#please forgive me for constantly forgetting to post here

[ash-underdash]

Our current detective agency!!!

[smuttykdrama]

[Hyunsu & Chanyoung as Subs ; SWEET HOME]

Hi, this is my first smut drabble and first post so please be kind! also note that i've only watched through sweet home once! i've just finished the second season lol. ><

Warnings: smut, sub!hyunsu & chanyoung, dom!reader, female!reader, masochism, only read if you're eighteen or above.

This is written with an older reader in mind, with hyunsu being 19, the reader being 29, and chanyoung being 25. Forgive my HUGE noona kink. 🥲 Even tho I'm only 22 lol.

Hyunsu

● Sub!Hyunsu, who only wants to please you, his noona, regardless of his own pleasure.

● Sub!Hyunsu who eats you out like you're a goddamn five course meal, savouring every part of you because you're his everything. The only light in his world.

● Sub!Hyunsu, who needs your praise like it's a drug. He's sadly very insecure, constantly worried that he's not doing well enough or that his body isn't good enough for you. You'd soon change those ridiculous thoughts of his.

● Sub!Hyunsu who is a sweet and caring boyfriend in the day, but a masochistic freak at night. You definitely take advantage of his healing abilities, allowing you to make Hyunsu's body your canvas. Scratches down his back, his front. Biting his chest, teasing him, and testing his pain tolerance.

● Sub!Hyunsu, who, after being in captivity and chained up, wants nothing more than to replace those memories with YOU. Tie him to the bedpost, put a hard metal collar around his neck. Anything to forget those painful times...and make new memories with you.

● Sub!Hyunsu who literally hate fucks you. Not because he's mad at you. But at himself. You know when he's depressed, because he shoves you onto the bed and buries his cock in your tight heat without warning. "Sorry, Noona...i really need you right now...i don't want to talk...i just need you."

● Sub! Hyunsu who gives you the best aftercare, even if he's the one who's all fucked out after a session. He'll even go out of his way to explore the city just to find a scented candle to light for you.

● Sub!Hyunsu who's monster wants you too, having felt just how satisfied Hyunsu was with you.

Chanyoung

● Sub!Chanyoung, who's a complete virgin when you first meet him, and he's unable to meet your gaze when you sleep together for the first time.

● Sub!Chanyoung who is so overstimulated the moment your pussy clenches around him that he doesn't know what to do with his hands other than clutch the pillow as you ride him.

● Sub!Chanyoung who loves being bossed around in bed, and being told what to do. Want him to fuck you like you're unbreakable? Got it. Want to finger him until hes a blushing mess beneath you? Done! He lives to be your living, breathing sex toy.

● Sub!Chanyoung who keeps his uniform on while he eats you out, having just come back from a mission outside the stadium, knowing about your soldier kink. He looks just so handsome in it, but oh so much prettier with it off.

● Sub!Chanyoung whos thighs and lower abdomen are the most sensitive parts of his body. The moment you start leaving hickeys on his thighs or tracing the lines of his abs, Chanyoung goes crazy. "Not there, jagiya...i'll go crazy."

● Sub!Chanyoung who kneels at your feet after a long day, practically begging to bed you, looking up at you with his puppy like eyes.

● Sub!Chanyoung who is so drunk on your kisses, that he could come in his pants from the mere sensation of your lips on his.

● Sub!Chanyoung who can't believe that even after the world went to shit, he still has you to look after him. He may be your protector, but really, you're the one who saved him.

[END]

(A/N): Wow first smut headcanons!! I am here totally for the Hyunsu switch & Chanyoung sub agenda. Please like and leave a comment/reblog if you liked ^^ Let me know what Sweet Home Hyunsu & Chanyoung reaction you'd like next! I currently only write for those 2 characters :)

[aristocratic-otter]

Hey y’all. It’s been a rough month, so thank you to all of you who keep tagging me in spite of my silence. And for those of you waiting for new chapters to one of my WIPs, please forgive me. The good news is, I have a week off of work, and I’ll be able to put out new chapters of at least two of my WIPs, as well as the first post from one of those below that you haven’t seen. So stay tuned!

Thank you to : @thewholelemon, @youarenevertooold, @nausikaaa, @wellbelesbian, @cutestkilla, @monbons, @artsyunderstudy, @ileadacharmedlife, @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @whatevertheweather, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @ic3-que3n, @bookish-bogwitch, @thewholelemon, @alexalexinii, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe,and @blackberrysummerblog for the tags over the last several weeks. 

On to the snippets!

From Saving Simon Snow: (slightly more than six sentences)

I don’t know what I expect when I look at him. Recriminations about my family? I’d deserve them. My father and aunt have been vicious and abusive towards my now-husband. I’ll never be done making that up to him. Or maybe he wants to actually talk about the events of the day? Yesterday, I mean, since the clock has clearly ticked over into a new day.

Whatever I expected, it wasn’t Simon’s blue eyes intensely boring into mine as he says, “Can I kiss you?”

From the Heart in the Well

“You–” I start, and my voice is a croak. I swallow, despite my horror at the liquid still laying on my tongue. I try again. “How could you?”

Simon looks apologetic, but his chin is jutting up nonetheless. “Baz, you needed it—” he begins. 

“You’ve made me into a monster!” I cry. 

From Snow Fox–nothing new this week. I'm researching my next chapter at the moment.

From TikTok Dancer: 

Normally, by now I’d be giving coy glances to my chosen partner of the night. I like to have made my choice at least an hour before we quit for the day, so I can make my interest known. It’s a bit of a dance in itself, this small courtship. 

Tonight, unless I find the courage to approach Baz again—why do I even remember his name? Most of the time I forget their names minutes after they say them—I’ll be going to bed without any release. Because nobody in the crowd has drawn my eyes today, despite several pretty people making eyes at me. 

I’ve only got eyes for Baz.

I don’t understand this.

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

One of the tools we rescued from the ship before it sank was a hand axe, and it’s honestly been worth it’s weight in gold. Half the building I’ve done in the last few years would have been impossible without it. I don’t need Davy’s voice in my head growling, “you break those tools, boy, I’ll break you.” I’m constantly aware of the fragility of the life we’ve built here. If I break an axe…no more building out of wood. If the island suffers a dry year, no fruit on our plates. If one of us gets sick…no doctors

From Cupid’s Shield:

My aunt Fiona loves recounting the time he showed up at Watford’s Valentine ball when she was a fourth year. She wasn’t old enough to attend, but she’d snuck into a secret passage that passed the ballroom to spy on her friends, who were fifteen because their birthday (they were twins apparently) was just before the deadline to attend. Reading between the lines, I think Fi was sweet on one of the pair and wanted to make sure he wasn’t making time with some other girl at the ball. 

According to my Aunt, Cupid just materialized in midair beneath the great chandelier, and, with a wicked grin, began shooting incorporeal arrows at every mage in sight. Fiona took great pleasure in recounting just who was compelled into snogging their sworn enemies or the girlfriends/ boyfriends of their best friends. Apparently the event was a source of endless drama over the next several months, and my aunt lives for that shit. 

Of course, my aunts’ maybe-boyfriend escaped unscathed, or I think she wouldn’t have found the whole thing so amusing.

From my COBB project:

“Director,” I say, “It’s good to see you.”

“And it’s wonderful to see you, my boy. In fact, your return just at this time could not have been more fortuitous.”

I know all too well what that means. My heart sinks into my shoes. I just got back…I haven’t even unpacked yet…

“Sir?” I question, directing every fibre of my being towards hoping the director is not about to say what I think he’s about to say. Of course, I’m not that lucky.

“We have a situation, Simon,” he says, letting his face fall into graver lines. 

Tagging: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @messofthejess, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @larkral, @confused-bi-queer, @rimeswithpurple, and @mooncello, @theearlgreymage, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @best--dress, @nightimedreamersghost

[fuckingloginwall]

✎ I Love My Selves

✴ Post-Standard Imposter AU ft. Your Self-Insert (or at least one of them)

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

One second Teyvat was drooling for your death, the next you were the most beloved deity in the world.

Pretty hard to believe the latter given your first impression of this nightmare, one you'll never wake up from.

Said nightmare was constantly proclaiming it's love for you, right after trying to kill you . . . Yeah you've seen enough horror to know where this is going.

But all humans need to be loved.

You'll never turn to Teyvat for that, and nobody from Earth can fill in that role, nor will your trauma let you reassure yourself, so what do you do?

Practice self-love, but with extra steps.

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

⌡ 🔏 Reader from Faraway, be on guard, Cults, Religious Themes, and Mentioned Execution, are features of these pages. ⌠

⌡ 🔏 Do come and tell me if there are any other details I have failed to alert thee of . . . ⌠

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

The Crowning Of The True Creator, a seven-day-long festivity all of Teyvat was celebrating alongside the execution of the Imposter.

It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, one of prayer and salvation for Teyvat after daring to obey the Fake. One where you and your creations would forgive and forget, pushing aside the past and making way for a glorious future.

Or it was supposed to be.

