insane,” anakin groaned finally after a few minutes. 

“so are you,” you replied with a small grin and anakin nodded in agreement. 

“wanna get out of here?” anakin asked you and you laughed. 

“bit late for that now isn’t it, ani,” and he laughed along with you, running a hand through his messy waves. 

“fuck, i can’t believe we just did that,” he said, glancing around, luckily he couldn’t see anyone lurking around but he wouldn’t be surprised if you were loud enough to have caught someone’s attention. 

“you were mean,” you murmured. 

“yea, and you fucking loved it didn’t you, angel,” anakin grinned and you bashfully buried your face into the crock of his neck, heart fluttering as his big arms wrapper around you and held you close, “you know i don’t mean it right, you are perfect, just like seeing you get all riled up,” he said, lips pressed to your ear, his words like the confession of a sinner to a saint. 

“i know,” you hummed against his neck, parting your lips and sucking the skin there gently, giggling when you heard anakin groan. 

“brat,” anakin groaned, “i am not fucking you in this car again its gonna take me forever to get the cum off of the seats,” he sighed, grasping your hair and tugging your head back so you were looking at him, faces only inches apart.

“take me home then,” you said, pressing a kiss to anakin’s swollen lips, savouring the taste of salt and smoke before be pulled away with a smirk, so utterly beautiful even in the cover of darkness. 

“you got it, baby,” he winked, helping you into your own seat before throwing the car into reverse and speeding out of the drive in. 

arriving home you headed back to your room while anakin cleaned the car up, you quickly changed into one of anakin’s t-shirts before slipping into bed, burying yourself beneath the blankets as you waited for anakin, flicking through your phone, you had just began to doze when you heard your bedroom door open and in anakin walked clad in only a pair of grey sweatpants that hung dangerously low around his hips, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead. he didn’t say anything, simply getting in beside you and wrapping his arms around you, you rolled over, laying your head on anakin’s chest. 

“i got you something,” anakin said after a few moments. 

“you did?” you asked, tilting your head up to face him, he leant down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“it’s…” he murmured, “it’s kinda sappy i just… here,” he was nervous, it made your heart flutter as you sat up, taking a small box from him and opening it up, inside was a delicate silver locket shaped like a heart, your lips parted as you picked it up, it was cool against your skin, as you looked closer you could see something engraved and your heart soared. 

“ani, these are our initials,” you said, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“yea, i… uh, i did it myself in the garage, i found the necklace at that antique shop in town and i just thought…” anakin fell silent, awkwardly shuffling on the bed, tears welled in your eyes as you held the necklace up, it glimmered in the dim lighting of your bedroom.  “you hate it,” anakin snapped, reaching out to grab the necklace but you shoved his hand away. 

“don’t be stupid,” you told him, “i love it, ani, so much,” tears trickled down your cheeks and anakin’s face softed, he reached out cupping your cheek, brushing away the crystalline tears that stained your face, “help me put it on,” you asked, holding the jewlery out to him and anakin accepted, unclasping the chain, you span around, holding your hair up so that he could loop it around your neck. it rested just above your breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as you turned back to look at anakin. 

“what do you think?” you asked him with a small smile and anakin melted, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. it was soft, easy and his lips glided across yours, gentle pecks that lead way to longer, deep kisses and soon his tongue was sliding across your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you gave it easily, arms coming up around anakin’s shoulders. sweetly he twisted you in his hold, rolling over so that you were pressed against the plush pillows, body sinking into the mattress as anakin hovered atop of you. 

“i meant it, you know,” he said, pulling away from your lips and trailing kisses down your neck, “you are my girl, i don’t just say it because i wanna fuck you, you mean so much to me, angel,” he tells you and you nod, running your fingers through his hair. 

“i know, i know, ani,” you say before his lips are back on yours, you can feel the promise on his lips as his sinks deeper into you, so close you could feel every inch of his body on yours, his chest pressed against yours, your legs twined and lips meeting, you loved it, loved him more than anything and you knew that now. 

“baby,” he cooed, “baby, i’m gonna make love to you, okay,” anakin said, pulling back with flushed cheeks, “wanna treat you right, okay, i can’t find the words, i gotta…” he stumbled over his thoughts, eyes flashing with desperation as he looked down at you, eyes falling on the locket and he exhaled deeply, reaching out and taking it between two fingers. 

“it’s okay,” you reassured him, cupping his cheek, “show me, ani, want you too,” you pleaded and anakin nodded, connecting your lips once again, it was still slow, innocent brushes of lips but anakin’s hand sunk beneath your t-shirt, tugging it up, you helped him pull it over your head leaving you bare for him. 

“so pretty,” he whispered, trailing his fingertips along the valley of your breasts, leaning down and kissing them both adoringly, you shivered beneath his touch, “my gorgeous girl,” he said, cupping your breasts, circling his thumb around your nipples eliciting a soft moan from you, your necklace glittered where it lay on your chest and you could tell anakin loved seeing it, maybe even more than when he would mark you, because while the bruises would heal, this was permanent, a solid reminder that you were his and he was yours. 

“ani,” you said, and his eyes flashed to yours, so full of love that it made your heart weep and your core ache, “need you, ani, please,” you begged and he nodded, grasping the bands of his sweatpants and revealing his half hard cock, tip already sticky and shiny, you ushered him up the bed and pulled him in for a hard kiss, hands tracing the muscles on his back, drawing him in, closer, closer. his cock settled against your core, cock head bumping against your clit and making you shudder. 

“gonna take it slow, okay, angel?” anakin said, kissing your cheek, grinding his cock against your cunt, soaking it in your juices, you moaned but nodded, allowing anakin to do what he needed as he gently pumped his hips against yours. “wanna stay like this forever,” he hummed breathily. 

“sounds perfect,” you said, swooping down and dropping kisses along anakin’s collar bone, finger’s still drifting down his spine as he reached down and grasped his cock now fully hard and lined it up with your entrance. you locked eyes and anakin waited until you smiled at him, a beautiful thing, like the first rays of sunlight before he eased himself inside of you. you would never get used to how full anakin made you feel, completely filling you up and leaving your body swelling with warmth. his thrusts were slow, sliding all the way into the hilt before pulling out leaving you gasping, whiney moans slipping from your lips. 

“baby,” anakin rasped, “fuck, feels so good,” he said. 

“ani,” you breathed, “don’t let me go,” you pleaded, as anakin’s thumb came down, swirling around your clit in swift but delicate motions, coxing you to an orgasm. 

“never,” he promised, you stayed like this, lovingly locked together, body’s connected and lips locked until you both came, you gasped and whined, legs locking around anakin’s hips, keeping him there even after he had finished, not ready for him to leave yet and he was more than happy to stay buried between your thighs as you came down together, twin flames burning in a miracle high. 

“i love you, anakin,” you whispered, voice stark against the silence and anakin’s returning grin made it all worth it. 

“i love you, angel girl,” that was all that needed to be said, you had fallen but it was okay, because anakin was falling too, keeping you safe in his warm embrace as the world fell away. 

/ anakin said he loved me today, well i said it first be he said it back, not love you too or same or whatever, he said i love you. this was so wrong when it started but now, how can there be anything wrong with love? this is forever, i know it now, and i’m never letting it go. 

/ anakin came to me today, he’s going to transfer uni’s to one a few states over and he wants me to do the same, that way we can be together and no one will have to know. we can be a normal couple, go on dates and not have to worry. we will have to tell our parents eventually but for now this is what we have and i couldn’t be happier. 

/ me and ani moved in together today, our own little flat, i think this is the start of something beautiful, a new beginning. just me and ani forever, i like the sound of that. 

/ forever sounds perfect, angel girl

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wow what a journey this has been ! this will definitely be the last part of the ‘dear diary’ stepbro anakin series but dw i will be writing more for him i love him sm ! but thank you all sm to the all of the people who have been reading this and enjoyed ! and as i said in my last post feel free to send me requests as i am home for easter atm and need some entertainment !

tags: @johnbassplayercutie @srry-notsorry @hemmoxloser @evilnight07 @astarionsgirl @nyaaaaa008 @secretly-tumb1r @st4rfckerz

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── 𖥻 🍊‧₊˚⊹ about being caught having sex !

nct dream headcanon.

warning: smut.

masterlist

after the dance practice, mark is so euphoric that he takes you in front of the mirror. his left arm wrapped around your chest so he can hold you close, while his free hand rest on your hip to keep both of you steady. he's so thrilled by it that he only lowered his pants to the height of the pelvis enough to reveal his erection. your jeans are removed to the knees by his eager fingers before he shoves his cock into you and sighs in relief, moving his hand to your belly, feeling the small bulge he makes every time his dick is buried inside you.

“f-fuck,” he breathes, speeding up, 'cause he's so scared someone would come in and see you both like that. however, just thinking about it makes him more excited, although he'll never tell you that. you try your best to not moan at the top of your lungs just by the way he's fucking you, so hard and sharp that your legs and stomach vibrate, both getting frustrated because of the fear someone can come in any second and so the moment is not pleasurable anymore and ends up with both of you having a quicky and wanting to cum already. soon or later he'll find out that the practice room has cameras.

doing watercolors with renjun but in the middle of it you suggest being painted nude. what started as a joke ended up with renjun's eyes glancing at your body as he bites his lip in concentration. the dim light, the soft music; everything connects to leave a calm and comfortable atmosphere. so he draws you, smearing his fingers with pastel colors because he wants it to be just as perfect as you and at the same time can't concentrate with you looking like that. so eventually he just blurbs out “god, let me fuck you, please.” and it's all you ever wanted from the beginning.

so he fucks you there. in his bedroom floor, rough and needy. precum beads already on his slit. pastel colors are smudged wherever he touches, lips parted open in a silent moan because there are people in the room next door. trying to be quiet but that is complicated due to renjun's pants and hisses. he's pounding you at a speedy pace while rubbing your clit, trying so hard to cum quickly so you don't get caught. he almost gets away with it, if it wasn't for the last groan that left his lips that exposed them both. the moment he realizes what he's done, he cums so hard, that his legs would be shaking after the aftermath.

jeno is so fucking eager that doesn't even wait for you to spread on the bed and takes you right there where you're standing. pinning you against the wall with a strong hip on your waist that more surely will leave bruises, he plows his cock in and out with slow yet powerful thrusts. there's nothing you can hold onto so he whispers “on me, baby.” legs go numb that at one point the only reason you're standing on your feet is because of his firm hold on your waist as he smacks the shit out of you. you can't help but whine and moan as your nails bury in his arms.

honestly, if your moans don't give away that you're fucking, his groans will. jeno's so pussy drunk that he's hissing and whining because you feel so good, taking his cock so well. “so fucking tight, wrapping my cock so nicely.” he's so amazed by your grip and the way you stretch so well every time he fucks you. he won't be mad if someone hears you both, that way they'll know how good he makes you feel, and how good you fuck him.

haechan doesn't even care that johnny is in the room with you. he lays down behind you and without warning, tosses your pajama shorts, exposing your buttocks. he uses his hand to spread your ass while the other guide his length into you, squeezing his eyes when he feels your pussy already lubricated with your arousal. the compromised position doesn't allow you to go crazy, so he fucks you with slow-paced thrust, almost just wagging his hips in and out. the position makes the penetration pleasurable due to your legs pressed together which causes your pussy to narrow around his length.

a sudden movement causes both of you to freeze, watching johnny stir in his sleep. and suddenly, haechan's enthusiasm would vanish now that you almost got caught. however, you don't give up and begin to rock your hips into his, being a little more careful.

having a makeout session on his bed lead jaemin to fuck the shit out of you against the mattress, hands reaching the sheets while he crushes his hips harder and rougher. no sound comes out of his mouth other than small exhalations and sighs, and your moans, suffocated by the pillows.

stopping from time to time when he feels dizzy or about to come. hands reaching the headboard so it stops hitting the wall, not caring that much if someone's hearing because he's drunk and high on pleasure and it seems a problem for the future, so he goes back again.

you're washing your hair when chenle pins you against the tile wall. a small yelp falling from your lips from the surprise of his sudden move. furrowing your brows as you try to understand the situation, no longer unknown when he presses his tip at your entrance, leaving you to adjust around him and beginning to penetrate you calm and steady, switching the pace once you start to lubricate his dick with your excitement.

he doesn't give a shit, not suppressing his throaty whimpers and moans, that he suffocates sometimes in your shoulder and goes back again, getting louder and louder because the idea of being caught makes his dick ache, thrusting you harder so the smashing sounds of your wet pussy echo.

jisung is so scared that he suggests doing it in the recording room once everyone has left. taking you to the room where they record the songs so that the sounds cannot come out and can be heard. once one of your (his) worries has been resolved, the boy fucks you relentlessly. bending you over the glass so he can have a view of the door and also your features contracted in pleasure through the reflection. going insane and not containing any groans or grunts as he pounds into you.

he's a bit of a freak, so his hands would be constantly spanking you and choking you. “o-oh, shit.” hissing and groaning, eyes tightly close due to the adrenaline and sensation of the moment. “o—oh, god.” his elongated moans die out between the four walls, which leads him to be quite vocal as he plows you without compassion until you come, one, two, three times and your legs feels like jelly.

[imbecominggayer]

Creating The Mythology For Writing

This is the topic that @melda0m3 has request of me with the specific quote as: "How to write legends about gods? I have my whole god system and their basic lore, but can never figure out how to make legends and such"

So, following this advice post, I will only be talking about how to create legends for your established gods and I will not be talking about how to create gods.

Writing Legends

Legends, as defined by a quick google searchl, are a traditional story sometimes popularly regarded as historical but unauthenticated.

Legends are also classified as myths since myths are traditional stories that were meant to explain a physical or social phenomena.

For example, the "marriage" between Hades And Persephone was meant to explain seasons as Demeter(the goddess of harvest) destroyes all the plants when Persephone is in the underworld for six months.

Using the real-life reason for legends and myth exist can help provide a clearer, more concise, guideline to make use of.

Of course, your characters won't discuss every single legend within the story so you need to write the legends which will be noteworthy to the plot.

For example, you can highlight the mythology that explains why your characters have inhuman characteristics and why {SOMETHING} is happening.