Predictably, gods—or at least those human enough—never forgive and never forget something as wretched as witch hunts and attempted lynching.

You know this better than anyone else.

And as if that wasn't enough you were declared The Creator, the creator of a universe coded and drawn by the hands of a corporation you had no part in.

And all of this because of some funky gold blood in your veins? Bah! It was all bullshit!

You were no imposter and you were no creator, but because of your flesh and blood, nooobody believe you.

So all you could do was smile and nod. Smile and nod to the every word of these cultists, your captors.

It was during one song speaking of your alleged Infinity Powerful Abilities™️ that you couldn't help but wonder . . .

. . . that yeah, you have no powers, but what if you did? What's the harm in trying out?

During a heavenly break from the masses, in the privacy of your gilded cage, you poured all your focus into trying to create a special somebody. Somebody you did create.

And create you did.

There they were in front of you, your self-insert, made from your personality and your desires. Somebody you lived through.

And the best part is that they understood you, were bearable (maybe even better!), and you freaking enjoyed their presence, flaws be damned (or even welcomed)! even those you hated in yourself and everyone else

For the rest of the week you two were glued to the hip, conversing with one another and doing as you wished. Never mind the cultists you had to please and expectations to meet! You had a friend to be besties with!

For your Self-Insert it was a realization—to say the least—that they didn't exist before you brought them here. Their memories and stories, their world, those they knew, everything was just fiction you dreamt up. Once upon a time they weren't real!

But they were real now, and your the reason why.

And you were somebody who lovingly made them, lived the unreal reality alongisde them. Someone who handpicked each part of their every being and loved the gestalt for what it was.

Not the forgone past. Not the potential future. The current now.

You poured your soul into them, brought to them to life—

"—and the universe said 'I love you because you are love.'" Recited your creation to whoever it was they humored.

'And so too was the universe loved' they'd think to themselves, but Teyvat purged that certainty from you. Nevermind the past. Just as you had, they would lend the same love given to them. Love you held for them, and thus yourself. After all . . .

Those stupid Allogenes may have been your characters to play with once upon a time, but they were your real Vessel, one whose very being was a part of you, and nothing could change that . . .

Your self-proclaimed Acolytes would watch with envy. Was it shameful to hold such a grudge towards something tailormade, so trusted, so perfect for such a purpose?!?! Yes. Yes it was.

But how are the creations of a forgotten body ever to compare to an art piece, that of the current self?

—☵☵☰☰☰☵☵—

Comment below any "[they] would not fucking say [or do] that" moments you experienced while reading this one lol

A break away from my own Imposter AU.

Reader assumes that since they didn't actually participate in making Genshin Impact, only seemed to have Gold blood to make them stand out, and zero memories of any past life, that they weren't really special, just unlucky enough to be the product of the cult's obsessions but that wasn't the case lol.

So yeah, since you're stuck here, might as well make the most of it and see if you truly have powers to make and break

You have the power indeed! You use it to make your Self-Insert real and break the hearts of Teyvat once again!

Why have a cult that tried to kill you when you can have your Self-Insert with you instead?

You're SI's thoughts on you? obvs they have some love for you, but what kind of love that is, is up to you.

Also you consider your SI your only creation lmao

Anyways worldbuilding

The Crowning is an event every nation spends seven days celebrating, and The Creator attends the main event in a different nation each day. So for example, Day 1: Mondstadt, Day 2: Liyue, etc., etc..

Lots of fighting on what order the Creator's visits would go in. It's whatever you imagine.

For the most part Teyvat pray, sacrifices and gives offers to the Creator. Partakes in purification rituals to be cleansed of sin (cuz of the Imposter Hunt and Imposter being deemed the Creator) and spends the rest of the day celebrating the Creator's descent.

But the day the Creator is in the nation? It's all jubilation and sky-high celebration. That's when the celebration of the Nation peaks and everyone is trying to at least get a glance of the Creator. The next day they presume as scheduled afterwards.

Once reader's Self-Insert comes into being and is brought into public eye, word spreads fast, especially to the next nations the duo is to visit.

Opinions are split.

Because during the event, the Creator has personally created a being, somebody who takes up all their attention, giving less attention than before to their worshippers, favoring them just like that.

The nations before this are glad to have more acknowledgement from the Creator than the nations yet to be visited due to the SI's abscence.

Others are estatic that the Creator's newest creation is going to bless the nation with their pressence, and revere the Creation almost as much as The Creator. Others are salty that the Creator made their Creation after leaving their nation.

Some don't complain about the Creator's Creation. For one, Teyvat irreversibly hurt the Creator, and it makes sense for them to turn to another Creation they could actually trust. The favoritism was inevitable.

Or maybe they think something else.

[yoongimain]

Need You To Be Sure (pt.2) | kth

Pairing: Taehyung x Femme!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance. 

Warnings: Vulgar language. Angst. Complicated feelings. This is essentially the healing part of the relationship.

Songs: As it was - Harry Styles, Beg for you - Charli XCX & Rina Sawayama

Words: 2,228

Taehyung - 1995

Femme Lead - 1998

Note: I honestly was not expecting the love that the first chapter of this got. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!! I worked hard on this “Post breakup” chapter, and hope y’all enjoy it! As always, please leave a comment below and let me know how I did!​ Please read PT 1 if you have yet to do so here: BS1

Some italicized lines are the OC’s thoughts! ​

Date Posted: 8/31/2021

Three weeks have passed since receiving the photo.

Three weeks of heartache while constantly checking your phone for literally anything from Taehyung.

You miss him more than you dared to admit. 

The warmth in his arms each night. The dumb fights over what to watch. His drumming fingers on your thighs when you finally decided on something. 

There was not a single day that passed by where you didn't consider swallowing your pride and messaging Taehyung. 

But you couldn’t. 

Ever the stubborn person, you waited for him to call first. 

It's only right, considering the photographic proof sent to you. The thought of that photo alone makes you sick to your stomach. 

So, you waited. Day by day, one empty lactose-free ice cream pint after another. 

Each passing day leaves you with an intruding thought.

Like if he even misses you the way you miss him, or if he was just utilizing his time erasing you. 

What if you didn’t see that photo? What if you hadn’t argued? 

Even better: What if you never proclaimed your feelings last year? 

Would any of this have made a difference? 

Short answer: No, not really. 

You would still have the complicated feelings you have. You would still see him with someone else in his clutches, someone who would have never been you. 

You would still feel numb, lying in your room alone. 

You finally pushed yourself to move all of Taehyung’s belongings into a bin to store away in your closet. 

With each photo, small decoration and article of clothing, you could feel your heart crack a little further. Because at the end of the day, you knew that you weren’t ready. Deep in your heart, you knew you would never be able to let go of Taehyung. 

Not after all the years you spent together. 

Not after allowing him into each deep corner of your heart. 

The room you found comfort in was unrecognizable. Your bed seemingly empty as his side of the bed was no longer occupied. 

One day, you may even forget that it was ever his side in the first place. You’ll slowly forget how his arms feel around you. 

That day just won’t be today. 

Almost as an alarm, you receive a message. 

Namjoon: “At the least, let me know you are safe.”

Safe? Were you safe? 

Physically, sure. You were still kicking as any living person would.

Mentally? Who even knew anymore? 

You shouldn’t lock yourself away in your bedroom. You knew that. 

There just wasn’t anything worth leaving for. 

There are only so many distractions that you can entertain before Taehyung is front and center in your brain again. 

You’ve turned your apartment upside down, cleaning every crevice. Every cabinet has been reorganized, and every piece of furniture has been moved.  

You have indulged in your art once again. Painting, sketching and even sculpting with trash. 

Everything you did was no use, though. You still made an imaginary space for Taehyung. You still painted him, drew him, thought of him. 

Each time he came to view, you found yourself broken down at square one once again. 

So here you are, lying in bed, staring at your phone. Ready to give up and forgive him for everything. 

“No, it isn’t funny!” You hear your sister’s voice boom through the apartment, notifying that she is finally home. A faint laughter follows her telling you she isn’t alone.

“I don’t know, it sounds pretty funny to me!” 

You drag a hoodie over your head and peek your head into the hallway. 

“Are they home?” The mysterious voice asks. 

“I’m pretty sure. I should get them to come eat.” Your sister says. Her footsteps echoing through the apartment and to your room. 

“Hey! Come eat, Jimin and I got you some goodies!” 

“Alright.” 

--

You lean on your elbow, gently stabbing at the food in front of you with a fork. Jimin and your sister were conversating beside you, enjoying their meals as well. 

“Ah! That reminds me. Jungkook is hosting a party this weekend. Would you both like to come?” Jimin asks with excitement. 

Your silence is louder than you intend. It has been a few weeks or so that you have last seen everyone. 

Slowly releasing your utensil onto the table, you smile. 

“I am fine with staying home, but you should definitely go.” You say to your sister, giving the most gentle answer you could. 

It is true that Jimin always has pure intentions, but you couldn’t help but to feel hurt that he would ask that. Which, Jimin realizes as soon as your sister serves him an under-the-table kick. 