However, mythology doesn't only exist around the natural. Legends are also weaved around battles, important individuals, and other such things.

This is due to the fact that legends are often the most influencial piece of propaganda within the world. Legends often serve to disparate certain communities within a conflict as failing to win the cover of God.

However, this propaganda also serves to paint certain individuals in an almost heavenly light where their ability to present themselves as a seemingly supernatural creature provides untold benefits for them. A real-life example of this is the Legend of King Arthur.

HOW IS IT APPLICABLE FOR YOU(Story Ideas) ?

Characters have a vested interest in making themselves appear better than they actually are. They may attempt to utilize legends in order to appear like they are God's favorite child.

Countries have a desire to always appear victorious and idealized. This can create it's own sort of reflection chamber where exaggerate stories of grandeur can create a mutation of beliefs so profound that when your characters step outside of the country, reality is vastly different.

Gods are the most likely to manipulate legends to cast their enemies in an unlikeable light while portraying themselves as perfect. This can lead to a highly complicated hodge-podge of contradictory information.

I hope I did well by you @melda0m3 :)

[sculkapologist]

I finally finished a NEW CUSTOM MAP ART!!! "Visitor," a portrait of an enderman, is extra exciting because it's my first full-palette map painting, meaning I used block height to access all the highlight and shadow colours available!! More on the full process under the cut, but the short version of what this means is:

ITS A VERY COMPLICATED CONSTRUCTION. I created the art, then planned and built this manually, without any mods or schematics for construction. Huge props again to everyone else in the server for helping me gather all the materials to make this absurd thing possible!!!

This was the original art I made for it! I'm a huge fan of the "compressed" look of the vanilla paintings, so I've been starting with a large image and shrinking it down, though there were a lot of pixel tweaks to get it to read well. After shrinking it to 16x32 (for an art made of two maps), I convert it to a limited palette that I've set up to match the colours minecraft actually has available:

The map palette is actually tremendously limited, so figuring out a painting that will still look good with that constraint is a challenge in and of itself!

Anyway, the way minecraft maps work, a block that is Taller than the block to the north of it shows up with a slightly lighter colour, and a block that is Lower than the block north of it shows up on the map with a slightly darker colour. So when making a key for this one, I marked all the squares with a little arrow if it's the lighter or darker version:

Each "pixel" here is a full stack of blocks on the mapped area: 64 blocks, 8 rows of 8. In order to achieve the affect of every block in a given pixel being taller or shorter than the block to the north of it, dark and light shades need to staircase either up or down. Because staircasing downwards in survival sounds even worse than this madness, I did some planning to make sure each of the "downwards" staircases would touch the ground, so I could simply staircase up from south to north instead. This involved figuring out how many up and down movements were in each individual column and planning out 32 little layouts:

It's worth noting that if you look up minecraft map art on Youtube, most of what you'll find is either, the simple realisation that placing blocks allows you to make custom map art, or an explanation of how to use a generator that will let you plug in any picture and then produce a schematic for you. It's very cool that these exist, but I wanted to do full palette art myself, without an auto-generated schematic, and at the time THERE JUST WEREN'T ANY TUTORIALS FOR HOW TO DO ALL THIS?? Now, having the experience of finagling all this, i think perhaps the reason is that this is a mad undertaking.

ANYWAY: PROGRESS SHOTS!!

I actually love how the staircases look..... its like some kind of modern sculpture

Fewer shots of the second half since I did it on call with friends; the last screenshot is one Thren took of me activating the new locked map to use for the gallery.

Once these paintings are done, I lock the finished maps, make copies, and stock them in the art gallery so other friends on our server can also put these paintings in their homes! It's a lot of work, but really rewarding to see my art decorating various buildings around the server. ;u;

I have one more custom full-palette painting I've done the art for and gathered all materials for; I still need to do the full key and plan staircasing for it before I can start, but HOPEFULLY if my resolve doesn't waver there'll be at least one more of these!!

[darthfighter]

the warmth

Chapter Four of Your Shadow Series

warnings: violence, death, pining, & a sprinkle of smut

summary: as you venture on your first mission with qimir, your feelings for him stand between you two and near death experiences cause tension between both of you

word count: 4.0k

authors note: thanks for all the support and feedback on this fic!! it really keeps me motivated :’) as promised.. this is build up for smut.. next chapter is posted right now as well

part three here !

Training with Qimir began to chip your vulnerability away like paint on a rusty ship.

Over time through the two weeks you had been training with him, you both grew closer. First he opened you up mentally by growing your thoughts to new mindsets, then he trained you combat wise. Growing physically closer to him. He’d often have a grip on your arm from blocking you. Maybe here and there he had been pressed up against your back as his arm wrapped around you when you let your guard down. Most of the time he would tackle you to the floor and look down to you below him. The action would only last mere seconds. Deep down, in your most non Jedi like feelings Qimir has been teaching you, you wanted the seconds to last longer.

This morning as you prepared for the training day ahead of you, Qimir stopped you.

“You’ve done enough. Today will be your first test, we’re heading to Jedha.”

Now you waited for the two of you to arrive on the big moon as you flew through hyperspace. You sat in the cockpit beside Qimir. The flashes of blue reflecting off of your complexion, Qimir gets to see your blue skin as he turns his pilot chair towards you to start conversation.

“It’s quite fitting for you to have a purple lightsaber.” You didn’t bring your lightsaber today. The decision of course made you protest on why you’d be on your first test with no lightsaber, but Qimir made a good point that an ex Jedi with a purple saber alongside a “Sith” with a red one would bring quite the attention. You didn’t disagree with that. So you joined today's mission saberless. “Most complicated Jedi have it.” Qimir finishes.

“You calling me complicated?”

Qimir raises his shoulders a few inches to shrug, and lightly brings his eyebrows up. “Why do you think I took you in? It’s one of the main reasons.”

You are comfortable with Qimir at this point. From the time spent together making his answer less of a threat and rather a compliment. With this comfortableness, you tease. “Is that the only reason you let me in?”

He stays silent.

You grew too comfortable, you thought. It makes your heart escalate at a higher speed and your body gets hot. Embarrassed.

He turns his chair back to the front to face the beams of light behind the windshield as you nervously fidget with your hands in your lap.

The jump out of hyperspace makes you shift into your seat making your back press up against the chair. When you look up, all you see is orange.

You smile to yourself. It resembles home.

–

Walking off the ramp, you felt pure adrenaline. Your boots imprinted themselves to the sand sinking you in just a tad. You remember as a kid, running as you played and feeling the sand below you slow you down.

Qimir stands beside you and doesn’t move. Neither does he say anything. The ramp closed from behind you both while you waited for him to take initiative. Nothing ever came.

You look towards him and see his lip twitch before he finally says something. “You are taking the lead today.” Your eyes grow wide while your heart falls onto the soft sand.

“What do you mean? I have no idea why we’re here?”

“Me neither.” You look towards Qimir’s expression. Amusement. That’s what his face said. His face held a smile growing his smile lines and his Adam's apple shifted as he held in his chuckle. He softly says your name and continues “All I know is you’re gonna use your instincts. Walk towards whatever calls to you. Follow whoever captivates you. Walk into wherever that pulls to you. Let the force do what it does best. Feel.”

Your eyes set on different parts of his expression, trying your best to read him. When you finally conclude he’s serious, you look ahead. You see the city of Jedha. You feel a sort of gravitational pull to it. Like being near a black hole, you sink into the abyss.

The abyss being The Holy City.

While walking towards the city, Qimir educates you a bit on where you are headed. How the city was known for its spirituality. Most come to this planet to find purpose, to find meaning. He explained how some believe that the Jedi and Jedha are intertwined. Roped together. Though you weren’t coming here to achieve the Jedi way.

The closer you got to the city, the more you tried to let yourself feel. Eventually as you made it to the crowded streets of Jedha, you became overwhelmed.

Jedha Pilgrims roamed almost every other corner, children running in groups, and droids left and right. You put one foot in front of the other and decided to stop. You close your eyes and you feel Qimir’s warmth beside you. Waiting for your next move.

The force tells you to take a right on the next alley way, and you do. Walking in that direction feels right, natural. Like you were supposed to come this way.

You continued this initiation repeatedly. Going left and right in different rotations.

Qimir stayed a ways behind you. Watching you, studying you. His hands were held behind his back as he walked behind you like your own personal shadow.

As you make your way through the busy streets of Jedha, you feel an instinct to stop. Your continuous pace ends. Then, a feeling flows through you like a gust of wind. You look towards the mental breeze which reveals a cantina. Music booms from the inside and all kinds of people and different species walk in and out of the entrance. The force is telling you to walk inside.

You look behind your shoulder to see Qimir’s eyes set on you with a piercing gaze. He’s focused on your actions and it makes you nervous. Especially intimidated. To make your feelings not get overwhelmed at his gaze, you look forwards again and start to walk inside.

Your pace walking inside feels choreographed. As you walk wherever the force is taking you, it buzzes your insides. Feeling like you're getting electrified from the inside out.

Something is burning as you walk in. Your eyes scan the dim cantina, and your mind wonders why you were called inside this place.

You decide to place your forearms on a high table as you inspect the room. Qimir joins you and stands beside you.

To your right you see people swarming a table as they play a game and bet on whatever amount of credits laid on the table. Directly across from you, you see a couple clearly on date. The man going on a tangent about Maker knows what as the girl sips her drink. Finally, to the left of you, you see four individuals with dark clothing. Something about their expression says they are here for something. The force feels dark as you look at them. Looking at them feels like it burns your eyes like you are looking directly into the suns.

“Can I get you two anything?” A waitress with a tray in her hands comes forward to you and Qimir. Before you get the chance to speak, he swipes the opportunity to respond out your mouth.

“Ah yes! Do you happen to have any drinks that are not too strong?” Qimir turns to you and puts his hand on your forearm. “Don’t want her taking care of me like the other day, right?”

You look back at Qimir and see a whole other person. A person you are not used to. It feels and looks like he is wearing a mask. Though, he resembles the person he pretended to be from when you first met him. He was playing his alias. You decide to play along.

“Yeah.. Don't want you getting sick like that again.”

“I understand, I’ll bring the best option for that.”

The waitress turns her back and heads to the bar.

Qimir shifts a bit closer to you, committing to the role. His hand still rests above your skin, and he brushes his thumb along your arm affectionately. As he does this, it begins to pull you out of the trance you have been keeping on the forefront of your mind.

“What’s calling you?” He asks, low, and in a different tone than what he was previously doing.

Your mind shifts out of your thoughts from his touch, and resumes onto the dark force ahead of you. You look over to the suspicious people without saying anything, making Qimir look that way. He hums from seeing what you are insinuating. He feels the heat off of them too.

“Here you go. Enjoy.” She brings a small glass of a drink. It’s blue and cold. She turns around and continues her job before you can thank her.

The two of you stand and resume to play your part and Qimir slowly drinks his beverage.

Eventually one of the suspicious men ahead of you walks into the back of the cantina. Going into a dark hall. Immediately Qimir gulps the drink down his throat and begins to hold his stomach while covering his hand over his mouth. He’s playing the part. He grabs ahold of your hand and takes you to the back where the man had gone. The waitress looks at you both and you apologetically give her a smile. Clearly meaning the drink wasn’t for him.

As you turn the corner Qimir shifts the way he had been holding himself. Before he was slouching and hiding behind his hair in his face, now he stood tall and confident.

His hand was still intertwined with your as you both ventured out in these halls, looking for the man. Your eyes pay attention to a bright light illuminating through a doorway. Qimir looks back at you, and you look at him. You finally let go of his hand and feel the warmth of him leave your skin, and start to walk towards the room.

As you turn the corner, you see the dark cloak of a man giving a bag of spice to a younger boy who has a worrisome expression painted on his face.

“Turn around, and mind your business.”

His words don't affect you. You continue to scan the younger boy. You feel the fear residing in him infect you. You feel a wave of protectiveness. It resembles the protectiveness you had for your brother.

You softly walk to him and the man shifts his body in anger.

“I suggest you leave.” He spits a threat into the air.

Your face grows soft to comfort the scared boy in front of you. You sense the uneasiness off of him, and decide to comfort him with the force by getting inside his head, and speaking. “Leave. And don’t come back.” The choice of words can seem threatening, but your soft tone makes it sound reassuring.

Without a second thought, the boy books it out of the room. The man yells “What about our deal!”

Now, the man looks at you with an angered gaze. “I don't know who you think you are.” His chest grows big in anger. He’s threatening you, and doubles it by pointing his blaster between your eyes.

The tension in the air grows thick. You’re defenseless. Though, Qimir stayed behind you.

You see the man's expression grow harsher and sharper. He’s about to pull the trigger, but before he does. His face grows red. At first you believe it's from his fiery anger, but you turn around to see Qimir holding out his hand. Force choking him. The more time passes, the more the man grows weak. He lets go of his blaster and it clashes with the floor. His breaths grow ragged and his hands reach towards his throat. His knees hit the floor, and he passes out. No longer breathing.

Your breath begins to quicken. The man is dead below you. Inches away from your shoes. You start to wonder how long it will be until his body will grow cold like your brother.

Qimir snaps you out of your wave of panic and grabs ahold of your hand, pulling you out of the room. Before you leave the room you pull yourself out of his grip and walk back towards the man, taking the blaster off the floor. You walk back to Qimir and let him take your hand again.

The both of you stomp down the hallway hand in hand. Eventually, the waitress who served you both comes around the corner in front of you with a worried expression “Are you feeling alright?”

Then, one of the other four men that were in the cantina previously shouted behind you. He aims his blaster at you both and fires. Before it can hit you, Qimir pulls you of the way with your hand and wraps his arms around you. However, the blaster hits the woman instead and she immediately falls to the floor.

Anger. Fire. Heat.

You feel strong. Powerful.

Anger bubbles itself in your chest and you want to avenge her.

Without a second thought, you raise your blaster and fire at the man. He falls to the floor.

“C’mon. We need to get out of here.” Qimir orders.

You start to walk towards the back of the hallways in the hopes to find an exit, rather than leaving through the front and creating countless witnesses.