“I’m sorry. I just figured it has been a while.” He says. Visibly embarrassed, he takes a sip of his drink. 

“I would have to think about it. I don’t know if I am ready just yet.” You say. 

Your sister clears her throat and diverts the conversation, bringing Jimin’s attention to a new bong piece she had found at The Third Planet recently. 

You quickly use the distraction to excuse yourself back to your room and further wallow in your feelings again. 

Letting your head hit your pillow full force, your mind paces again. 

It isn’t that you didn’t want to go, you haven’t seen your friends in forever.

Namjoon hasn’t stopped messaging you either. 

But the chances of running into Taehyung?

High, very high. 

After tossing and turning, you reach for your phone again. Unlocking it and looking back at your messages with Jimin. 

The last message remains the same. The photo that has taken all your nights of sleep. 

The discomfort lurches up from your chest again, forcing you to sit up. 

Everything about the photo haunts you. 

The unfamiliar woman in his lap, his arms around her waist. 

Her hands tangled in his hair, and their lips plastered to one another. 

For a whole year, you wanted nothing more than to hold his hand in front of everyone. 

To at least show that he was yours, just as you were his. 

Yet, not even a week after your argument, he had someone else in his arms. 

Meanwhile, you continue to struggle picking up the pieces of your heart that fall apart just about every day. 

It was unfair. 

It was cruel. 

It made all of your experiences with Taehyung feel like a sham. A complete fraud. 

And again, you think of all the possible reasons why you weren’t good enough. 

Why, when he claims the feelings to be there, could he not give you his all? 

A knock on the door disrupts your existential crisis. 

“Uh, hey! It’s me. Can I come in?” Jimin’s small voice reaches you from the door. 

“Um, yeah.” You say, wiping away the tears you collected from your own self pity. 

The door clicks open, and Jimin comes in to sit beside you on the bed. 

“I just wanted to come in and check on you myself.” He says, rubbing his hands on his sweatpants. 

You kept your eyes on your phone lying in your limp hands. 

Through this time on your own, you have tried time and time again to figure out and organize your feelings. It wasn’t until this very moment that they all dawned on you. 

Jimin scoots in closer so you can rest your head on his shoulder. 

Allowing you a judgment free space to feel exactly what you needed to feel. 

Your small cries progress into a full sob. 

You were upset at the argument. Upset that the relationship you invested most of your life in was merely a question with no answers. 

You were hurt that after being so clear from the start, he still didn’t see it. 

He didn’t see you. 

Hurt by his abandonment. 

Angry at his betrayal, and even angrier that you could hardly even call it betrayal anyways. 

Hurt, angry and full of despair. 

“I hate him, Chim. I fucking hate him.” You sob. 

Jimin wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer, caging you into his side. 

“That’s okay. You are allowed to feel that.” He reassures you. 

Your heart constricts with each gasp you make. The pain is far too intense for you to feel anything else. 

“But I hate that I can’t hate him at all.” You confess. 

“I love him so much, Jimin. I don’t know how to live without him.” You say. 

Jimin just provides comfort as he sees fit, letting you fully feel your emotions. 

“Why is he doing this to me?” You ask, knowing well that Jimin has no answer. 

Jimin is still searching for answers himself.

He knew that you had feelings for Taehyung, after overhearing bits and pieces from your sister of course. 

Taehyung was secretive about his personal relationships; especially after his ex, but Jimin knew he felt some kind of way about you too. 

It started with the first party that Taehyung made a scene at.

Then, Taehyung began to disappear after social events. 

Alone. 

Suddenly, Taehyung would only show up to events if you were also going. 

So, contrary to your beliefs, your secret relationship with Taehyung wasn’t so secret after all. 

Jimin just didn’t have any idea of how intense your feelings were. 

“I can’t speak on his behalf, but as an outsider looking in…” He began. “A person who does nothing but send you mixed signals probably doesn't deserve you.”  

Though you listened, you didn’t want to hear that. You didn’t want to admit that Taehyung didn’t deserve you. 

A part of you wants to believe that this was all a misunderstanding and that he will come knocking on your window again like he always has. 

“From the beginning, I was the one who initiated.” You say, piecing together the important pieces of your story before telling him more. 

“Taehyung was clear from the start that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He told me he didn’t want to commit yet.” You continued. “After talking about our situation… I just went with the flow and waited for him to be ready.” 

Jimin kept quiet, listening to your story. 

“For a whole year, we were practically together. The only thing that didn’t make it official was the title.” Your typical anxiety ticks kick in in the form of cuticle picking. 

“For a while now, I thought to myself. Why doesn’t he want to be official then? Was he embarrassed by me?” You questioned. 

Jimin rubs small circles on your shoulder the second he recognizes he waver in your voice. 

“Or maybe I was never good enough for him?” You finally conclude.  

“I don’t think that is it at all.” Jimin rebuttals. “I can’t speak on Taehyung’s behavior, considering I knew nothing about all this. However, I don’t think that you are not good enough. If anything, he is the one who isn’t good enough.” 

“Taehyung is also an absolute idiot.” He says. “I know everything probably feels like it's crashing on you. Just take the time you need. The right answer will always find you.” 

--

“I don’t know dude.” Taehyung sighs into his phone and picks up a bottle from his table. 

Empty bottles of liquor cover the floor of his small studio apartment, representing the emptiness of his own heart. 

“What do you mean you don’t know? You had a whole year to know!” Jimin shouts at him through his car’s Bluetooth. 

After seeing you broken down, it was hard for Jimin to not step in and knock some sense into Taehyung. 

“If you don’t want them then tell them that. Be fucking honest.” Jimin says, hitting his steering wheel out of frustration. “But on the flip side, if you share the same feelings they do then fucking do something before someone else steps in. Because believe me when I say, there is definitely someone waiting to take your spot.” 

“What are you talking about?” Taehyung sits up at the mention of ‘someone else’ 

“You better talk to them, Kim.” 

The line dies out, leaving Taehyung in stupor. 

Your relationship with Taehyung has never fallen apart due to you, and he recognizes that. All this time, it was his own insecurity that made him keep you at such a distance. 

You were pure, and perfect. Too perfect. Everything about you made him lose his breath every time. 

The way you gaze at the stars and ask him if he thought there was life out there.

The way you confidently strut around his apartment with a messy bun and just his t-shirt. 

The way you were able to easily read his emotions better than he could ever read himself.

He didn’t deserve your love. 

He knew that if he kept you far enough, you would see the kind of person he was. You would realize, and move on to someone better suited for you. 

Even if that person was that annoying prick, Namjoon Kim, he would surrender his place in your life. 

He just never realized how much of himself he would have to lose when he lost you. 

He has tried to forget your touch.

He has tried to replace the hands that once held him with so much love.

However, he knew no one could ever replace you. 

Not in his mind, and never in his heart. 

Once again, he closes his eyes in attempt to forget his reality.

Note: Thank you again for your support! I know this is shorter this time, but I wanted to make room for all the drama within BS3!! I can’t wait to hear from you all! <3 

TAGLIST: @Borahaeb1ch @wrecklesssly @sumzysworld​ @thoudailydeets @laylasbunbunny​ @kthstrawberryshortcake-main​ @blu3flame @astoriasx​ @cherrycheola @jeontier  @angelarin​ @aritoocute @mlttb @mahbeanz

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

ibiza night fever | epilogue

pablo gavi x original female character [+18]

synopsis: to celebrate her recent freedom, sofie’s best friends invited her to spend the summer in ibiza. after four years, a tattoo and countless fights – sofie was single. she was dumped on her 22nd birthday; now all she asks for is a calm and relaxing vacation with her girlfriends – no boys allowed. warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, smut, angst; minors dni.

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The vacation is coming to an end and the island life starts to feel more like a fever dream. Everything is too bright and shiny, the weather is too hot. As the end approached, her friends seemed to get her even busier. Every day there was a new adventure, a new interesting party or Michelin star restaurant. Sofie barely remembers how life was like before, and she can’t imagine what is gonna be like when she goes back. No more sunset concerts or jet skis. No more yachts, no more Spanish men. Pablo still didn’t have her phone number, but it didn’t really matter — they were constantly talking. There was always a carefully planned coincidence putting them in the same room. And the same bed.

And then, suddenly, on their last day in Ibiza, Thomas showed up. The now much bigger group of friends were all hanging out in the girl’s villa. It was a goodbye party.

“Thomas?”

He was standing there, looking disheveled and desperate. Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly regained her composure.

"What are you doing here?" Sofie asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I came to find you," he said, taking a step closer. "I made a mistake, Sofie. Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life."

Sofie shook her head, trying to push away the memories of their painful breakup. "It's too late, Thomas. You can't just show up like this."

"But I love you," he pleaded. "Please give me another chance. I was scared and I acted like a coward. I’m so sorry. Please, please forgive me."

"I can't just forget everything that's happened”

"I'll do anything," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, Sofie. I can't live without you. I'll give you all the time you need, but please tell me you’ll think about it."