As you turn a corner, another man attacks Qimir. Qimir immediately blocks it and lets go of your hand. You stand unmoving while Qimir blocks the other mans attacks. Even sometimes swiftly moving out the way with the force. While your eyes are set on Qimir a man comes up from behind you and wraps his arms around you. Sending you in a headlock. Your guard was down.

Next thing you know, bright red illuminates through the room. Shining against the walls. Qimir stabs the man with his saber. His eyes set on you, at first he has a worrisome expression painted on him, but then immediately turns into anger. He sees the man aiming his own blaster on your temple, with his finger on the trigger.

The man orders you to drop your blaster, and you do so.

“One move and I'll blow her head off.” The man orders.

Qimir stayed still as his saber rested in his hand, illuminating light and a vibrating sound echoing in the room.

It’s a standstill. Until Qimir swifts his hand with the force and it pushes the blaster out of the man's hand. Also with the force, Qimir yells at you in your head. “Duck!”

You pull your body down and feel the heat of the lightsaber sway above your head. Qimir had thrown his lightsaber to the man and it sliced his head off his neck. You hear the thud behind you, but don't dare to look.

Qimir lifts you from the floor and takes you out from the exit you've been meaning to come out of this whole time.

As you make it outside, the sky is orange. Orange from the suns setting as well as the insane amount of dust in the air.

A sandstorm was on the way.

“We need to make it to the ship before it gets worse.”

You nod your head in agreement. The two of you make it through the busy stress while being interlinked. As much as you enjoyed Qimir’s hand in yours, it made logical sense. With Qimir’s quick steps as well as making sure not to get lost, it was a good idea.

Eventually the two of you made it out of the city, now walking in a field of sand with mountain terrains around you. Qimir had landed his ship outside The Holy City to be smart and not bring attention to you both. This now backfired on you both meaning the walk to your ship was longer than you needed and the middle of a sandstorm.

The more you walked the more you shielded your eyes from the sand. Your mouth began to ingest the sand and would crack as you bit your teeth.

“Qimir! We won't make it!” You shouted through the sandy wind, “We need shelter!”

He doesn’t answer, and instead keeps walking.

The sand ends up getting so bad you can’t even open your eyes anymore. So you let Qimir take the lead. You trusted him with each step you took, following him while intertwined with his hand.

Eventually you feel the gust of wind grow weaker. Weaker until it is no more.

You open your eyes to see a dimly lit cave. There are remnants of a past campsite with sheets of cloth in different areas as a makeshift bed. Rocks in a circle for a campfire, though there was nothing to start one with, and empty bottles scattered around the cave. This was clearly a hangout spot.

You initiate letting go of his hand first as you wander around the cave, inspecting it. It may be empty, but not quiet. Wind howled towards the exit with a sheet of orange dust covering the distance beyond.

Looking back at Qimir, his stature is still. Broad.

“Let me guess, you used the force to find this place?” He doesn't answer you back. Instead he stays silent as he sits on one of the thin makeshift beds. His arms wrapped around his legs as they are bent, and his head bows, making his hair fall to his face.

He seems mad at you. Although you don’t know what for. So you speak your mind. “I did everything you asked me to.”

Silent.

You puff out air as frustration starts to take effect. You rest your hands on your hips. “If you're mad about the sandstorm it’s gonna go away eventually. We just have to wait-” Suddenly Qimir rises to his feet, fast.

“I'm not mad about the sandstorm.” He says, firmly, and showing hints of contrite. “You let your guard down.”

You look into his eyes and see he is serious. This makes you laugh lightly. Immediately he gets offended by this as you laugh in his face.

“You give me my first test with no weapon? And you expect it to go smoothly? I was almost considered useless compared to you! You have your saber Qimir.”

He raises his hand in the air to make his point, “The reason I didn't have you bring it is to not bring attention to yourself.”

“Then why do you get to bring yours?”

“Because I'm sure of myself! Once you are seen with me with your saber as well, you’ll become a target too. You need to decide if this is the life you wanna live.”

Your voice speaks in a pitch lower than before, “You could’ve just asked me if I wanted that.”

Silence fills the air. The way you look at him, answers that you want this life. You want to be alongside Qimir. You have never felt more yourself until you met him.

This seems to bring the tension down. You decide to sit down on a bed across from Qimir. He stays standing. He holds himself like he is impatient. Clearly something is on his mind.

“You could’ve died.” Qimir says, sternly. He sounds so serious your heart drops. He turns around to look towards the exit of the cave. Seeing dust brush past the exit. “I didn’t search for you for so long to lose you like that.” He mumbles. Though the wind made it difficult for you to hear. You only hear just a few words. The words being, search, long, and you.

Qimir doesn't turn around to continue the conversation, only keeps his back facing you. Silently. You lay down on the uncomfortable bed and turn away, facing the opposite way. The adrenaline from before started to take effect and make you tired. You felt your limbs melt into the floor and your brain grow quieter. You drift into sleep.

–

You open your eyes and it’s pitch black. Though it is so dark you can't tell if your eyes are closed or open, you still hear the wind howl in the distance. It hasn’t left. You frown your eyebrows as you can’t see around you, wondering where Qimir is. You can’t see anything, but you know you can if you want to.

Just as Qimir uses The Force as he can barely see through his helmet, you decide to focus exactly like that. You sit up and close your eyes. Reaching out to The Force. You focus on your breathing, making it steady and firm. You look out and feel. You feel warmth. Heat radiates to the right of you, as if a fire was lit right next to you. Your hand reaches out towards the flames, and you're met with Qimirs arm.

“What? What’s wrong?” He reacted, softly.

You shake your head side to side. “Nothing. Just didn’t know where you were.” Your hand leaves him and your skin feels warmed up as you take your hand away. You lay your back down onto the floor once again, and blink repeatedly and it looks like you aren’t even blinking from how dark it is.

Tension is in the air. So thick you could choke on the air. You swallow from nervousness and close your eyes in the hopes to fall back asleep.

After a couple of minutes of attempting to, you feel the fire grow closer. The flame starts to reach you, and you feel Qimir’s touch alongside your arm, caressing it.

Your breath hitches in your throat from the unexpected lingering touch. Qimir can’t hear how ragged your breathing became from the wind in the distance. Before he moves any more of his touch, he talks to you through the force.

“Do you feel the warmth too?” He finishes by saying your name.

You're speechless. You can't muster any words out of your mouth, let alone your brain. Although you don't want his touch to end, so you reciprocate it. Your hand on the arm he's touching reaches towards his chest. You rest it on his heart, feeling his heart bang against your palm.

He takes this as a yes to his question and positions himself in between you, and he does it so slowly. Your hands now plant themselves on his chest, and roam over his broad shoulders. His arms steady themselves beside each side of you. His thighs glue to yours and don't separate. Qimir lowers his chest until you can feel his face inches away from yours. He lingers his lips next to your ear instead of your lips, and speaks.

“When you think of desire, what do you feel?”

You sigh so loud next to him it moves his long hair next to his face. Your heart has never raced this hard in your life. You feel yourself shift below him, inpatient. Your hands that have rested on his shoulders now reach his chest, and you squeeze his shirt in your palms.

Even though your eyes remain open in the hopes to see Qimir, you never do, but you feel him move on top of you. He gets closer to you, instead of holding himself with his palms, he rests on his forearms.

Both of your chest heave next to each other in want. Resembling like you need to breathe each other in like air.

His right arm lifts, and you feel his warm touch rest on your cheek. He cups your cheek with his hand to finally know where your face is laid. He can navigate a bit better now in this pitch black abyss.

Qimir’s nose brushes yours, and you close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss the two of you will share, but it never comes. He’s waiting. For you. He wants to know you want this. As it is considered to be an action Jedi forbid. Qimir doesn’t know how committed you really are.

You show him how much you want this by crashing your lips to his, feeling both of you kiss in sync. First, it's slow, and soft. But as more kisses were shared, the more hungry you both get.

chapter five here !

[silverdreamscapes]

I swear people in this fandom are too funny. Because how can people say on one hand that they didn’t pick up on anything romantic between Elriel until the bonus and then say elriels lack reading comprehension and don’t pay attention to the text or details. Wtf, clearly if anyone lacked reading comprehension it was you and not elriels lol. Because we didn’t need a bonus chapter to literally spell out for us that Azriel and Elain wanted one another.

What did you think “A mate will know what is wrong with Elain” and then Azriel being the one to figure it out was about?

What did you think Azriel being the first one to notice Elain was missing and “I’m getting her back” were about? The fact that Sarah had Azriel as the one to go on a suicide mission to save her and not her mate?

The fact that Elain is the first and only person that Azriel has willingly let hold TT, his most prized possession? “I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two.” Pretty sure elucien and Gwynriel didn’t have a moment like this.

Why is Elain the first one to hold his scarred hands and call them beautiful?

Why do you think Azriel was clearly upset about spying on Lucien because he didn’t want to see what he and Elain did together? “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea.”

Why is Azriel associated with a place called Rosehall of all things? A place more than likely belonging to his mother.

Why do you think Elain buys gifts for Azriel but not her own mate? That she’s the one who causes Azriel to actually laugh out loud and it’s a sound unlike anything Feyre has heard before?

That he stays up until whatever fuck o’clock in the morning just to listen to her garden plans and stays with her even after everyone goes to bed.

If Lucien is supposedly what she needs because of “sunshine” then why is Azriel the one who actually takes her to the gardens and spends time with her in the sun enjoying peace and quiet and not Lucien? Why have Feyre ask Rhys “what if the cauldron is wrong”.

Why is Cassian confused pretty much throughout all of ACOSF because of Azriel’s behavior? Why he doesn’t sleep at night, why he avoids family dinners, why Elain smiles shyly at Azriel and has to look away, why Azriel seems so concerned over Elain’s wellbeing when he learns Nesta and Elain had a fight, why his shadows gather likes snakes ready to strike Nesta for insulting Elain?

And most importantly what about the fact that Cassian and even Mor notice that Azriel no longer looks at Mor longingly and appears to be over her? Azriel’s feelings for Elain were the catalyst and reason for him moving on from Mor after 5 centuries, and it wasn’t Gwyn his supposed mate who he actually met two years prior to Elain? Hmm…weird.

Or what about Azriel following the sound of elain’s laugh to another room and sharing a charged look between them? Or Azriel not being able to go into the family room because of “who” was in there “His secret to tell, never hers.”

Not sure how you missed all this, as well as other examples I didn’t even list, and then have the audacity to say we have no reading comprehension. Elriels didn’t need a bonus chapter to literally spell out for us that Azriel’s secret was Elain. I didn’t need it explicitly stated by him that he wonders what she looks like when he penetrates her, or that Elain gets wet just from him touching her neck of “offer and permission” to pick up on what Sarah has clearly been hinting at for multiple books. He wants her, she wants him, but there’s a mating bond in the way which complicates everything. It’s really that simple.

If you couldn’t pick up on that, then it’s you with the reading comprehension problem not elriels. They actually have romantic setup unlike Elucien where Elain loses her boldness around him. Or Gwynriel who have an off page rescue, and off page dagger lesson we never hear about, an off page bonus, and a regifted necklace meant for another woman.

[onesidedradiostatic]

I feel like this fandom blames Vox's shitty behaviour too much on Alastor / Valentino

"Alastor rejecting him is the reason why he's like this in the present" this

"Valentino is the reason he's like this now" that

How about; Vox's shitty behaviour should be blamed on VOX because he's a shitty person and he's in hell for a reason.

Dunno I've seen many people baby him too much

idrk what's with the fandom's need to victimise vox so much honestly, what really pisses me off is that I've unironically seen a post with 200+ notes completely sympathising with vox like he's a baby going on about how alastor was completely using him and MADE him believe they had a mutual partnership, going about how TRAGIC vox is that he was rejected, absolutely ZERO sympathy for alastor whatsoever, completely painted as the singular master manipulator in their relationship, only used to talk about how bad they feel for babygirl vox. yes the unrequited feelings were brought up too and I cannot begin to say how bad it is to villainise the target of affection for not returning those feelings.

like okay... guess we will ignore how alastor presently has his irrational hatred of video now too (episode 1) which was likely a result of his falling out with vox that affected HIM too... no we will only think about how vox is the poor poor victim rejected by evil manipulator alastor mhm.... there's absolutely no chance alastor had any sort of genuine care for vox during that time whatsoever, he was just using him mhm mhm mhm

like look this isn't me trying to deny alastor being the type of person to do this but when you're ONLY painting alastor in the bad light and not giving vox any responsibility that's when I'm raising my eyebrows, I hate this type of black and white reading, like even with the hotel that we KNOW alastor has nefarious intentions for, there's some hint of genuine care there, is it so hard to think that that might've been the case back then with vox too? is it so hard to think that the relationship didn't just negatively impact vox but alastor too?

this is why I'm glad complicated (and sad!) is one of the ways they're described so I can hope for this take to be completely killed off when season 2 drops.

anyways, accidentally started ranting about radiostatic takes here I didn't even respond to the second part, I'm sure this one's been discussed at length but yes, the fact that this happens with both vox's relationships with val and alastor sure says something, like people LOOOVE to remove vox from responsibility of his own crimes/wrongdoings, no he must ABSOLUTELY be 100% the victim in all his relationships, there's no way he's done anything wrong...

[milkie2]

I've been really admiring your ava art; I REALLY REALLY ADORE THEM SO MUCH!!!❤️😭💕💕 and I’m kinda interested in your ava art style. Could you do tutorials with tips or techniques on how to draw in your “ava art style”? I'm really inspired by your work and would love to incorporate some elements of your style into my own art style practice. I don’t want to force you to do this. It’s fine if this is something you prefer to keep to yourself. Btw, Love your work! ❤

AAAAA HIHIII Here's my art process of how i render stuff^^^

Entire explanation and process here:

I make a sketch first and then do base colors underneath

(occasionally I might skip the sketch entirely and go straight into colors, but thats a bit more complicated)

I then merge the layers and start painting on top of it (on the same layer), using the lineart of that sketch as a guide

The reason why I am doing this all on one layer is so that the colors mix and blend together in the way seperate layers just won't do.