Sofie took a deep breath and looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation in them. She knew she still loved him, but she couldn't let herself be hurt again. Still, she nodded. She found herself hugging him and saying goodbye, promising to continue their conversation another day. Back home.

“Who does he think he is to just show up like that?” Rebecca was furious.

“Who is he?” Pedro asked. Later, while finishing packing her bags, Sofie explains it all to Pablo.

“So the heart tattoo is for him?” He asks, looking more like the anxious boy of the day she met him, big doll eyes and blushy cheeks. He was disappointed, she knew him enough to understand that. "So you were using me? To forget him.” 

“You were using me too. To get your dick wet.”

Pablo gives a dry chuckle.

“What a nice match we made, huh.”

Sofie tries to smile while holding back tears, she’s afraid of saying anything else. He wraps his arms around her, pretending that if he hugs her for long enough she won’t have to leave.

“Don’t go back to him. I know you don't want me like that, but don’t go back to him.”

They’re both quietly sobbing in each other's arms and it doesn’t make any sense. It was just sex, they don’t even know each other that well. It shouldn’t be hurting so much. Sofie writes her number in a post it and hands it to him.

“No, no. You were right. It’s better this way.” Pablo pushes her hand away, not even looking at the paper. She nods.

**

Rebecca cries during the whole flight home, so Sofie doesn’t have a lot of time to feel sorry for herself. There’s an understanding she was much closer to Pedro than Sofie to Pablo. So the girls dedicate themselves to taking care of Becca. She never talks about that sort of thing and this time is no different. So they don’t really know what happened with the couple.

“That’s how the rest of our lives are gonna be, you know.” Chiara whispers to her when Rebecca finally falls asleep. “Watching one after the other getting hurt over stupid men.”

“At least we have each other.”

Chiara agrees.

[arsalamsyah]

The Happy Ending of 2023

On Dec 22, 2023, I reflected on how this year has been. I remembered everything that happened in Q4 but questioned, “what did I do in Q1 to Q3?” I couldn’t even remember until I scrolled up again my instagram archives, and found stories from April 9, 2023. Forget about the title above for a second. Have you ever cried naturally so ugly that you still remember how painfully aching it felt even after months passed by? I teared up again looking at those insta stories to flashback. 

For context, home for me has always been the east coast – mid-atlantic specifically – where, despite not owning a physical house, my soul feels belong to its surroundings. You know it already why LA was, is, and will never ever be home for me based on this previous comparison I wrote in 2021.

While I enjoyed my work at SPX, I didn’t find balance outside of work which forced me to take flights to DC or NY almost every quarter to keep my sanity checked. Following a business trip to Florida and watching the F9 rocket launch with bare eyes back in April 2023, I extended my trip to spend the weekend in DC as I was already on the east coast anyway. Only spent less than 48 hours at home with my “foster” fam, and it was the shortest time I ever spent on a long west-coast-to-east-coast route. 

So getting back to the question, have you ever cried naturally so ugly that you still remember how painfully aching it felt even after months passed by? The emotion on April 9 still lingers through those insta stories – it was right after this direct flight from DCA airport to LAX that my heart was too heavy to carry.

The above is a combined video since Tumblr doesn’t allow multiple videos in one post. First video – this take-off from DCA airport was too pretty to say goodbye to. Got the right-side window seat facing the National Mall and the weather was absolutely comforting. Then second video – before landing at LAX airport during sunset which was actually eyes-pleasing with another plane queuing on the side. The pilot failed twice to land safely due to poor visibility through thick fog & mist. Pretty much a sign of an unwelcoming environment.

It was right after this flight that my tears just burst out naturally while I was waiting for my on demand ride, on the side of a highway, where nobody else was there but cars passing by through the dark. I couldn’t hold it anymore that this cathartic cry had to happen and my chest was painfully suffocated. I turned around not to face the street because it was just too ugly to see, and had I not held my luggage tightly, I probably fell down to the ground crying like a baby. Admittedly, I had more cries living there than my entire life. The return trip from the east coast had never been easy even from the first time I moved there, “hhhh, why do I have to leave again?” “why am I here?” “God, let me go home.” “let me just go.”

What made the cry further uglier was the fact that the only thing (and there is only one thing) I can do is to repent for everything, asking Allah’s forgiveness. You can’t beat those pure senses. You just can’t. You can only repent and trust His puzzling plan. 

Earlier this year was a rough patch for me, living on the edge of decision to decision and negotiation to negotiation, mostly very last minute like mini heart attacks. But finally Allah let me flip it beautifully to a much happier life, and safely returned home for good for real foreveeerrrr. 

Ever since moving back to NYC, I experience happiness like never before. Like my soul returns to its body quite literally. Waking up happy, running the day happy, going to bed happy – constantly 24/7 every single day for the past few months filled with utter gratitude. I didn’t know happiness like this existed. I didn’t regret my past decision to relocate to California because had I not done that, maybe I wouldn't be as grateful as today. I tried. I did try. I tried to like it in so many ways for a couple years and it just didn’t work out. It's not my way of living. So don't you dare judging this cry is a test to my level of maturity or inability to accept uncomfortable situation. This is not.

To me to be home again is very personal & poetic. A relief, an ease, a reunion with my own self, being loved again, forgiving & compromising, tranquility over the heart, smiling from ear to ear, gratitude for every single breath, a comfort internally and externally – I shall never let that slip again. After a choking series of denials, a good friend once said, “listen to your heart, sometimes it tries to tell you something”. For another round of the sun, Alhamdulillahirrabil’alamiin thankful for the faith, the endurance, the persistence, and all other good traits that didn’t go unappreciated by my own (sometimes demanding) self.

it me, after moving back to Manhattan, at one of my favorite spots in Central Park during the peak of fall foliage season, living happily ever after beyond 2023.

[kpdeek]

Episode 13 Thoughts & Reactions

Omfggggg... with every episode I have so much on my mind, but reading all the wonderful metas others post helps me deal with it all. I did a post for a previous KP episode (I think it was 6?), but EP13 was jam packed with SO MUCH that I need to get things into words again.

First of all, Vegas & Pete. They broke my heart, together & individually. Vegas constantly being reminded of his lack of worth, finally standing up to his father...only to be put in his place again. And did yall see how happy he was preparing that food, how detailed he was with plating it? All for Pete, who he's found some semblance of happiness with despite Pete being there against his will. I absolutely LOVED the moment between VP when Pete's weakness broke through. All this time he's been telling Vegas how wrong everyone is about pitting him against his cousin, that he shouldn't hurt himself, that his father is an idiot. But there's a part of Pete that feels useless & pathetic too. Pete's struggle between what he knows is wrong & what he wants is too real, too raw, & too emotional. I have seen that this scene was quite triggering for some people, so I won't say too much about it. But you know V & P are way too into each other at this point to go thru with killing the other.

Still, there's so much messed up about their attraction to the other, too much trauma bonding, that Pete can't reconcile it despite Vegas finding solace in it. You guys, this scene was the most emotional scene for me from the entire series. I think either right along with (or maybe even topping) the end of EP6 😱 I can't wait for more astute viewers to analyze the shit out of it.

Now KimChay (I shall leave my favorite couple for the end): obviously more time has passed between Kim & Chay than we saw on camera, because where did all those Polaroids come from? I read someone's post, I can't remember whether on Twitter or Reddit, that said Chay left these pictures in random places for Kim to stumble upon (when they were together of course). I think it's a cute thought, I think I'll believe it. Because it's all the more heartbreaking for Kim to keep finding them & being reminded of what a good thing he could have had, and what a bad thing he did. Good job to Chay for not letting this man walk all over him. He BLOCKED him. Like...I know I didn't have that much control over my emotions when I was going thru angst shit like this. We'd be mad @ each other, & I'd still be expecting a text like "please still be thinking of me". I know I'm not the only one. The only thing is I wish it wasn't at the expense of Chays education. (I'm a teacher, I value education HIGHLY). a few questions I have: what was Kim doing at the main house anyway? What could Korn want from him? What's with Kim's investigation, & how is he going to use what he knows? Because so far it's all been for naught. His investigation revealed some things to the viewers, but didn't move anyone else's plot along at all. I really hope we see him in the final battle, as I like to call it. It's going to be a Civil War, & all the Theerapanyakul Brothers better step up.

Random, but I think worth pointing out. Kim's shirt says "human". Maybe it's the theme of this episode, considering what Pete says to Vegas before he runs away, the way Kim is dealing with losing Chay, & Porsche not being able to forgive & forget what happened in the past.

Now, KinnPorsche: it was heartbreaking to see Kinn doing what he can to make Porsche happy, all the while knowing Porsche is keeping something from him. And Kinn recognized that Porsche wasn't telling him the truth, did yall see how he looked at him when Porsche gave throw away answers?