I paint two layers of shadows, each with a slightly different hue (usually shifted towards the cooler tones)

After that, I paint the lighting. This time the hue I will use is to a warmer one, painting over the shadows with a warmer tone for the reflective lighting as well

I also do fixing and cleaning up (which is what I really like about coloring on one layer since its easier than doing it with multiple)

Then I do shading again, this time with another layer clipped with 'multiply' on

as well as add another layer for the 'overlay' and edge the shadows

I clip two more layers, one for 'multiply' and one for 'add' for lighting using the gradient tool

Occasionally I will also add an extra 'add' layer and put a color gradient on the shadow for that extra oomph on the lighting

Final result :33

Hopefully this isn't too confusing and fast FJDKSLFLSD Im pretty bad at explaining stuff 😭

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐏𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐲 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre!outbreak joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn

word count: 3.1k

summary: Months after the move you're trying to paint again. But you lack the motivation to do so. Thankfully, Sarah comes over and keeps you company until Tommy and Joel come over to pick her up.

warnings: brief themes of grief, tommy radiating younger sibling energy and being a menace, fluff

a/n: thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed the prologue and a special thank you to @pedrito-friskito who edited the chapter, love you! 💜💜💜

prologue || chapter two

The dust lingers in the air, a constant reminder of what once was. You see flecks of it dancing in the beams of light that pour through the window, illuminating the room with a hazy glow. The smell of dust permeates every corner, fills your lungs. There are still boxes stacked in your room. Some of them waiting to be unpacked and some of them waiting to be filled. 

Looking through your grandfather’s old knick-knacks had been a harder task than you thought. You found pictures, lots of them. From his past, from his now. You even found a picture of yourself from when you were a kid; laughing in the sun with mud all over your face. You had promised him the perfect garden. At the end of the day, it was far from it but he still said that it was. 

Your fingers clench around the brush you’re holding. An hour ago you decided to use the grief to make something of it. You had a heaping amount of black and red paint poured onto the pallete, untouched. 

You shake your head, agitated. You really shouldn’t be wasting paint. It’s not like you can afford to continuously buy supplies. 

You’re staring deeply into the blank canvas when a loud knock jars you back to reality. You can feel a burn in your eyes, taunting you for the wasted hour spent sitting idly without so much as a brushstroke to show for it.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumble under your breath while heading to the door. Your eyes linger on the window, it’s a clear day out, which now you decide to point all your anger at. If it was raining, it would be different. You would have the proper ambiance to be inspired. 

Without looking, you open the door, your eyes immediately dropping to the girl standing on your porch. “Sarah?” 

“Sorry for barging in,” she says with a sheepish grin. “I forgot my keys and dad isn’t home yet. Can I come inside?” 

Dad. Joel. 

You blink before smiling. You take a step to the side as a wordless invite. She steps inside with grace, her shoes blinking pink and purple. It’s hard to stifle a giggle, which earns you a quizzical look from her. 

You point to her feet, “Nice kicks,” 

“Oh,” her eyes lit up, leaving her heel glued to the hardwood floors, she lifted her foot. “Aren’t they cool? Azra offered we trade shoes for the day.” 

"Veeery nice," you nod, but as Sarah turns to head further inside, you clear your throat. "Shoes off," you remind her.

“Right, sorry.” 

You make your way to the kitchen, Sarah follows closely behind, taking off her blinking shoes as she goes. You stretch up on your toes and open the cupboard, searching for Sarah's preferred brand of tea. 

Since you moved in and formed close bonds with the Miller family, both Tommy and Sarah have been regular visitors to your home. You enjoy their company. It was nice to talk to people instead of obsessing over your muses that had clearly abandoned you.

You pull out the box of apple cinnamon tea and place it on the counter. Joel never stops by. You only see him whenever he comes over to pick up Sarah and that’s pretty much it. Sometimes you send cookies via Sarah and the next day she would tell you he enjoyed them. You aren’t quite sure if Joel is just reserved or if he just didn’t like you that much, but no matter what it is, the rest of the family seems to enjoy your presence. Which is all a neighbor could ask for. 

The staccato drumming of Sarah’s fingers against the wooden table pulls you back. You turn on the kettle, a soft steam filling the kitchen. 

“Your uncle Tommy is going to stop by too,” you say, leaning back and crossing your arms. “I’m assuming you’re dad is with him?” 

“Yeah, but it’s pizza day today so my dad will probably force them to stop by the supermarket to grab some stuff,” she lets her head fall onto her hands and adds. “If he doesn’t forget, that is. You should join us,” 

The water comes to a boil, forcing you to turn away from her. You place two tea bags into comically large mugs (the ones that make both Tommy and Sarah giggle, which brightens up your day) and pour the steaming water into them. You place one of the mugs in front of Sarah and slide into the chair beside her, watching as she wraps her nimble fingers around the purple mug. 

“I’m a busy woman,” you tease. “I need to work and stuff,” 

“Coffee shop?” 

“I’m off for the day,” 

A mischievous glint glimmered in her eyes, her smile widening into a cheeky grin. “Date?” 

You snort into your tea, waving your hand dismissively. Sarah raises an eyebrow at that. The girl has quite a sharp intuition. If you were being completely honest, it made you nervous some days.

“Nah, I just need to work on my paintings. I haven’t managed to paint a single stroke. It’s frustrating,” you stop and take a sip, the fruity flavor makes your taste buds come alive. “Very annoying,” 

“Maybe just paint something else or sketch something you like,” she states nonchalantly. “Take a break from the main thing, do a side quest,” 

“Sometimes I do that, but I really need to get a grip. I’m gonna end up working at the coffee house forever, or I’m just going to have to risk starvation,” 

“Don’t worry. We’ll take you in, feed you,” 

Teenagers. You shake your head with an amused smile, “What am I? A dog?” 

“A friend.” 

You still at that, fingers curling around the hot mug, it burns to the touch. Sarah starts to look around your house as if what she just said just now wasn’t ridiculously sweet. 

She hops off the chair and starts to wander with her mug nestled between her palms. Taking a sip, you smile into the porcelain rim, your heart beating fast. 

When you first moved here, you were scared to be alone. That you wouldn’t be able to make any friends. After your grandfather died and left you the house, you had half a mind to not make the move. It was nerve-wracking at the time. But ironically enough it was your grief that spurred you to take the leap forward. 

Sarah slows down, reaching the bookshelf. The one you have in the living room isn’t really that impressive, mostly put there for decor. She pushes a succulent out of the way and allows her fingers to trace the smooth spines. “You have a lot of children’s books,” 

“What can I say, I’m a kid at heart,” you observe the bookshelf next to her. She isn’t wrong. A lot of Roald Dahl books, which are followed by a series of Nicholas and the Gang books. “If you want to see my more serious stuff, we can check the one upstairs.” 

“I’m good,” Hooking her fingers around Matilda, she pulls the paperback out of its home. She flips it over and scans the back. “Can I borrow this one?” 

“Sure, be my guest. That’s one of my favorites,” 

“Living in a house full of dumb-dumbs sounds like my life story,” 

“Oh, believe me, your dad is much smarter than he looks,” the sigh you let out attracts her attention, eyes flitting back to you. “And so is your uncle. Also, Matilda’s parents are kind of assholes,” 

“Woah, spoilers.” 

Another knock at the door. Compared to Sarah’s slow, more careful ones. These knocks sound eccentric, hitting the wood as if the person behind it is out to break it. 

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah guesses, rolling her eyes but smiling. “My dad’s probably with him,” 

She’s spot on with her guess. Sarah peers from your side, looking over both her uncle and dad. Tommy shoots you a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Joel stands tall right behind him, his arms crossed, he greets you with a small smile and a signature head tilt. 

“Hello boys,” you say, returning the nod and smile. “Do you guys wanna come in?” 

Joel lifts a bag of groceries, “Pizza day,” 

Sarah’s ears perk up at that, her eyes wide with disbelief, “You didn’t forget!” then she narrows her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out. “Who are you and what did you with to my dad?” 

“I had to remind him,” Tommy chuckles, nudging his shoulder into Joel’s. He holds your gaze. “But I’m here for you, beautiful,” 

“My hero.” 

Joel scoffs with a half grin and gestures his head towards Sarah, “Get your things. Let’s get going.” 

All Sarah has to do is lean to the side and grab her backpack from behind the door. Joel waits for her below the short set of stairs, one hand in his pocket, eyes flicking between you and Tommy. He seems impatient, almost. 

Tommy brushes past you while Sarah takes her first step over the threshold. At that very moment you feel suspended in time, your eyes finding Joel’s for a brief moment until Sarah comes into view. He slaps a hand over her shoulder and smiles at you. Sarah is still holding the book as she waves you both off. 

When you close the door, Tommy is already in the kitchen, rummaging through your fridge. “You have nothin’ to eat,” 

“I thought we could order out,” you offer, your gaze falling to the blank canvas. Tommy moves his entire upper body out of the fridge and slams it shut. 

“You have anything in mind?” 

You don’t have to think long for an answer. 

“You know what? I think I’m craving pizza.” 

The thing about Tommy Miller is that he’s a good listener, paired with quite the mouth. 

He can talk for hours. You always comment on how that was his superpower; there RE no awkward silences when Tommy İs near. He’s also ridiculously intuitive, which makes you think Sarah got it from him. 

You two are sitting on the couch with crossed legs and facing each other. Your knees press together as he tells you about his day, munching on the last slice. He’s telling you how the concrete deliveries got delayed, which meant that the rest of their schedule got fucked. His words, not yours. Joel was furious, apparently. You never would’ve guessed. He just looks tired all the time.

“By the way,” he says, swallowing and reaching for the glass of bubbling coke. “If you were cravin’ pizza so much, we could’ve gone over to Joel’s. Eat some of that good homemade shit,” 

Picking up the empty pizza box, you place it on the coffee table and push it with the tips of your fingers. You don’t know how to answer him. Your brows furrow, and when he sees it, worry crosses his face. 

A bitter chuckle drops abruptly from your lips, “I don’t think Joel likes me very much,” 

“What?” Tommy sounds positively horrified. If anyone heard, they would’ve thought you said something along the lines of your mother dying. “Nonsense. He adores you. Why would you even think that?” 

Your eyes drop to the cushions you sit on. You feel the brush of his knuckles ghosting over your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze. His eyes are a soft brown, a shade lighter than Joel’s. 

“Hey, you can talk to me. Did he do something to make you feel like that?” 

“N-No,” you slowly shake your head, your pulse throbs under your skin. “I just…I don’t know. It seems like he’s wary of me, like I did something wrong once and he’s expecting it to happen again,” 

He sighs, his palm now fully cradling your cheek. You can’t help but lean into his touch. “That’s just Joel for you. He’s got a fair share of weight on them shoulders—I’m also probably not a big help to him. Always getting into trouble,” 

“I know for a fact that Sarah and Joel love you very much,” you have the need to remind him, and his eyes light up at your words. The skin under his hand burns. “Besides young siblings are always trouble, I would know since I’m the younger one as well. It’s character.” 

He blows a raspberry into the air. His hand falls from your cheek and takes refuge over his lap. “Some character,” he utters under his breath, shooting you a playful gaze. “You want me to talk to him?” 

“Please no,” you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder as you get up. “That would be super embarrassing,” 

“Sometimes you need to tell that stubborn dog to behave,” his voice reaches you in waves, his socked feet following you to the kitchen. You dispose of the boxes, start to prepare him, and you some late-night tea. 

“He is behaving,” you reply, feeling his presence behind you. “I just get into my own head sometimes. Don’t worry about it.” 

Your hands are still above the kitchen counter when you feel his warm breath fanning the back of your neck. You watch his fingers curl around the edge, his chin not quite pressing but lingering a couple of centimeters above your shoulder. 

“Anyone who doesn’t like you is a grade-A idiot, just sayin’” his voice is a low echo in your ear. He’s not physically touching you, but it feels as if his entire being is consuming you by just being so close. The click of the kettle parts the silence. “The water’s done.” 

You’re surprised when you turn and find that there’s actually quite a bit of space between you still. You could’ve sworn that his body was only a breath away. 

Tommy steps closer, caging you between his arms and the kitchen counter. He has a lazy, yet adoring, smile on his face. Your legs start to tremble, a habit you found you did whenever you were in any kind of confrontation. 

Now, there isn’t really anything to confront, so you blame the crackling of tension between you and him. You take a breath and your chest heaves.

You hold your breath when you notice he’s starting to inch closer, gorgeous browns dropping to the flush of your lips. You don’t pull away. But you don’t lean in either. You’re like a deer in headlights, shocked by the sudden beam of brightness. 

“Is this okay?” he asks in a whisper. You swallow, your muddled mind finding it difficult to string the words that might or might not form a coherent sentence. 

Tommy has always been a close friend. A confidant. Someone you can call in the middle of the night with noquestions asked. You know for a fact that he can be a flirt. And this quality of his cheered you up from time to time—like when he calls you beautiful or praises you in any shape or form. But you’re quite not sure you want to breach the limitations of a platonic relationship. 

Suddenly you feel his lips on your cheek, pulling back as quickly as he leaned in, he releases you from the cage and grins at you. 

“Gotcha.” 

“Excuse me?” Your mouth feels like sandpaper and your throat dry. You swallow and watch him sit on a stool across from you. His fingers grip the peaking part of the stool head between his legs, he looks like a toddler. 

“I’m just doing my thing, being a troublemaker. Just like you said,” he hunches forward, eyes looking up to you between dark lashes. “It’s character, right?” 

“Oh fuck off, Tommy Miller,” 

“You know I’m not above accepting that offer, right? It’s been a while.” 

You roll your eyes and turn on the kettle again, the steaming water now probably tepid. 

“What would you do if I actually kissed you?” 

The question lingers in the air and uncomfortably presses into your skin, you lack the air to take a breath. You don’t dare to look at him. Gaze stubbornly watching the button of the kettle to pop, signaling you that the water is boiling. 

“I don’t know Tommy,” you answer honestly and press a palm against the heating surface of the kettle. “I don’t know.” 

You hate taking out the thrash. 

You don’t know why. When you were a kid, it was your dad who took it out and that would always be accompanied by a series of complaints. His habit of talking to himself and to the inanimate objects around him had passed on to you. The night air chills your skin, a shiver shuddering up your spine while you struggle to keep the trash bag in the air with one hand. Your nails begin to tear the plastic and you start to walk faster. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, arm cramping. “Come on, just a little further,” 

When you reach the container, you lift the bag with a heave and do a small little hip wiggle at the small victory. 

Turning around you see Joel watching you with a wide smile. 

You’re stunned into silence, arms and legs tingling at the thought of how stupid you must’ve looked. He’s holding a trashbag of his own. Red flannel accentuating his narrowing hips perfectly. He cocks his head to the side when you continue to stare. 

“Are you always this excited after throwin’ out the thrash?” he asks, humored by your reaction. 

While you think of an answer, he takes wide steps and throws out his own trash. Joel then turns to you, the only thing separating your bodies being the white picket fence. 

“Let’s just say that I was happy it didn’t rip while making the trip,” 

He nods while pressing his hands into his thighs, “A worthy thing to celebrate.” 

You shift from one leg to another. The conversation you had with Tommy the night before echoes in your head worry clouding your chest with the question ‘did Tommy say anything?’.  But you assume not when Joel takes a step back, palms sliding down his jeans like a nervous tick. 

“Well then,” he clears his throat. “See you later neighbor,” 

You lift your hand to wave, an early smile starts to curl over your lips. However, your half-uttered goodbye is cut short by the absurdly loud growl of your stomach. 

Ah fuck. 

Joel stills. Your cheeks and the tips of your ears burn. His eyes drop to your arms that are now wrapped tight around your stomach, then he lifts his gaze back up to meet yours. 

“You wanna join us for dinner?” he asks, he pronounces every word slowly, reminding you of the way you whisper to animals that you don’t want to scare away. “Sarah’s makin’ her special burgers,” 

“Special?” you ask back, ignoring the fact that you’ve become a charity case in a blink of an eye. “What makes them special?” 

Hand sliding into his pockets, Joel gestures with his head for you to come over. 

“Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?” 

[linkspooky]

"And we don't have the luxury of thinking of ourselves. We just got to save people. So start by saving me, Itadori!" This actually shows Megumi has somewhat of an agency as a sorcerer. Ater all he vowed to get stronger after Yuji's apparnet death. He doesn't think of giving up being a sorcerer to be a kid. Now, Megumi's rejecting Yuji's help, the very same thing Yuji did to him. Plus, refusing to even try to 'wake up' means the death of other characters (Gojo, Higurum probably more others soon) will be for nothing... because Megumi's being selfish by giving up in the eleventh hour. That's why the fans are all mad at him."

Hello, friend I thought I'd use your post as a jumping off point to continue our discussion. I'm not necessarily trying to argue with you, just further explain my point and why Gege made the story choices that he did.

So one of the reasons I chose Killua as my comparison to Megumi, besides the obvious inspiration Mgumi takes from Killua's arc, is that despite the fact that Killua has many of the same character flaws and setbacks as Megumi he's much more well-received in western fandom spaces.

Killua also has a pretty straightforward arc, he still has character flaws, he idolizes Gon way too much and that makes him incapable of calling out Gon's flaws, or getting Gon to listen to him in his worst moment during the Neferpitou fight where Gon gives up everything to destroy Pitou pointlessly. However, even in those moments where Killua is failing Killua is still portrayed incredibly sympathetically. The audience reaction when Killua is failing is vastly different to when Megumi fails. When Killua is at his lowest point in chapter 241, there's no "get back up loser" it's "awe Killua."

That's because again Killua's arc is so clearly telegraphed. When Killua is at his lowest point, you in the audience understand that he is there and why he can't get up instead of yelling at him in frustration. At his lowest point he's still presented as being selfless towards Gon and chiding himself for not being of use to Gon, he's not giving up because he's too weak to keep going like Megumi is.

Killua on the whole is a lot more likable than Megumi too, but I think this stems from the fact that the narrative of Hunter x Hunter paints him in a better light, he has a mostly positive character arc where he learns to stand on his own two feet and forms a healthy relationship with both Gon and his sister - whereas Megumi has a negative / corruption arc which goes in the opposite direction of Killua's.

However, I would argue because Megumi is painted as more selfish, and allowed to be more unlikable that he is better written in Killua because there's an element of ambiguity that's not there in Killua's arc.

Megumi reaches his lowest point where he can't move similiar to Killua, but instead of spending his last moments thinking about how much he wanted to be of use to Gon, instead he's begging for death and drowning in his own self-pity not even looking up to see Yuji right there in front of him trying to save him.

You're right that he comes off as selfish, and a lot less likable to the audience and rightfully so. I feel like we're supposed to be frustrated at Megumi here for not seeing how much effort everyone is putting into saving him.

However, sometimes characters are unlikable on purpose!

Sometimes character writing and what a characters actions means for their story and themes is more important than whether or not the audience finds that character likable. Sometimes a writer might even have the character make an unpopular choice that the audience will disagree with, in order to make the audience angry and frustrated with them on purpose. After all, you yourself are saying you're worried about all of your other favorite characters getting harmed now that Megumi doesn't want to be saved - that creates tension in the scene. The scene is more complicated now and there's more at risk, because now things aren't as easy as Yuji reaching out and saving Megumi.

Gege is also using a tactic called delayed gratification here. Delayed or deferred gratification is the resistance to the temptation of immediate pleasure in the hope of obtaining a valuable and long-lasting reward in the long term.

Instant gratification would be Yuji's first attempt at reaching out to Megumi working, Megumi reaching out his hand, Sukuna being defeated, Megumi and Yuji hugging and everyone going home happy.

Of course, then the story would be over as well.

By delaying gratification and not giving the audience what they want right away, the effect when Megumi is finally saved, or in my opinion, what should happen when he decides to save himself will be even greater.

As I was trying to illustrate above Megumi's arc is in my opinion better than Killua's, because it doesn't follow a handy dandy roadmap on where Gege is going to go with his character. Things aren't as clear cut and there's an element of ambiguity. Ambiguity in this context meaning what the author wants, Megumi's thoughts and his wants / trauma, and where Megumi's arc is going are not as clear cut.

Gege cited Nasu's writing as a major inspiration on his because they skip explanations and instead let the audience try to explain things and put the pieces together for themselves.

I think when writing gets really good, we reach a point where "What's written is just as important as what's not written." That doesn't really make a lot of sense so let me explain it. Good writing does not spell out everything for the audience, but instead relies on audience inference to fill in the blanks, because then the reader becomes an active participant in writing the story and has to draw their own conlclusions instead of remaining a passive reader.

Megumi never thinks out loud that he didn't want to be a sorcerer and that he wanted to be a kid like Killua did, but there are things in story that implies Megumi thinks that way. The way he thinks he can never live up to Gojo's level or reach Gojo's heights. The way he doesn't even seem to want to. The way that personal connections like his connection to Yuji and Tsumiki is way more important to him then his duty as a sorcerer.

The way that Megumi doesn't ever seem to believe that he's as capable as being strong of as Gojo, and doesn't even seem to want to try either. This passive resistance Megumi shows to becoming what Gojo wants him to be, is basically the only way he ever grasps for agency.

Megumi is kind of like a really lazy smart kid, who never turns in his homework but manages to pass classes anyway because he's good at taking tests. He's so naturally talented that unlike characters like Yuji who are newcomers who have to give it their all - Megumi can just coast on being born with an extremely strong technique and not having to put the effort in for most of the story.

Megumi's choice to coast though is like I said - passive resistance. Megumi never says out loud that he doesn't want to be a sorcerer, but we can analyze from his behavior, his constant habit of half-assing things that maybe there's a reason he can't put his all into being a sorcerer. I mean someone on reddit put this entire collage together on how unmotivated Megumi is to put the work in to develop his talents.

The question is why in the manga where everyone is trying to be stronger, does Megumi keep half-assing things and not put his full effort in, why doesn't he seem to enjoy getting stronger the way say, Maki, and Yuji does. The answer isn't directly given to us, but all the way back in the third chapter Yaga says that sorcerers can't use other people as their reasons for being a sorcerer. It's an incredibly deadly and terrible job and if you don't know your own reason for why you want to be a sorcerer, you won't perform as well and you'll begin to doubt yourself.

Yet, here's Megumi doing that exact same thing that Yaga warned about. Megumi didn't become a sorcerer because he wanted to or for his own reasons. He was groomed into being a sorcerer by Gojo, his options were 1) starve, 2) go to the zen'in and be a sorcerer anyway and your sister will most likely be abused 3) be a sorcerer under Gojo but Gojo will leave your sister alone.

Megumi convinced himself that he wanted to become a sorcerer for Tsumiki's sake, that he was sacrificing himself so Tsumiki could at least continue to live a normal life but he's not even able to protect Tsumiki. When she becomes cursed, he's robbed of his entire reason for becoming a sorcerer under Gojo in the first place, but he has to just keep going on the vain hope that Tsumiki will wake up one day. Perhaps that's the reason that Megumi immediately grew so close to Yuji too, because Yuji reminded him of Tsumiki, but while he failed to save Tsumiki Yuji was still around and someone he could actively want to save.

Megumi doesn't want to be a sorcerer, but he has to be one and so in order to convince himself that he wants to do his job he tells himself he's doing it for the sake of Yuji, or Tsumiki. If he thinks that his sacrifice is somehow helping the people he loves either directly or indirectly then he can keep going.

That small amount of selfishness is the only agency he's able to reclaim for himself, that he's not sacrificing himself for the greater good or trying to save everyone like Yuji is, he's only trying to save a small group of people so he doesn't have to exert himself too much.

However, even that is basically just lipservice to being selfish, because in the end Megumi doesn't really benefit from his own actions. He does everything he does for other people. Even if it's for his own selfish reasons - to give him a motivation to keep going in this really shitty job of being a sorcerer he was forced into, even if he's using other people as an excuse to keep doing his job he's still not really a selfish person. He's not allowed to be selfish because he's not allowed to think for himself or make decisions for himself b/c he's been so thoroughly undermined by Gojo's grooming of him.

This is the paradox that is Megumi Fushiguro. He is presented to us as a very selfish character, especially in contrast to the all-loving hero Yuji, he's much more childish, prone to angst and failure and yet Megumi isn't really that selfish. Because true selfishness requires agency and the decision to decide for one's self and Megumi doesn't have that.

Sometimes, characters will make selfish and unlikable decisions in order to serve a greater story purpose even if the audience doesn't approve of them.

Megumi's character is better written than say Killua's, or even other characters in Jujutsu Kaisen because as a complex abuse victim he struggles internally with his issues, and growing past them instead of immediately getting back up on his feet to do the right thing. It's really easy to sympathize with Killua not wanting to be a murderer, because that's easy to understand. When Killua goes he wants to make friends not be an assassin the audience is immediately on his side. When Megumi doesn't want to be a sorcerer, a job that everyone else in the manga including characters like Yuji and Maki are fine with being and don't question whether or not they want to be sorcerers or get stronger then he looks selfish and weak-willed in comparison.

Megumi's internal struggles to form his own identity and grasp at agency are probably the most complex and best written character work because it's not immediately gratifying. Megumi's arc is not a straightforward arc, things have to get worse for him before they get better.

It's like in season 3 of avatar with Zuko. Zuko looked ready to change sides with team avatar at the end of season 2, but he regresses and sides with Azula instead when he thinks he's getting everything he wanted on a silver plate. It might seem more frustrating to not get what the audience wants, Zuko joining team avatar right away, but by delaying that immediate gratification the payoff for when Zuko does join team avatar is greater. Sometimes it's better to be less straightforward, because then characters feel like people with internal struggles and not pieces you are moving down a pre-determined path.

Let me compare Megumi to a character in story who's arc is pretty universally beloved, but I will argue is less complex than his. You could say for Megumi, well Maki's sister died and not only did she get over it she used that death to climb to even greater heights and she's now one of the most powerful characters in the manga.

This seems to be what readers want for Megumi, for him to get over Tsumiki's death and then live up to the potential that he's been foreshadowed to have. If the audience had their way, the same way that Maki was destined to become the next Toji, Megumi would step up right away after Tsumiki's death, become the next Gojo and become as powerful as Maki.

However, here's my question do we as readers really feel Maki's mourning for Mai? I mean if you were a fan of Mai you probably feel sad at her death because she was a character that you liked, but does the narrative ever take the space to have Maki struggle to come to terms with the loss of Mai?

No, because Maki pretty much immediately gets a power up afterwards. We don't really feel Maki's loss for Mai, because we get that immediate gratifaction. Maki never lays on the ground and wallows, she never gives up, in fact we get some pretty immediate catharsis too because Maki goes on to murder all of Mai's killers.

Mai's death doesn't seem like the tragic event that it is, because it's not played as a tragedy, but as Maki coming into her own power. There's nothing wrong with this I suppose, but it's less emotionally complex because we take no time for Maki to internally deal with the loss of Mai, to feel that loss. Tsumiki is way less of a character than Mai, but her death is an unequivocal tragedy because nothing good comes out of it, Megumi doesn't get to avenge Tsumiki's death, it's only a tragedy, it's only suffering.

If you're satisfied with Maki's arc that's fine, but like I said it's a lot like Killua's in that it's very clearly signposted where we are going. It's narratively convenient. Like, when Maki is at her lowest point, a sumo guy shows up out of nowhere to give the exact words to encourage her and lead her character to the conclusions she's supposed to draw.

Megumi and Maki are both victims of abuse but Megumi's allowed to be a lot more unlikable, he's allowed to stumble, to do things the audience wouldn't approve of. He's not shown to be more virtuous than his abusers, to rise up and get revenge against his abusers, he doesn't immediately free himself through the power of his hard work and determination alone.

In fact compared to Maki Megumi's kind of just a loser.

Yet, sometimes the road less traveled is the better one. Megumi doesn't follow the paint by numbers abused child overcomes their abuser and finds their own strength / freedom / agency arc and because of that he doesn't come off as a character with a character arc, but rather a child struggling to grow up properly in a world where he has no positive adult figures to help grow and nurture him. Just like a child Megumi has no idea how to be an adult, and unlike Maki there's no path to adulthood clearly laid out for him.