Ughhh, my heart. The graveside scene was beautiful, Mile appeared in Kinn here when he was staring at Porsche nonstop, I loved it. And then the pool scene. I gotta say, I didn't expect the scene to be surrounded by such heartbreaking moments, but alas it's what we got. Mile & Apo deserve all the accolades. I mean...it was so tender & beautiful, and sexy. & we got them finally saying "I love you" directly to each other. Despite everything that took place after, and everything to take place, can Kinn even doubt Porsche's love for him, and vice versa? It's very interesting to see how Kinn will react to Porsche leaving with all he knows now. Circumstances are definitely different, hell, KINN is different now. Even if Porsche is betraying the family, will Kinn take that as a personal betrayal as well? We know they'll make up in the next episode, but until that scene comes, I'm really looking forward to seeing how Kinn handles it all.

Everything else: I like the way the show is playing with Porsche's parents' death story. It's so well done, well put together, that if you haven't been reading others' novel spoilers it's surely to shock you. I understand Porsche's handling of the situation; sometimes you don't want to involve your loved ones in the doubts you have, especially when they're so intertwined with those doubts, yet you know they're not really a part of it. Vegas coming into play here is interesting. I always assumed that he was the one storming the main family house at the end, that the main family was shooting AGAINST him, but with everything that's come to light, I'm thinking it's possible that he's joining them instead. Against who?

His father.

Yes, I think his father shot Porsche's mom & dad. In Porsche's memory, only Korn & Gun were there, & I KNOW Korn didn't kill them. So.... & Vegas has a lot of anger, resentment, & bitterness harbored against his dad that I could see him blaming Gun for losing Pete & everything else he's loved. We've already seen Vegas push back against his dad in this episode, so what's not to say he won't go full throttle in the next? Besides, he loves Pete, he's helping Porsche, and Pete has made him realize that maybe...he doesn't have to live up to Kinn.

I appreciate how Porsche knows Vegas is behind what happened to Pete. Here's where that phrase we all love throwing around comes into play: morally Grey. Despite knowing that Vegas harmed Pete so badly based on what Porsche was able to see, he still requests his help, and even makes sure to set things up for him to see Pete. I was...appalled at this action, but had to remind myself that these characters are looking out for NO.1 only. Themselves. & this scene between Vegas & Pete, the way Pete slid down the beam & Vegas went with him...guys, I'm telling you. Everything about them got me emotional this episode.

About the ending, i find it interesting that P's uncle is at the temple. It just goes to highlight how fake he is, because we know that guy doesn't have a worshipping bone in his body. I reveled in Porsche taking the money back, but was upset that the uncle died right in front of him. That's 3 family members Porsche has witnessed getting murdered. & let me tell you, even when you despise a family member, you still feel a certain sadness when something like this befalls them. But Uncle was true to his character until the end.

Some ppl were questioning why would Kinn shoot him when Porsche is right there, he could've hit him. Ummmm...I don't think anyone from the main family shot him. Not Pete, not Kinn. The two were too far away, basically rounding a corner. It appeared to me that they started running when they heard the gun shots, not that they were the source of them. And the way it was shot confirms that for me: rather than the camera panning to show Kinn or Pete with their guns outstretched as if they shot, it shows Porsche falling & getting a bit of his memory back. Indicating that he didn't actually see who shot his uncle, therefore neither did we. And there's something symbolic about Vegas & Porsche riding away together while Kinn & Pete are left behind. I could probably pull something from it, but I'm on summer vacation & my brain isn't required to squeeze meaning out of everything for the next 1.5 months, so I'll leave that to better equipped minds.

And finally, the ending scene. Ahh, Porsche pointing a gun at Korn's head. How I've waited this entire show to see this happening. & of course, Korn drops the bombshell. "She was my sister". Iwnsishsnaowveiapqapaodhei.

For the record, I don't think she was his biological sister, no Kinn & Porsche aren't cousins, no it doesn't still count just because their parents maybe called each other "bro" & "sis" once upon a time. I loved that they kept this in the show from the books. It ups the drama. Makes everything that happened--& everything that's going to happen--hit harder, mean more. Sure, they could've tried to find another way to explain how Korn & Porsche'a parents knew each other, but it's already been written this way. Why change something that works (we know they changed things that DIDNT work, like with Vegas & Pete). Also, the way Korn phrased it, leaving out the 'adopted' part? I laughed. He knows it's going to freak Porsche out for obvious reasons, but the episode ended on a cliffhanger & what better way to gut punch the viewers & Porsche than to phrase it like this. Anyway, he'll definitely clarify in the next episode.

EP13 did not disappoint. Nothing that happened, or at least the way it happened, was expected, & for a show to be able to do that consistently--well, I'll never be able to praise the writing enough. It's wonderfully done. The best of the best (tho, I would be remiss if I said it was perfect. There are some issues, but they're relatively minor). With that, I'd love to read everyone else's thoughts & predictions 😆

[btsrunmylife]

fic author self-rec tag game

when you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written/fics you’re most proud of, then pass on to at least five other writers. let’s spread the self-love 💗

thank you for the tag @jktones 🥺💜 

This was actually a lot harder than I thought it would be. Not because I love everything I’ve written, but because I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with a lot of my works right now 😬 Anyway, here are some of my favorites!

-ˏˋ. Call Me Naïve ˊˎ-

Truthfully, I think I’ll always be living in the shadows of this story. I poured so much time and effort into this one and it was one of my best writing experiences to date. I’d been sitting with the idea for so long that when it came time to write it, it was easy. I kept the readers guessing, which was a lot of fun. t’s my favorite thing I’ve written to date and it makes me so happy whenever I see people noticing it for the first time. It’s also my story with the most notes to date, which speaks volumes to how well it was received. *sighs* Yeah, I just really loved everything about this one. I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to write something like it again...

-ˏˋ. Gasoline ˊˎ-

This was my first (and only) one I’ve written for a collab. It was such a fun experience and it only took me about a week to plan out from beginning to end, even though it took me about two months to write and edit. But playing off the 2022 Season’s Greetings was so much fun! They really did set us fic writers up for interesting plot lines. The possibilities were endless...and I still think I have a few ideas up my sleeve if I ever decide to continue it... 👀

-ˏˋ. Cooking Class ˊˎ-

Ah, the one I constantly forget I actually wrote until people randomly start liking/reblogging again. I remember being so proud of this one when I first posted it, entirely inspired and enamored by ITS!Yoongi 🥺 It was my first time writing about him and I had a lot of fun fine-tuning his characterization. I still adore this story and its sequel The Date. It just feels like I wrote them eons ago already...

-ˏˋ. The Comfort Drabbles ˊˎ-

How could I not include this?!?! It’s not a fic, per se, but rather a collection of drabbles, where I aim to comfort the reader with a little scene of one of the members (or all of them). It’s, admittedly, challenged me at times, but I’ve always been the type to get excited over writing challenges. I always try my best, even though I fear I’m not always successful in knowing what people need to hear. My aim, regardless, is to create a safe and comforting space for the duration of the read. I hope I’ve at least accomplished that...

-ˏˋ. He is Love ˊˎ-

My baby. My first love. My heart, my soul. All rolled into one fic. Honestly, this was my very first fic on here and it will always be one of my favorites. I poured so much into this story because it was one that had been begging to be written for over a year before I decided to turn it into a Jungkook fic. The moment I did that, all of the pieces started to fall into place. I’ll never get over that. I was stuck on it, as an original fiction work, for so long and then BAM. It was done. I love it, I love the characters and the amount of healing/comfort that is in this fic. And I just...am infinitely proud of it. Forever and always.

I’m not sure who’s done this or who’s already been tagged, so please forgive me if you have been! Feel free to ignore as well! If anyone who I don’t tag sees this and would like to participate, feel free to!! I love hearing about people’s works! 💜

I’m tagging: @nabiolive @honeytae @myooniverse @sopebubbles @sor-vette​ @delacyrose224​ @sketchguk​ @bonvoyagenoona​ 

[icarus-does-fall]

Chapter Six

Sibling drama, the start of the poor bois trauma , he'll get back to his notta-boyfriend boyfriend eventually I promise

The beginning of the End

As Michael made his way back to the cathedral his thoughts lingered constantly on Kain and the time they spent together. He wasn't sure how to feel about Kain, about what he was feeling in general. Kain made him feel things, made him think things- acknowledge things that weren’t permitted. With a soft sigh and a heart still aflutter Michael pushed his way through the cathedral doors.

“Michael!” An overly excited voice shouted as he walked through the doors, the sun had just set by the time he had arrived back.

“Michael where have you been? Are you okay, did something happen? Me and the father have been worried sick over your sudden disappearance! Not to mention you had clerical duties you were supposed to attend to today- They made Joshua fill in for you, he's still in training Michael. We have responsibilities brother.”

Michael was barely given a moment to gather his surroundings before his sister bombarded him, which he should have expected. The two were almost never apart and Michael going off without notice was almost unheard of. With a soft sigh he replied, “Yes Mary I’m back, I would always return to you, we’re the last of our family. Nothing happened, I simply went out. I- I apologise for abandoning my post here at the cathedral.”

Mary shook her head and then pulled her brother in for a tight hug, her tail was wagging behind her still from his return. “It's no matter to me, not anymore really, however you will need to take it up with Father Kier. But he's such a sweetheart, I'm sure he’ll be just as understanding as I, as long as you're honest with him! Remember brother Father Keir saved us, we owe him our honesty and our lives.”