In fact when he does try to take steps or reclaim his agency for himself, someone usually appears either Gojo or Sukuna to rob him away of his agency and further sabotage him. Megumi's arc has a pretty clear pattern of one step forward, two steps back. Megumi bonds with Yuji, Yuji dies. Megumi promises to get stronger for Yuji after his death, Yujhi turns out to be alive and also he finds out that his decision to save Yuji after Yuji ate the finger led to fingers all around the world awakening more people dying. Megumi decides to keep this fact from Yuji to spare his feelings creating a wall between him and Yuji.

Megumi creates his domain for the first time, but then in Shibuya he's put into a corner by his father stabbing him and takes two steps back using Mahoraga as a suicide move again another curse user. When he does that too, he thinks about how he'll never be as strong as Gojo wants to be five seconds before calling Mahoraga.

Megumi comes out of the culling games with a plan to save Tsumiki, manages to defeat one sorcerer using his domain expansion and pushing his limits again like he did in the death painting arc, only for Tsumiki to turn out to be possessed and Sukuna to take his body.

One step forward, two steps back.

However, the complexity from Megumi's character comes from this fact, the fact he doesn't just walk down the path the audience wants him to, he doesn't simply do what Gojo laid out for him to make him the next Satoru Gojo. He doesn't find meaning or reason in being a sorcerer, he doesn't get stronger as a sorcerer because he doesn't want to be there.

There's no convenience there, no one pops up with an inspirational speech the moment that Megumi needs it to keep going instead it's the opposite the narrative keeps robbing Megumi of his agency agian and again, pulling the rug out from under him when it looks like he's gotten the strength to stand out on his own two feet and Megumi has to keep going. The narrative rewards Maki and gives her what she wants her arc is basically over, whereas it punishes and denies Megumi at every turn. Maki's arc isn't bad but it is basically already over and it's a lot simpler and more straightforward than Megumi's.

Megumi is also called on to do a lot more than Maki is, because Megumi's issues can't really be solved with a power-up. This quote "let fate toy with you before you die like a fool" is probably one of the most important quotes when speaking about Megumi, because Megumi really is the fool in the fool's journey.

The Fool's Journey is a metaphor for the journey through life. Each major arcana card stands for a stage on that journey - an experience that a person must incorporate to realize his wholeness. These 22 descriptions are based on the keywords for each major arcana card. The keywords are highlighted in the text. A card's number is in parentheses.

The Fool's Journey is different from the Hero's Journey, because the Hero's Journey is the standard narrative for how a character rises up to become a hero, whereas the fool's journey is how a person goes from being an innocent but empty child a fool, a zero, into being a whole, and well rounded person. In Tarot the Fool (0) is basically a newborn, with no identity, no opinions, an empty vessel.

We begin with the Fool (0), a card of beginnings. The Fool stands for each of us as we begin our journey of life. He is a fool because only a simple soul has the innocent faith to undertake such a journey with all its hazards and pain. At the start of his trip, the Fool is a newborn - fresh, open and spontaneous. The figure on Card 0 has his arms flung wide, and his head held high. He is ready to embrace whatever comes his way, but he is also oblivious to the cliff edge he is about to cross. The Fool is unaware of the hardships he will face as he ventures out to learn the lessons of the world. The Fool stands somewhat outside the rest of the major arcana. Zero is an unusual number. It rests in the exact middle of the number system - poised between the positive and negative. At birth, the Fool is set in the middle of his own individual universe. He is strangely empty (as is zero), but imbued with a desire to go forth and learn. This undertaking would seem to be folly, but is it?

Megumi is the most underdeveloped and childish character in the series. He is as people have constantly referred to him, immature and selfish. He doesn't see things for the greater good, because he's ego-centric like a child and can only see what's around him.

What Megumi needs to do is to become a whole person, to develop an entire identity on his own, that's not dependent on Yuji or Tsumiki. He needs to be able to stand on his own two feet.

Now, how does Megumi go about doing that while he's also asked to be a sorcerer, people who aren't allowed to be selfish, who are asked to be identity-less cogs who exorcise curses for the greater good.

Megumi's arc is a lot harder, and a lot more difficult because it's not resolved by him getting a power up. That wouldn't fix his central issue because the problem isn't that Megumi's weak, it's that he's weak willed and doesn't think for himself.

Megumi can't become the next Gojo or the next Toji, he has to become himself.

Yet, Megumi and the audience at large don't know exactly what that means yet. That ambiguity, will Megumi be able to save himself, how exactly will Megumi save himself if he's not taking the hands that Yuji offers him. How exactly will he find the will to live with Tsumiki gone, and with no reason besides himself to keep on moving? It's that ambiguity that makes his arc more compelling.

Also, if Megumi were to resolve his arc by just getting a power up that kind of just means that Gojo was right all along. Like I hate to borrow from Homestuck of all things but this quote heavily applies to megumi and the way he was raised by Gojo.

So in the context the character Dave was raised from childhood by his brother to go through some super ultra ninja training, where he was basically forced to spare with his brother with swords every single day and put through the ringer with training, and that training didn't make him stronger it just made him afraid to fight. Dave can't see himself as strong or as a hero, because he's number one constantly feeling inferior to his brother who has like destroyed his entire childhood and number two because he didn't have a childhood he has no solid basis to build his sense fo self around. There's no strong foundation for Dave because he was robbed of the childhood years that help us form our identity. He never formed an identity, the only thing he could do was try to passively resist what his brother wanted him to be. That's not really forming an identity though, that's saying "I don't want to be that." Dave in his arc is continually reluctant to be a hero, and to go through the steps of a straightforward hbero's journey, because he doesn't want to be like a hero, because his brother was a cool brave heroic hero and his brother abused him.

Dave's character shines in his reluctancy to be a hero, because if he just sucked up all of that abuse and then decided to be a hero anyway then wouldn't that just prove that his brother was right? That his brother was right to put him through all that abuse because look it made him stronger in the end.

Gojo took Megumi's childhood away from him with the intention of turning him into a stronger sorcerer, but it had the opposite effect. It didn't make him stronger or into another Gojo Satoru, it made him not want to become a sorcerer, it made him weak willed and made him cowardly and made him want to run away from danger and made him unable to believe himself to be strong enough to win.

Even Maki's arc doesn't ever suggest her abusers were right. If anything it's the opposite, Maki wanted to be a sorcerer, she would have willingly become one but her family sabotaged her at every chance and denied her the opportunity to become one - only to show that Maki was right all along that she had more potential than anyone else in the family and her family should have given her that chance. That if from the beginning the Zen'in accepted and raised Maki then the tragedy at the end of her arc could have been averted. The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel it's warmth... etc, etc.

So Maki's arc may be way more straightforward than Megumi's, but her arc doesn't suggest that her abusers were right to put her through what they did. However, Megumi just being told to suck up all his abuse and get stronger would be doing just that, because it would mean Gojo was right all along to do what he did, Gojo stealing Megumi's childhood would be right because look how much stronger it makes him.

However, Gojo's actions didn't make Megumi stronger, it made him the opposite, it made him never want to fight, or see blood, or be near danger. It made him passive and cowardly and selfish rather than active and brave and selfless.

Sometimes a writer may have a character make an unpopular choice in service of the story and themes.

You're not wrong friend for pointing out that Megumi comes off like a hypocrite for giving up, when he called Yuji selfish for giving up on his own before the beginning of the culling games. If anything it's worse, because Megumi has chosen to give up at the moment when everyone is basically making a group effort and risking their lives to help him instead of going for the more tactically solid strategy of killing Megumi alongsde Sukuna. Megumi is not respecting the feelings of those who wish to save him, nor is he thinking about how much the others are risking their lives just for the chance to save him.

However, this intentional parallel of Megumi being able to reach Yuji at his lowest point when he wants to give up, and Yuji not being able to reach Megumi illustrates the difference between their characters.

Yuji became a sorcerer by choice. His ideal of wanting to help people is something he chose for himself, and apparently according to Sukuna he believes down to his very bones which is why it's something he'll never waver from. Yuji is the outsider who became a sorcerer by choice, he wants to be in this world - even if it wasn't a total choice like he chose to eat the finger but he didn't think of the ramifications and afterwards his choice was like "die now, or die after eating 21 more fingers." Yuji still views it as his choice though.

Megumi on the other hand never had a choice. All of his justifications and reasons and "I selfishly choose who to save" those are all lipservice, ex posto factor justifications, lies Megumi tells himself to cope with the fact that this life as a sorcerer was forced upon him.

That's why Megumi doesn't have the unshakable determination to get back up at his lowest point that Yuji had, because Yuji at the end of the day is kind of like the embodiment of the ideal sorcerer the way Nanami is, he's decided to give his life to be a sorcerer and live up to what sorcerers should be so he can make the world a slightly better place and then pass the torch to the next sorcerer.

Yuji chose that for himself, and for better or worse he keeps making that choice over and over again. He's resolved to live and die as an ideal sorcerer, and carry on the burden that Nanami left for him.

If Yuji's arc is to figure out what kind of sorcerer he wants to be and then be that person to the very end, then Megumi's arc is the opposite. It's to find out who he is outside of being a sorcerer, because being a sorcerer wasn't his choice it was something that was imposed upon him. That's what Killua's arc is too, Killua's arc is not him learning to live up to his full potential as an assassin because that would once again validate his family's abuse of him. No Killua can't grow up into what his family wants him to be, he has to figure out for himself what he wants, and try to grow into that person.

However, Megumi has that added layer of difficulty in that Megumi doesn't get to use "I want to grow strong enough to protect my sister" as an answer the way Killua did. Megumi unlike Killua gets the crutch ripped out from underneath him. He's not allowed to live for Tsumiki anymore, because Tsumiki is gone.

Now Megumi has to find a way to keep living for himself without Tsumiki, and show that life is worth living even if you lose your loved ones or he sinks. Which as I said again is harder and more complex o Megumi because he doesn't get the simple answer "I want to grow strong to protect my sister" he's called to do more than that and stand entirely on his own.

Finally, Megumi not immediately taking Yuji's hand when it's offered to him adds complexity to the story in another way.

Again we are asking the question, is it possible to save someone who does not want to be saved? It's repeating the same conflict in the past between Gojo and Geto now with Yuji and Megumi. Can Yuji really do anything to save Megumi if Megumi himself has decided to give up and that he's beyond salvation. If Megumi does not want to be saved then what does Yuji's attemps to reach out his hand amount to?

One last thing is I think Yuji's attempts to save Megumi were always going to fail, because as it's already been stated above by Gojo you can't save those who aren't willing to be saved.

In broader story terms though, if Megumi's arc is about reclaiming his own agency then how is getting saved by Yuji a proper end to this arc? Megumi being rescued like a passive damsel is not giving his character any agency, if anything it's robbing him of agency because it's reducing him to a victim to be saved by Yuji.

This is why I bring up delayed gratification, because if Megumi was saved here then his arc would be over and it would also be brought to a pretty unsatisfying conclusion. There would be no real moment where he learned to stand up for himself, he didn't find the meaning in living past the death of his loved ones for himself someone.

Not only is Megumi not letting Yuji save him, but story-wise it's kind of impossible for Yuji to save him because what Megumi needs narratively to complete his arc isn't to be saved.

What Megumi needs is to save himself. So no matter what Yuji did, no matter what heroic speech he gave, no matter what lengtsh Yuji went to to free Megumi's soul for Sukuna it would not have worked anyway, because that's not what Megumi needs.

Megumi needs to become himself. Megumi needs to save himself.

The fact that Megumi doesn't want to be saved, that he doesn't want to keep living, is the struggle he's going to have to overcome in order to achieve these things in the end.

And it will be much more gratifying when he does save himself, because the manga didn't go the easy route and just have Yuji save Megumi.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Serious Phobias

I'm pretty stressed out because I'm moving, so I decided to write about König stressing out too! Yay! Anyways, let's go.

König has a complicated past. His childhood was filled with bullying, his adult life has been filled with bullets and bombs. He's been through too much for one man, honestly. The fact that he hasn't either become a hikikomori or a homicidal maniac is a miracle. I think the only reason we're safe is because he has a good family and he found good friends when he joined the military. However, he has scars. Not all of them are painted on his skin.

I've collected phobias that I think he might have into a list, however some of these fears are fears that though they impact him seriously, he can live with them and won't have a panic attack upon facing them. Fears that genuinely terrify him identified. His fears are ranked 1 through 5, with 1 being a fear that just makes him a bit wary/on edge, but he's not going to have a meltdown unless pushed or 5, a fear that can cripple him with just a brush.

Phobias are listed under the cut (also I got the fears from a list online, hence why they're mostly alphabetical)

1 Scopophobia: Fear of being watched

König grew up in a small, rural village surrounded by monsters in all shapes and sizes. Adults were cruel, children were monsters. He grew up being afraid of going out because he knew that everyone in the village saw him as the socially outcast freak. Every time he looked at people, he saw them looking at him with disdain. I think a lot of this is due to developing social anxiety, and so thus he became paranoid, but he did develop a fear of people watching him, judging him, following him with their eyes. He hates going out into the civilian world because of this.

1 Agorophobia: Fear of open spaces or crowds

König is scared of going out into crowds. Why? See phobia above. He can't stand being outside of a place he considers safe. Not in a 'I can't go on missions' way, but in a 'I don't want to go to a shopping mall' sort of way. On a mission, he's either alone or in combat. When he's in civilian life, he doesn't know how to turn the military brain off. He can't get it through his reptilian brain that he's safe, and he's okay, and no that person carrying a duffle bag is not actually carrying a hidden rifle, and no that person with a thick coat does not have a bomb under their clothes, and no that person who's walking towards him does not have a knife in their belt. He is safe. He knows this logically, but he can't stop his heart from racing. It's too loud, too hectic, too many things can go wrong too quickly.

5 Atychiphobia: Fear of failure

Do you know what failure means when you're on a mission infiltrating a cartel base? Failure means watching your teammates get blown apart by a bomb. Failure is watching your best friend fall down into a puddle of their own blood. Failure is getting a bullet between the ears. Failure is not an option in his world. When people make mistakes, don't check their surroundings properly, when someone dares to light up a cigarette at night in an open area, that's when people die. Remember this phrase when you go to smoke on a battlefield. The first light catches the sniper's attention, the second light he lines his sights, the third light he pulls the trigger. Mistakes cost lives when on the field.

1 Catagelophobia:Fear of being ridiculed

This one is pretty self explanatory. He's been bullied his whole life. He's pretty sick of it.

3 Cynophobia: Fear of dogs

König, due to working in missions that target gangs and domestic terrorist groups, has had the misfortune of seeing dogs being used against his own people. He's been attacked by a dog before himself. In combat, dogs are tools of terror. He's seen his own team use dogs, and he knows what they're capable of. You might see a fluffy German shepherd. He sees a dog that's torn peoples hands off. However! He does also like dogs when he meets them in public. He is not going to assume your dog is a killer, but if your dog growls, he won't dare touch that dog. He won't even get close. He's seen what dogs can do.

As mentioned before in this post, König's first reaction to fears he can see is to lash out. He will punch or kick without thinking. He doesn't even yell or gasp when he does it. It's just what he does. If you go to sneak up on him, you'd best be ready to dodge. He feels really bad about it, and he's been banned from 10 different haunted houses around the world.

For fears he can't physically lash out at, he will just keep an eye on things. OODA loop, you know? Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. That's going on in his head over and over again. If he's out in public, that's going on in the back of his head. If he sees a dog, he's going through multiple different scenarios and evaluating the likelihood of each possibility. Normally he's a quiet man, but he goes deathly quiet when he's afraid. If you notice him freaking out like this, it might be nice to ground him by getting his attention and then taking his hand, or distracting him from what he's thinking about. He might not say it until later, but he'll be thankful.

[svn-bangtan]

Seven (Clean version?)

»pairing: Idol!Jungkook x reader

»genre: BTS | 13+ | Fluff

»wc/date: 3.1k | July 2023

» warnings: Based on Seven music video? Mentions of smut? Jungkook being Jungkook.

»Summary: After ending her 7 year relationship Y/n shares that her breakup with Jungkook was partially due to his unrealistic desire for sex seven days a week. If that wasn’t enough, Y/n seemingly keeps seeing Jungkook everywhere. Just know a lot has happened in the seven days they have been apart

» notes: I was thinking about making an explicit version of this, but haven’t decided if I should, so you all should let me know.

»  m.list | Taglist | Thoughts? Comments? Concerns

Seoul's bustling city lights painted a vivid canvas as Y/n and Jimin sat in a secret and quiet area of their favorite restaurant, savoring the delectable flavors of their homeland. The aroma of sizzling Korean delicacies filled the air, adding to the festive atmosphere of the lively eatery.

Jimin couldn't resist his playful nature, and as he took a sip of his tea, he asked with a mischievous grin, "Okay, so let me get this straight, you broke up last week with Jungkook because he wants to fuck you right seven days a week?" His laughter was infectious, causing Y/n to sigh in defeat.

"Seriously, Jimin? Is that all you think about?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, unable to hold back a smile. "Yes, that's one of the reasons, but it's not the only one. Our physical relationship became overwhelming, and I didn't expect that to be such a challenge in our relationship."

Jimin couldn't stop laughing, imagining poor Jungkook keeping track of his seven-day schedule. "I can't even imagine! How does he have that much energy? Is he secretly training for the Olympics?"

Y/n chuckled, playing along with Jimin's comedic flair. "You should know, you used to live with him! Maybe he's been doing some intense stamina training behind my back."

Jimin laughed heartily, "Oh, Y/n, you always have the most interesting stories. Who would've thought that 'too much love' could be an issue?"

"Do you think I'm being silly?" Y/n asked, her tone more serious.

Jimin reached out and patted his friend's hand reassuringly. "Not at all! Relationships are complicated, and each one is unique. What matters is how you feel and what you need. Relationships should have a healthy balance of emotional and physical connection. Maybe he didn't fully understand how exhausting it was for you."

"Do you think so?" Y/n asked, hoping for some insight from his ever-entertaining friend.

Jimin nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you know how guys can sometimes get carried away by their 'manly urges.' Perhaps he thought he was auditioning for a K-drama series titled 'Seven Nights of Passion.'"

Y/n couldn't help but giggle at the mental image. "Okay, that's enough pun-ishment for me."

Jimin grinned. "Deal! But in all seriousness, communication is key. Have an open and honest conversation with him about how you feel. If he truly cares about you, he'll understand and find a way to meet you halfway."

Y/n nodded, feeling grateful for his friend's support. "You're right, Jimin. It's time for a serious heart-to-heart. No puns, no innuendos, just a genuine conversation about our needs and expectations."

Jimin raised an eyebrow playfully. "Wait, no puns? Are you sure you're not pun-ishing me too harshly?"

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. "Okay, just one pun. But only if you promise to be serious when I need it."

With a grin, Jimin encouraged Y/n to continue, "Anyways, tell me more, spill the spicy details!"

"Well," Y/n began, "ever since we decided to take a break, I swear I've been seeing Jungkook everywhere. It's like he's haunting me or something."

Jimin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Everywhere? Like how?"

Y/n nodded, looking a bit flustered. "Well..."

-

Y/n sat on the train, her earphones on, listening to her favorite K-pop playlist. The rhythmic beats tried to drown out her thoughts, but memories of Jungkook kept resurfacing. She leaned her head against the window, feeling a mix of emotions from nostalgia to frustration.

As the train pulled to a stop at a station, Y/n glanced up from her reverie and caught a glimpse of something that made her heart skip a beat. There, just outside the window, hanging onto the train was Jungkook, his signature smile plastered on his face. He waved enthusiastically, trying to get her attention.

Y/n blinked, thinking she must be imagining things again. "No way," she mumbled to herself, her eyes widening as she looked again. "This can't be real."

But there he was, unmistakably Jungkook, waving like a happy kid. A shiver ran down Y/n's spine, and she decided to pull out her earphones to make sure she wasn't hearing things too.

The music stopped, and the train's ambient noises filled the void. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at Jungkook outside the train. "What on earth is going on?" she whispered, her mind racing with disbelief.

She leaned back in her seat, trying to gather her thoughts, hoping that this was all a bizarre coincidence. "Okay, breathe, Y/n. It's probably just someone who looks like him," she said, attempting to reassure herself.

Summoning the courage to face the possibility, Y/n looked up once more, and her jaw dropped. Jungkook was still there, hanging on the outside of the train, waving even more enthusiastically now.

"Y/n, are you alright?" a concerned voice asked from the seat next to her.

She turned to find an elderly woman looking at her with worry in her eyes. "I, uh, I think I just saw someone I know outside the train," Y/n stammered, trying to make sense of it all.

The woman chuckled kindly. "Oh, dear. Must be your mind playing tricks on you. Don't worry too much about it."

Nodding, Y/n closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. "You're right. Maybe I need some sleep or something."

When she opened her eyes again and looked outside, Jungkook was gone. The train had already left the station, and there was no sign of him anywhere.

"Y/n, are you sure you're okay?" the woman asked again, genuine concern in her voice.

Y/n managed a weak smile. "I think I will be. Thank you for checking on me."

-

Jimin chuckled, "That's your mind playing tricks on you, Y/n. It's common after a breakup to see the person you were with in random places."

"It sounds ridiculous, I know!" Y/n chuckled, "But wait, there's more. Another time, when I was walking home in the afternoon, I swear I saw him lying lifeless in the middle of the street. But when the paramedics came, he suddenly got up and chased after me with flowers!"

Jimin couldn't contain his laughter, "This is better than a K-drama! You should write a romantic comedy based on your experiences! Or, you know, since Jungkook is part of the biggest group in the world, not to brag, this could make a very good music video."

Y/n chuckled, "You got jokes Jimin, I know it sounds crazy! But wait, there's more. One stormy night, I was walking home, and he was once again following me, and as the wind picked up, he flew away!"

Jimin's eyes widened with amusement, "Y/n, you've got quite the imagination! Flying ex-boyfriends are a new one for me!"

"And it doesn't end there, I also dreamt of going to his funeral," Y/n continued, "and he wasn't even dead! He used it as an opportunity to finally talk to me. Can you believe it?"

Jimin burst into laughter again, "You are one crazy dreamer, my friend!"

Y/n couldn't help but laugh along with Jimin. "I know, it's ridiculous! I must be losing my mind."

Jimin placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "You're not losing your mind, Y/n. Breakups can mess with your emotions and make you see things differently. But you know what? Maybe all these wild experiences are just a way for your subconscious to process the breakup and your feelings for Jungkook."

"Do you think so?" Y/n asked, feeling a bit more reassured.

"Absolutely!" Jimin exclaimed. "But remember, you need to talk to Jungkook honestly about how you feel. Maybe he's been trying to reach out to you and make things right."

Y/n nodded, "You're right, Jimin. I can't keep avoiding him forever. We need to have a sit-down conversation."

Jimin smiled, "That's the spirit! You've got this, Y/n. And no more flying ex-boyfriends, okay?"

Y/n laughed, "Deal! No more wild imaginings. Just a simple, honest conversation."

-

Its Wednesday, and like always the laundromat was bustling with customers, and Y/n found herself in the midst of the chaos, trying to navigate her way through the maze of washing machines. Clutching her laundry basket, she sighed, wondering if she would ever get her laundry done in peace.

Little did she know that lurking behind her, sitting nonchalantly on top of some washing machines, was none other than Jungkook, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He watched her intently, ready to seize any opportunity to talk to her.

As Y/n moved to the next row of washing machines, Jungkook stealthily followed, trying to get her attention. "Y/n, please, just talk to me! You love when I jump right in, I'm offering all of me and I can show you what devotion is, " he implored with puppy dog eyes.

Ignoring him, Y/n pretended not to notice and continued sorting her laundry. She hoped that he would get the message and leave her alone, but Jungkook seemed persistent.

"You wrap around me and you give me life" he insisted, stepping closer to her, "And that's why night after night, I'll be fucking' you right!"

Y/n's patience was wearing thin, and the laundromat's chaos was only adding to her stress. She tried to maintain her cool, but Jungkook's continuous pestering was getting under her skin.

As they stood across from each other, the unthinkable happened – the laundromat started to flood! At first, Y/n didn't pay much attention to it, thinking it was just a minor issue with the machines. But as the water reached ankle-deep, she realized something was seriously wrong.

"Oh great, just what I needed," Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

But Jungkook continued to love-bomb her, completely oblivious to the fact that they were now standing in knee-deep water. "We can have the most amazing time together!"

The situation was becoming absurd, and Y/n couldn't believe Jungkook's persistence. As they continued to stand across from each other, the water in the laundromat started to rise steadily.

"I can leave you with an afterglow if you just let me." Jungkook pleaded, seemingly oblivious to the rising water.

"Do you not see what's happening?" Y/n exclaimed, gesturing to the water around them. "The place is flooding, and all you can think about is getting back together?"

Jungkook smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I guess I got carried away with my feelings."

"Do you always have to make everything about you?" Y/n snapped, frustration boiling over. "I need space to think, and you're not making it easy."

As the water reached their knees, Jungkook's determination didn't waver. "I'll do anything to make you happy, Y/n. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

"Do you really think you can fix everything with just words?" Y/n said, shaking her head. "Actions speak louder, you know."

The water continued to rise, reaching their chests now. Y/n couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation. "This is insane. I can't believe I'm standing here, having this conversation with you while we're both drenched!"

Jungkook seemed undeterred by the flood, still trying to get closer to Y/n. "I love you, Y/n, and I'll do anything to prove it."

"Do you even hear yourself?" she exclaimed, exasperated. "This is not romantic; it's just ridiculous."

As the water continued to rise, Y/n decided she'd had enough. Without any warning, she took a deep breath and dived underwater, trying to escape Jungkook's relentless pursuit. To her surprise, Jungkook followed suit, diving after her like a determined swimmer.

Y/n emerged from underneath the water of the flooded laundromat, gasping for breath as she coughed up water. She looked around, expecting to see Jungkook still pursuing her with that playful grin on his face, but to her surprise, there was no trace of him anywhere.

"Did he finally give up?" she wondered aloud, scanning the area. The water had risen considerably, and the laundromat was now a watery mess. Customers were evacuating, and staff members were rushing to address the flooding.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Y/n decided it was time to leave. She waded through the water, heading towards the exit. As she stepped out onto the street, she glanced back at the laundromat one last time, half-expecting Jungkook to pop out from behind a machine or splash around in the water.

But there was still no sign of him.

"What is going on?" She asks herself. Shrugging off her doubts, Y/n decided to focus on more pressing matters – like finding a dry place to change out of her soaking-wet clothes

-

As the rain poured down on the darkened streets, Y/n walked with a heavy heart, her clothes drenched from the unexpected downpour. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and amusement at the reason behind her breakup with Jungkook. Who would've thought that their love would be tested by something as absurd as seven-day-a-week intimacy?

As she trudged along, she heard faint footsteps behind her, and when she turned around, she half-expected to see Jungkook standing there, his smile cheeky as ever. But the street was empty, and she sighed, "Great, now I'm even imagining Jungkook in the rain. I'm officially losing it."

But the footsteps persisted, and to her utter surprise, when she turned back around, there he was – Jungkook, looking as soaked and bedraggled as she felt. He was panting slightly from running to catch up with her.

"Y/n!" Jungkook exclaimed between breaths, "I knew I'd find you. I can't let you walk home alone in this rain."

She blinked in disbelief, unsure if she was hallucinating or not. "You followed me in the rain to apologize for the whole seven-days-a-week thing?"

Jungkook nodded earnestly, water dripping from his hair. "Yes, I need to talk to you. I realized how ridiculous and unfair it was of me to expect that from you. I'm sorry, Y/n."

"Do you have any idea how silly that whole thing was?" she asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Jungkook's eyes widened, and he chuckled, "Yeah, I know. It sounds absurd now that I think about it."