Michael, he tensed ever so slightly as Kier was mentioned. Keir Craven, the dragonborn that saved the twins after their parents' untimely demise. He was… a double edged sword in terms of a saving grace. For Mary he was a bringer of light, a new beginning. Yet for Michael he was the start of a tortuous and horror filled childhood.

“Mary-” He shook his head as he cut his sentence short and then pulled Mary in for another hug. “Nevermind it. I shall do my best, let us hope Father Keir is just as forgiving as you believe him to be, yes?”

Mary grinned with a laugh as she pulled away from the hug, looping her arm through Michaels. “Oh please brother, Father Keir has been nothing but kind to us since he took us in as children, you overthink things too much, one of the many reasons you're always in trouble. Now for the love of the great ones, tell me where you went.”

“I simply went out and lost track of time, I don't get out much anymore since it is to be believed I cannot interact with possible parishioners so I merely wanted to enjoy time in the city. Really Mary, there is nothing to worry about I promise. I was well behaved.”

Mary sighed and gave Michael a doubtful look. “Michael, last time you went into the town you got into a fight- Someone bit you for heaven's sake, and! You're not even wearing the expected attire, you went into the public dressed down? Brother, there's rules we have to follow for living in the cathedral. It's not that I don't trust you- I do! You're my brother, I would never truly doubt you, you just also have a record Michael. I want to make sure you stay safe.”

“Mary, I promise I was indeed behaved while I was out today, I am aware that I am… Presenting in the best way that I could be but I just needed a little space, and today I was given that, I felt like I was allowed to breathe again.”

Mary gave Michael another look before sighing and pulling her arm out of his and turned to walk towards her room. “Very well brother, I’ll let the matter rest but do not forget to take the matter but with Father Keir still. I am glad that you seem to be feeling more like yourself again, it has been quite a long time since I’ve seen you this relaxed.”

With a shake of his head he sighed, he shook his head and turned to walk in the other direction- The one towards Keir's office. The sooner he faced his punishments the less harsh things would be to deal with, at least that's how it usually worked.

Just before he reached Keir's office though he stopped in front of a large stained glass window. It was dark out of the colours were not as bright as they unusually were yet it brought him the same feelings of comfort- and of dread that passing it usually did.

The windows’ image was of the tree of life, it was large and ornate. It was beautiful. But its background was of red hues, it was haunting in the dark without the light of the sun shining through and all that he could ever picture against the large oak with those red glass panes behind it was the blood that had been shed all through his life. His own, as well as his parents.

Stealing himself once more he took a deep breath and then walked down the hall that led to Keirs office. He knocked once. Twice. And then a low, almost gruff yet ever hypnotic voice called out from the side. “Enter.”

[musings-of-a-rose]

Meet the Millers - Chapter 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Bear in mind the pairing of this fic along with the fact it’s set in a post-apocalyptic setting, so there will be themes and elements fitting the setting. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I hit 200 followers and wanted to give y’all a little something so I did a poll and let you pick what one shot I write next. This is what y’all picked! I hope I can deliver. I started this out as a one shot and it MAJORLY got away from me, so now it’s a mini series. Thank you so much for following me and reading my ramblings! Also a shoutout to@astoryisaloveaffair for helping me figure out how things work and being an amazing sounding board, @icanbeyourjedi for helping me to settle on a filter for this mood board, and @theewokingdead for being delightfully appalled at how many words this one-shot has turned into and cheering me on with memes and gifs.

-This is set loosely in The Last of Us universe. I’ve only played a bit of the game and watched others play (and the show isn’t out yet), so please forgive any inaccuracies. Also it’s a post-apocalyptic world so I’m taking a bunch of liberties here. Because fan fiction.

*Ages at the time of this story (so you don’t have to do math):

Reader: 28

Benny: 35

Will: 38

Joel: 50

Meet the Millers Masterlist

Main Masterlist

*Reader is ethnicity inclusive despite stock photo bias

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Quiet.

That’s what you loved about being on the patrol team at the very top of the wall. It’s why you volunteered for it. Most people want to be closer to the ground, whether from fear of heights or lack of wanting to traverse the multitude of makeshift stairs to get here.

But not you.

Up here, the sounds of Boston fade away to a soft din, allowing you space to breathe. It’s not that you hated the noise, but you grew up away from here, your family constantly on the move, avoiding raiders and clickers. The quiet gave your brain room to breathe, away from all of the politics and sector checks, ration cards and hidden gangs.

Not to mention the view was spectacular.

You could almost forget that the world as you know it had been nearly destroyed 20 years ago. You were only 8, but you remember your dad coming in the middle of the night, frantic and talking a long stream of words that barely made sense to you in your half awakened state. He had shoved a backpack at you and told you to fill it with clothes. You did as you were told, remembering to put on your favorite arrow necklace before your dad came back in and all but pulled you from the house. You had lived more rural but you still heard the sounds coming from the nearby town as your dad slammed the door behind you and you took off down the road, seeing people coming out of the woods and attacking your neighbors…

You shake your head, knocking you out of your walk down memory lane. Breathing in the night air, you exhale and watch your breath spiral out of your mouth in the cold air. You were always alone on this stretch of the wall, which was another perk of the job. Your fingers loosened and tightened on your rifle. You much preferred your bow, but it wouldn’t do much damage from this distance. That’s probably why they agreed to put you up here anyway - you were a skilled marksman. Markswoman?

You hear the soft pad of boots on the wall and immediately raise your rifle and point in that direction.

“Easy, easy. I’m a friendly.” The voice was deep and had a bit of a drawl to it. You didn’t lower your rifle as the man was still hidden in shadow.

“Show your face then.”

A man emerges from the shadows, hands up level with his chest. He has sandy blonde hair with a slight wave to it, about shoulder length, some facial hair to match, and killer blue eyes. He’s tall too, at least 6’3 and fit. You try to ignore the nerves that hit your stomach at the sight of him standing there in his jeans that fit his shape perfectly, black shirt under a worn black leather jacket.

“My id is in my pocket.” He moves his hand towards the pocket but you yell at him to stop. He moves his hand back up to the surrender position.

“You can come take it if you want, sweetheart.”

An interesting predicament. You could get his id and check that he has permission to be up here, and you’re sure he does. But if he wasn’t supposed to be up here, and you got too close, who knows what he might do. Not that I’d necessarily be unwilling.

Opting for option 2, you slowly walk up to the man who hadn’t moved from his position. Switching your rifle out for your handgun, you arrive at the man and he nods down to his front pants pocket. You keep your eyes on his as you slide your hand in his pocket, noticing how he shifts a little as your fingers maneuver around, finally finding the edge of a card and pulling it out as the man lets out an almost imperceivable grunt.

Stepping back to a good distance, you hold the card up to the side of your line of vision so you can look at it while keeping the man in your line of sight. Scanning the id, you see the man’s photo, name, designation (upper wall), role (patrol), and, moving the card up and down, you see the hidden logo only printed on the official cards.

“Benjamin Miller?” You lower your rifle and hold his id out to him.

“Benny.” He hesitates a moment. “You wanna slide that back in my pocket for me, sweetheart?”

You snort. “Does that line work with all the ladies?”

“Sometimes.” He gives you a half smile and you feel your lower stomach start to burn with a fire you weren’t entirely familiar with, not having felt it in a very long time. He still hasn’t moved to take his id back so you roll your eyes and step forward, sliding the card back in his pocket as he looks down at you, scanning your face. Stepping back and trying to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, you tell him your name.

“But everyone calls me Ghost.”

“Ghost?” His voice hits something deep inside you and you shift a little, trying to relieve some pressure from between your thighs without him noticing.

“Yeah. I’m a good shot and very quiet. Comes with growing up on the outside.”

Benny whistles. “You grew up on the outside?”

“Yeah. It was…different. You?”

“Been here since I was 15 with my brothers.”

“Family?”

“Parents were on the outside when it happened. They never came back.”

You nod. “Sorry to hear it.”

“You?”

“Parents got me and my siblings out. We hid in our cabin for several years until clickers found us. Got my parents. My siblings and I lived on the road, never settling really. Lost one to gangs and one to Fireflies. Sister left to live with a raider. Then I was on my own and made my way here. And here I am.”

Benny watches you. “I get the feelin’ there’s more to that story.”

You smile darkly. “Probably.”

You turn to stare out across the nature overtaking the dilapidated buildings of the other half of Boston, the side not in the zone. You feel Benny’s eyes on you and it adds fuel to that fire growing in your belly.

“Why are you up here, Benny?”

“I like it up here. It’s…quiet.”

“It is. You assigned to this section?”

Benny chuckles. “Actually a section over but I took the wrong stairs. Saw you and figured I’d say hi.”

You turn to look at him, crossing your arms and leaning your hip against the railing.

“Hi.”

He smiles at you and it’s like you’re on fire with want, the crinkles by his eyes, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing here, smiling with his entire being.

“I hope to see more of you, Ghost.” His voice sends another jolt through your body and you watch his eyes trail down your body and back up, meeting your gaze. He smiles once more as he turns to head to his section further down the wall. Watching him walk away was a blessing and curse too. What was the phrase? Hate to see him leave but love to watch him go?

Fuck it.

“Benny?”

He stops, having just about entered the watchtower to cross to the next section of wall.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You set your rifle against the wall and close the distance between you both in a few quick strides. Pushing Benny up against the wall, he lets out a small grunt as his back collides with the brick. You grab onto his jacket and pull him down to you as your lips meet his, Benny’s tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. It had been so long since you had simply been kissed, let alone with this much fire, that you can’t help the moan that escapes your throat, vibrating through to Benny’s. Your hands are still gripping his jacket but his are roaming over your body, one hand coming to rest on your hip with a tight grip and the other grips the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. All too soon he pulls your head back and greets you with those baby blues.

“What’r we doing here, sweetheart?”

Panting heavily, your eyes heavy with lust find his, desire darkening his eyes like a raging storm on the sea.

“I need you to fuck me, Benny.”

He smiles. “That I can do.”

He grabs your hips and turns you, pushing your back up against the wall and putting his leg between yours, lifting you off the floor with his height. His lips find your neck and he starts kissing, sucking, biting, as your hands scramble to find something to hold on to. Benny’s large hands reach under your shirt and shift your bra down, massaging your boobs and pinching your nipples.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant as Benny’s mouth finds your boobs and he starts sucking and kissing there too. One of your hands tries to grip his bicep while the other winds into his long blonde locks, gripping his hair and tugging. Benny growls out a “fuck” when you do that, so you do it again.

“I gotta fuck you now, sweetheart.” His voice is deep and desperate and you nod frantically, whispering out a “yes, yes!”

Frantic hands from both of you as you try to undo the pants of the other, neither one of you having any success. A frustrated sigh comes out of you and Benny puts you down, moving to undo his own pants as you undo yours. You only manage to get one leg out, having had to remove your boot first before Benny picks you up, shifting his grip down to under your upper thighs. He kisses you hard again as you wrap your legs around him, arms coming around him to play with his hair again.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” Benny breathes into your mouth. Before you can respond, Benny manages to maneuver one of his hands to your slit, drenching his fingers in your essence and moaning at the feel of you.

“Fuck me, Benny. Please.” You hadn’t meant to beg but fuck you wanted him.

“Yes ma’am.”

He lines himself up and slowly thrusts into you, feeling every inch as he bottoms out, moving his hand back to under your thigh. Your head flies back, mouth open in an “o” shape as you feel him stretch you and tap something at the back, a spot that had never been explored but you desperately need him to.

He slowly thrusts into you a few more times before picking up the pace, watching how your expressions change as he hits that spot. Your breaths come out in short gasps, a hint of a whine on them. He picks up his speed and you try to help him out by thrusting your own hips downwards to meet his upwards thrusts. This earns you a stream of expletives from Benny, followed by a series of groans and pants. The fire that had been simmering in your belly quickly ignites after just a few thrusts from Benny.

“I’m gonna..gonna..fuck!” you moan his name into his ear as you come, feeling him continue to fuck you through it harder, knowing he’s hitting a spot inside you. His hips start to falter as you come down and you know he’s close.

“Ghost, ‘m gonna..gonna…” Benny comes suddenly, little grunts and moans escaping his mouth as he spurts into you. You tug his hair a little and that makes him come more and you make sure to note that one for next time. Next time?

Breathing heavily against each other, you stay there for a few minutes just breathing and being connected. Eventually, Benny pulls out of you with a hiss and sets you down.

“Here. It’s all I have. I didn’t think I’d be…here.” Benny pulls out a bandana from his jacket pocket, pours some water on it from a bottle he had set down to the side, and hands it to you.

You stare at the bandana, touched he’d even think about trying to help you clean up after. Taking the red fabric you look up at him.

“This will work. Thanks, Benny. That’s…thoughtful.”

He smiles as he does up his pants. “Next time I’ll come better prepared-” he freezes and looks at you. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume that we’d…that this would…”

You laugh to rescue him from his sudden embarrassment. “Thank you Benny. And yes, if you’re up for it, I would love for this to happen again. Maybe a steady thing?” You finish cleaning yourself off and start getting dressed.

Benny looks shocked at your bluntness. “Fuck yeah. But..no strings attached? Like friends with benefits or?”

“I don’t know you well enough to know if we’re friends yet.”

“I was just inside you.”

“Yeah but…” You really don’t know what to say. Usually these things never lasted past this point, maybe another meetup a couple of times. But never something where you’d see the person often.

“Are you not used to having friends?”

You sigh. “Honestly? No. They all end up dead or betray me.”

His face softens. “That won’t happen here. No need to be..exclusive. Just fuckin’ friends, I promise.”

That makes you laugh and he joins in, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and you know you’re in trouble.

“See you tomorrow night, sweetheart.”

Benny winks at you as he gathers up his stuff and heads through the watchtower to go to his post, leaving you with a sad smile on your face as his presence leaves the area feeling empty for the first time since you had taken on the post.

—----

Your days are spent sleeping or cashing in your ration cards, and feeding the raccoon in the alley that you’ve named Pockets because he always seems to be carrying some kind of shiny trinket.

Your nights are spent on the wall, keeping an eye out for intruders and clickers, although there have never been any since you got here. Most nights you end up with Benny inside of you, moaning out each other’s names into the dark, quiet space above the broken city.

One night, you went to visit him on his section of wall and you overheard him singing to himself, deep and soulful. You listened for some time before you stepped into view, gently pushing him to the ground to ride him as he tried to continue to sing, eventually giving up and replacing it with grunts and expletives.

You liked Benny. Of course, things weren’t exclusive, but conversation with him came easy. He was funny, charming, and definitely had some sort of ADHD but that made you like him more. A few weeks in, he started bringing you a mug of coffee almost every night, which shocked you the first time he handed you the mug. Coffee was an expensive luxury item these days.

“Where did you get this?”

“I know people.”

You fix him with a look. “I can’t take this, Benny. It’s too much.”

“Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to give it to you, I wouldn’t have brought it. It’s not much, but it’s decent.”

Tentatively, you take the mug from Benny, holding it with both hands and taking a small sip. It was black, but still warms you up, the bitter taste swirling around in your mouth with a hint of..some kind of nut? You smack your lips and Benny smiles, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

“Sugar?”

“I thought I was ”sweetheart”?”

He chuckles. “You are, but-” he holds out a tiny packet of sugar and you audibly gasp. Sugar was also difficult to come by.

“Benny, I-”

Silently, he takes the mug from your hands and adds the sugar, giving the mug a few swirls before handing it back to you. Taking a quick sniff, you take another sip, quietly moaning at the sweet taste that you had missed, even if it was laced with the bitter taste of coffee. You offer the mug back to him, but Benny puts his hands over yours and pushes them back to you.

“I brought this for you.” His eyes locked on yours, soft and affectionate, and you get lost in the blue of his eyes for a long moment. He leans down and hesitates briefly before he kisses you lightly.

“See you later, sweetheart.”

—----

Chapter 2>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @hotchlover-blog @balekanemohafe @softpedropascal @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @giuliarogers @jadore-andor

Benny Miller Taglist:

@rebel-fanfare @unic0rntaking0ver17645 @ahsokathearcher@corrabell @dobbyjen@practicalghost @khiraeth @goodgriefitsawildworld @Whovianayesha @itspdameronthings @thatpinkshirt@whiskeymeaway92@tanzthompson @anaaaispunk@blueeyesatnight@fastandfeminist @triggerhappyflygirl @thisisthewaytofiction

Will Miller Taglist:

@thatpinkshirt @triggerhappyflygirl

[etherealbelphie]

Selfish (Ft. Belphegor)

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, mentions of canonical character death, season one spoilers.

Length: 0.7k words

Genre: Angst

Summary: All of Belphegor's brothers had caused you harm. Why was he the only one being punished?

This fic has become part 2 of an ongoing series, here are the links to the other parts:

| Part 1 | Part 2 (You are here)|Part 3|

Hi everyone! This is my first time posting my work, so I hope you like it! It's based on 'Dreamscape', the Obey Me! character song. I believe I labeled all the correct warnings, but if I should add more, please let me know!

-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

He missed your stories.

You used to tell them all the time, but after everything that happened, you could barely look him in the eye long enough to say hello.

He never paid attention to what you said before. He’d fall asleep so you’d go away, or he’d scheme to use you and get himself out of there.

Even so, now he realized he did look forward to your visits, if only to escape the dead silence for the few minutes you managed to sneak up there.

But even that was an understatement.

Now he’d do anything to hear you talk about your life in the human world or tell him what shenanigans his brothers dragged you into this time.

He’d do anything to have you fall asleep on his shoulder like he’d seen you do with Mammon or pull an all-nighter to play the latest installment of a game like you’d done with Levi.