"Do you have any idea how tired I would be if we actually attempted that?" Y/n continued, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

Jungkook grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, it would've been impossible, huh?"

"Absolutely!" she replied, her laughter ringing in the rain-soaked air. "I mean, did you think we were training for an Olympic event or something?"

"I guess I got carried away with my 'manly urges,'" Jungkook admitted with a playful shrug.

Y/n shook her head in amusement, "Well, lesson learned, I hope. Next time, let's not turn our relationship into a K-drama plot."

"I promise," Jungkook said, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "I won't let something so silly come between us again."

"Do you really expect me to take you back after all this?" she teased, enjoying the moment of lightheartedness.

Jungkook stepped closer, raindrops creating a misty barrier between them. "Yes, I do. Because I realized that I love you, Y/n. And not just for seven days a week, but every single day, no matter the weather."

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she couldn't help but be charmed by his determination and genuine remorse. "You're lucky I have a soft spot for silly boys like you," she said, her lips curling into a playful smile.

"Then does that mean you'll take me back?" Jungkook asked, hope evident in his eyes.

Y/n pretended to ponder for a moment, then stuck out her hand. "Well, since you're already soaked and looking like a lost puppy, I suppose you can walk me home."

Jungkook's face broke into a wide grin as he took her hand, interlocking their fingers. "Deal! And I promise no more crazy demands, just a whole lot of love and laughter."

As they walked side by side in the rain, laughter and joyous banter filling the air, Jungkook couldn't help himself but playfully sing, "I'll be loving you right, seven days a week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday."

"That would be a catchy song," Jungkook remarked, looking pleased with himself.

Y/n's eyes sparkled mischievously as she recalled her conversation with Jimin earlier. "You know," she said, "if you ever decide to make a music video for that song, I have a fun plot idea."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? Do tell."

"Well," Y/n began, "imagine this – a guy who's obsessed with the idea of love seven days a week. He tries to make his partner happy with grand gestures, but it's all a bit much for her. She's tired and overwhelmed, just like I was. And the guy, played by you, keeps popping up everywhere she goes, just like you did in my crazy imaginings."

Jungkook laughed, "So, basically a music video version of our ridiculous situation?"

"Exactly!" Y/n grinned. "It would be comedic and lighthearted, showing that love can be wonderful and fun but also overwhelming if taken to the extreme."

"I love it," Jungkook said, nodding appreciatively. "And you know what? We could even do an explicit version of the song, where I say 'fucking' instead of 'loving,' just to make it a clear representation of what we just went through."

Y/n burst into laughter, covering her mouth in amusement. "Oh, Jungkook! Only you would come up with such an idea. It's genius and utterly ridiculous at the same time."

He winked at her, "That's what I do best."

Y/n looked at him, an amused glint in her eyes, and asked, "Were you there on Wednesday at the laundromat when it flooded?"

Jungkook looked confused, "What? No, I wasn't."

With a grin, Y/n confessed, "After we separated, I started seeing you in the most weird situations, like at the laundromat, and I thought I was losing my mind."

Jungkook burst into laughter, "Really? I would love to hear about all the places you found me!"

As they continued their walk in the rain, they couldn't help but be grateful for the silliness and laughter that had brought them back together. The idea of a music video, even if it was just in jest, gave them a sense of comfort and closure.

"I'm glad we can laugh about it now," Y/n said, looking at Jungkook fondly. "It shows how much we've grown together and how we can handle anything that comes our way."

Jungkook smiled warmly, pulling her closer as they walked back home.

[thechibilitwick]

As an honorary Shidou apologist, I am breaking my silence. I’ve finally decided to go on a rant on why I don't think Kirisaki Shidou is an organ harvester.

(fair warning I like absolutely suck ass at organizing my thoughts, so if some of this is incoherent or if it seems like i'm repeating myself my bad 😭 I mainly wrote this for fun)

So, I'm aware that this theory is the most popular consensus when it comes to Shidou (and tbh, I think part of it is because a lot of people kinda look over him? Like at least a tiny bit more than the others, considering a lot of people also don’t realize how his main victim was probably his son and not his wife, but I digress) (plus I think all milgram characters are looked over to a certain extent). While I do think parts of it are probably accurate in some way, I don't think he was a full-on organ harvester (as in he actively stole from patients through illegal means. emphasis on actively) and that the theory in and of itself is flimsy at best. He's morally questionable, yes, but it’s more in the sense that he’s a somewhat apathetic guy who lacked understanding on how his own set of morals and values (i.e. pushing for organ donation) could be seen as wrong. So if he were an organ harvester, wouldn’t he be aware that it’s illegal? That’s what confuses me whenever people bring it up. I don't actually doubt that he may have done something illegal for his family's sake, it’s just that I still highly doubt it was something he actively did. And that seems to be what a lot of people think when they refer to the theory. (if i’m wrong please forgive me, i just assume organ harvester shidou = people think he did it as a job)

Anyways, more under the cut for those interested (it's a bit lengthy my apologies)

It then kinda trickles down to how his guilt stems more from the consequences of his actions rather than the actual action of taking organs. The root of his guilt comes from the realization that basically asking families to pull the plug and use their loved ones' organs for donation is a very, very hard decision; one that he kept pressuring for. If he was an illegal organ harvester, and was aware that his actions were in fact illegal, why the hell would he feel so guilty to the point that he’d start having suicidal ideations? That’s the key difference between his profession and his possible criminal activities; one is a burden both emotionally and morally, the other is more or less a literal burden. And based off of Shidou's character, he seems to be much more emotionally affected. That's also why I think a lot of people jump to the conclusion that his guilt stems from his actual actions rather than their effects. (does that make sense oh lord i am going ☝️🤓 so hard rn)

I get that some parts of his MV or lyrics seem to be suggesting that, but also it’s important to note that Shidou has a very strong bias against himself and definitely painted himself in a negative light. I mean, that's why he thinks every single preceding patient before the final incident is a victim to him, why he shows himself staying professional in a professional setting as apathetic (minus the pressuring part), and why he literally equates his job to STEALING. Not only that but, imo, it's also a little too unrealistic and might not actually fit the criteria of Milgram. Milgram is for crimes that are in a morally grey area. So if it really was organ harvesting, is it really in a grey area? (though I guess you could say that doing it for family's sake would be, but that's only for his family. He'd have no reason to do it otherwise). Plus, it'd make more sense and fit the theme of touching upon social issues (i.e. abortion, bullying, societal standards, mental health, etc.) if shidou’s entire dilemma was in regards to (albeit questionably done) organ donation, a complicated ethical topic in Japan.

Throw Down actually gives a pretty good rough idea of Shidou's thoughts towards his crime and his feelings in regards to it. He felt like he was blinded by his own values, and that inadvertently caused him to be unaware of the suffering he caused through his job. It really does shock me that he somehow was able to pull-off getting a forgiven verdict in T1 because he certainly comes off as cold and uncaring in regards to his work.

I think the final bridge in Throw Down kinda summarizes his entire mindset, actually.

​​Now slowly close your eye, put your regret on display Wishing you for someone else's sake With the same expression no matter who comes I don’t feel scared because I don’t know

Shidou doesn't quite understand the feelings of his patient's families, and therefore he acts remorseful and sympathetic more than he actually feels. Why? Well, because he didn't know. Up until that point, he never understood the weight of his actions, and focused on his role as a doctor. "This is an upsetting subject, yes, but it's for the greater good, right?” A braindead person has little to no chances of living, so why not use this as an opportunity to donate their organs? Moreover, as a doctor I believe it’s typical to be "emotionally detached” (for lack of a better word) since I’d assume becoming emotionally connected with a patient would make things at least a bit messy.

His mindset comes crumbling down though, presumably because he experienced the same or a similar situation. This part remains muddy for me, since we don't know much about what the actual cause for Shidou's guilt is. There are several possibilities, with the most plausible ones being:

he lost his own family member and had to go through with the same decision,

he tried to save a family member using donated organs, but failed, making it seem like everything he has done as a doctor was in vain

(a secret third option would be him making someone he cares about make that decision but it's very unlikely and also requires too much mental gymnastics)

But no matter what exactly he did, it all trickles down to the validity of his morals. After realizing the pain of losing a loved one, the struggle of trying to save them, and the unfortunate failure which left all efforts practically pointless, Shidou would understand the actual weight of his actions and why all those families were so reluctant to let go of their own.

This is even more evident in his T2 voice drama, Asclepius.

"In order to save the life of someone you don't know, please let me kill your family," I told them. It doesn't even take much thinking to realize how cruel that is, but… I didn't realize it until the very end.

This is the gist of Shidou's crime, or at least part of it (considering he says "Well, about halfway" when Es asks if their judgment was right). Again, this tells us that Shidou's guilt comes from the act of the effects of organ donation rather than the literal action. And this also implies that his "murders" did in fact have to do with being in a medical situation, it's just the way he went about it was at the very least morally questionable.

I will also acknowledge that he says he killed for selfish reasons, which most likely relates to trying to save his own family member. Here he could possibly have actually done something illegal such as tampering with patients or illegally taking their organs (latter is a stretch imo). Plus, his distorted T2 voice trailer line is literally "You're in the way, hurry up and die" which would only make sense in the context of waiting for a patient to die. But it could also just be him continuing to pressure for organ donation, but now with his own selfish motives.

Going back to the "halfway" comment, while I personally believe it might have to do with how Shidou views his crime as more than just taking organs, it more likely implies that something else happened that Shidou would consider murder. That being the actual death of his family member. It's implied through Throw Down that he was trying to save someone but failed, which he was responsible for. Then from there it'd make sense to assume that he would feel some form of guilt for the rest of his patients, either for the reason of failing to actually utilize donated organs even with the opportunity of being able to save them, or for just realizing the what it actually feels like to have to give up on your loved one. (does. does that make any sense.)

So yeah, I don’t think he’s an organ harvester due to what’s known regarding his crime, the reasoning for his guilt, and with the way he is as a character. The most I’d personally believe is that he decided to harvest organs for the sake of his loved one, but even that seems like a stretch to me. Thus, that is why I believe Kirisaki Shidou is not an organ harvester.

Anyways I’ve rambled on long enough, thank you for reading if you did and remember to drink water and vote shidou innocent in trial 3 because i will shit my pants if he doesn't get inno

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: The Tithing House

For decades the gang of highwaymen known as the Gallerwood Outlaws were famed and feared for equal measure, melting out of the forest to rob merchants, nobles, even mages, before vanishing back into the trees. Even after their awful deaths at the hand of a bountyhunter some years ago folk still sing of their deeds, and of the secret hideaway in which they stored their ill gotten gains.

Adventure Hooks:

Folk have been saying that the ghosts of the Gallerwood outlaws have been stalking the roads near where their bodies were hanged, still looking for one last haul. The party are tasked with investigating rumours after a fearful carter was set upon by these spectres, losing something precious in the process. This provides the excellent framing for a first adventure as each member of the party can be invested in retrieving something different out of the carter's cargo giving them a reason to work in the same direction.

As they investigate, the party will discover that these ghosts are infact local toughs who have dressed up and painted themselves phosphorescent cave lichen in order to shake down passers by. After giving them a thrashing and a Scooby-Doo unmasking, the party can retrieve the stolen goods and return to the inn for celebratory drinking. In the dead of night one of the party awakens to a shadowy figure looming at the foot of their bed, spectral face illuminated by the ghoul-light that flickers in the bowl of their pipe. Evidently the story of the party's antics has spread, and it appears one of the real ghosts of the Gallerwood wants a word.

Frauds and phantoms aside,  entirely possible for the party to stumble across the dungeon while exploring the surrounding swampland, only realizing it served as a bandit hideout after stumbling into the remnants of their camp. 

Setup: The ghost introduces himself as the late Cullen Carver, once founding and now final member of the Gallerwood outlaws. Cullen has an offer for the party, and is willing to guide them to the cache kept by his fellow bandits if they will perform for him a last request. As Cullen explains it, neither he nor the other outlaw spirits will be able to rest so long as there is no end to their tale, and there can be no end so long as the mystery of their hidden treasure remains unsolved in the common imagination.

Cullen is in high spirits despite being dead, so the party should expect some gallows humour as the hanged man leads them through the swamp's hazards, eventually arriving at the outlaw's secret base: The Tithing House, a long abandoned temple of Erathis concealed within the depths of the wilderness that's become infested with all sorts of mire creatures since the thieves met their end.

Challenges & Complications:

The Outlaws kept their treasure in the temple's crypts, and to access these the part are going to need to venture through the gauntlet of dark chambers and traps the bandits set up to keep eachother's hands out of the cookie jar. Cullen can help with some of these, but the whole point of the traps was to keep his fellow thieves honest. The only other way into the vault is through a heavily reinforced door, the key to which is currently in the possession of the bountyhunter who hung the Gallerwoods from trees in the firstplace.

While the party has the pick of spoils, Cullen points out a particular chest kept apart from the rest and calls upon them to fulfill their end of the bargain. This chest was Cullen's nestegg, put aside from numerous heists and robberies to be delivered to his wife and children in the event of his death. With no surviving highwaymen to carry out the promise Cullen's REAL unfinished business comes to light. The party can keep their word, or they can snipe the treasure for themselves, earning the spectre's undying enmity and curse to boot.

To get out of the the Tithing House the party will need to face off with a demon of avarice.. but not in the traditional form of bossfight. He'll approach just as they're leaving the dungeon, taking the form of a plump old man with a grandfatherly smile who wears the spotless robes of an Erathian friar despite the flooded cemetery in which they stand. He is all calm words and politeness, congratulating them on making off with such a fine haul and urging them to never mind that silly old ghost and his wishes, banishing Cullen beneath a nearby grave so that they can talk cordially. The Smiling Friar explains that he had a deal with the highwaymen; feeding off the greed of their crimes in exchange for concealing their hideaway and passage through the forest. There's no reason the party couldn't renew the deal, become the new band of legendary thieves, save that they'll have to forsake their ghostly guide and his last act of charity. Should they turn him down the Smiling Friar will call up the dead of the cemetery to slaughter them, clearing the way for the next band of ambitious treasurehunters.

Art 1 Art 2