He was always reluctant to do anything that would cost him sleep, but he was willing to try for you.

Watching you spend time with his brothers, or the members of Purgatory Hall, while watching you shrink in his presence was worse than being stuck in the attic.

At least last time, he didn’t truly have to see everyone else enjoying what he wanted but couldn’t have.

Now he had to watch you coo over stray cats with Satan or come back with a hundred shopping bags from your latest adventure with Asmo.

He wanted to take you shopping too.

Why did it have to be like this?

He knew for a fact he wasn’t the only one who’d made an attempt on your life, so why was it only him being punished?

It was true that he was the only one who’d planned it out and lied to you for months to get his way, and maybe he was the only one who truly hurt you, but you came out of it just fine, didn’t you?

All’s well that ends well, right?

No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he knew it was a lie. It was hard to forget how badly he’d screwed up when he’s watching you constantly have nightmares about him.

He hadn’t meant to enter your dreams- at least, not this time.

The fact he’d automatically started to manipulate you, even when he had no ill intent was added to his growing list of shames.

This wasn’t a dream; this was a nightmare.

The sadistic smile, his cold, dead eyes.

And the taunting laughter, echoing through nightmares.

If that monster was what you saw every time you looked at him, he couldn’t blame you for being afraid.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath.

He was wide awake now, more awake than he’d been in centuries.

With every fiber of his being, he knew it was a bad idea, but being a demon, he was weak to the siren of temptation.

Drawn to your bedroom door.

It was locked—apparently a recent development—but it didn’t take a genius to remember the incantation to unlock it.

He knew you’d only locked the door to keep him out, but what’s one more sin at this point?

I can’t change the past, he reasoned as he approached your bedside.

Gently, he ran his thumb over the furrow in your brows, easing your nightmares and replacing them with a dreamless sleep.

If you couldn’t feel safe around him while you were awake, he reasoned that the least he could do was protect you from himself when you weren’t.

He wanted to see you, the real you, not the pawn he’d used for his own selfish gains, not the descendant of his reincarnated sister, he wanted to see you.

It’s selfish; to hope you’d forgive him, welcome him, accept him, perhaps even like him.

Hoping you’d love him the way he loved you seemed impossible.

For now, he’d accept anything you would offer him, whether it’s a glance in his direction, a quiet ‘hello’ or a small smile.

Any acknowledgment.

He knew he shattered your trust, but he’d work forever to get it back if that’s what it took.

He’d wait for you forever.

And he hoped that one day, you’d come see him again as you did before.

[wof-reworked]

I don’t want to reblog the post in question because like. I generally like the people involved in it but there’s a post about Qibli going around rn that is making me legitimately kind of mad so let’s talk about Qibli and where Tui fucked up with him, but also where she didn’t

(this is going to get a little bit aggressive, I might end up deleting this because it is an impassioned rant of sorts, but it’s on my mind as more people talk about Qibli)

(please, keep in mind: I don’t think all of his behavior is healthy. This dragon needs some goddamn therapy. But I think the distinction between unhealthy vs destructive is important. I talk about this later)

SO.

The idea that Qibli is manipulative for having very clear self loathing and trauma is, quite frankly, disgusting?? Like did you forget that a really, really common trauma response is to latch onto people who are kind to you in your life??? The idea that Qibli only acts like he cares about Thorn, his fucking adoptive mother, to get her to pay attention to him is a wild stretch and such a butchering of their relationship I’m genuinely still trying to comprehend it. 

 Qibli thinks Thorn hung the moon because, honestly, when you’re deprived of kindness, having it freely given feels like magic. And Thorn is one of the few dragons in Qibli’s life that has given him any amount of genuine compassion. And we see this with Moon too, the fact she thinks of him as smart and kind himself is something new and kind of shocking for Qibli. This is only emphasized by the fact she’s seen into his thoughts and finds someone she loves there. He thinks of Moon as being way too good for him (and he doesn’t understand why she likes *him*, or if she does at all) and it shows. 

 Like I know the point they’re trying to get at with this analysis, but it’s such a strange reading of the text. Qibli comparing himself to Winter in his thoughts is not the same thing as him pressuring Moon to choose him, if you remember, Qibli still has a piece of skyfire, meaning his thoughts are blocked from Moon’s. He isn’t thinking these things in an active attempt to pressure Moon, these are just his thoughts! He isn’t trying to pressure Moon into being in a relationship with him, he is just a deeply self loathing character, and her response reflects that with how she replies “don’t overthink this. say yes” BECAUSE QIBLI HAS BEEN, IF ANYTHING ELSE, DELIBERATELY AVOIDING TRYING TO PUT HER IN A POSITION WHERE SHE IS HIS ONLY OPTION. LIKE THIS WHOLE BOOK IS HIM GOING “I don’t want to pressure Moon into a relationship, I love her but I want what’s best for her”. AND SHE WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE KNOWS SHE’S SINCERE AND WANTS THIS TOO. 

And related to this: Him thinking about Winter is not about trying to garner sympathy from Moon or make himself the one who needs her attention, it’s based off genuinely feeling Winter brings more to the table and would be better for her. I’ll say it again: Qibli is a deeply insecure dragon who doubts his own skills constantly, that’s the root of him comparing himself to Winter. 

SO: EVERYTHING I’VE DESCRIBE IS UNHEALTHY. LIKE THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY WAY TO LIVE. BUT IT’S NOT MANIPULATIVE. I think what I would call Qibli is, more than anything, codependent. His relationships with Moon and Thorn involve idolizing them to an unhealthy degree and placing them on a pedestal where everything they do is right. I would’ve loved to see this get actually explored in canon. 

Now. I do want to point out Qibli’s book is not actually very good lol. Qibli is also never wrong, which is boring and bad storytelling. He solves everything put in front of him and always comes out perfectly fine and forgiving. I would’ve loved to see him as a more complex character, and honestly a better written character here’s how BPD qibli can still win- *I am dragged off-stage by a comically long hook*

And it’s worth mentioning: Part of Qibli being written without meaningful flaws is that this is presented as his genuine thoughts and feelings and reality. Qibli is not an unreliable narrator like Darkstalker or Peril. So the idea he’s “acting” or otherwise pretending to have these feelings is a really bad read. 

Not to get personal, but Qibli as a character matters to me a lot. As someone who struggles with a lot of the same inner monologue to the point of being brought to tears when I read this book the first time, this book and the message mean a lot to me. The idea that that inner monologue is indicative of being manipulative is the kind of rhetoric that lead to me feeling like I was manipulating people into caring about me when I shared my problems. That idea has actively sabotaged relationships in my life, and I cannot stress how much I hate it. That the only way to be mentally ill is to suffer in silence away from the world because sharing your feelings with loved ones is forcing them to care about you. 

I understand being annoyed by Qibli’s narration. I like a lot of Qibli critical analysis. Do not take this as me mindlessly defending this character. But I do not like the rhetoric I’m seeing passed around AT ALL. 

so y’know. If you can have compassion for Winter, you can have compassion for Qibli. 

[unohanadaydreams]

This was originally an ask I answered quite a while ago that I’ve gone back and edited. It went from 1k to 1.6k words so it’s been significantly reworked, so much so that if you’ve read it before, it’s enough of a new piece that you’ll hopefully enjoy reading it again! I’ve edited the original ask to reflect all changes, but believe me--it’s been through a transformation.

But, yeah, I’ve gotten quite a few asks for hurt/comfort Ukitake so this is an offering for all of you!! He only suffers a lil bit. <3

so close and yet so far from death [1.6k]

Jushiro Ukitake x Reader:

Falling to her knees, Kiyone pressed her blubbering face against the thin door. “He won’t tell us! Not a thing,” she said, like she was struggling to contain a sob.

Sentaro’s arms circling around her waist, he tugged her to a stand.

“We tried our best.” Despite his eyes holding yours, it seemed more a reassurance for the down trodden Kiyone leaning against him.

Your smile was soft when it lifted.

When had they ever failed at keeping their captain first in their hearts and minds?

“Of course, you did,” you said, trying to infuse your thanks into a tender tone. “Thank you for your efforts.”

Relieving them from their post with a squeeze to Sentaro’s shoulder and a ruffle of Kiyone’s hair, you pressed on.

And immediately crouched to the floor, your fingers smoothing over the warm knit blanket tossed in the entry way, your heart squeezing.

Oh, Jushiro.

You smothered your face in the blanket. Breathed in his scent. Desperate to collect yourself with arms full of buttery soft yarn. You waited, crouched and tense, for the knot of tears that pricked at your throat to loosen and dissolve away.

The growing sadness only made the tears spill. How hypocritical of you--wishing  Jushiro would see more than pity in your actions, while you paused here…pitying you both.

With a soft determination, you nodded, brushed tears from warm cheeks.

“Right!” Using the momentum of your renewed hope, you hoisted yourself up, wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, and toed off both your sandals. Your thoughts of ‘poor Jushiro’ left in the doorway with them.

The blanket hugged you, warm and comfortable as you padded across the tatami mat to the backyard. You might have paused longer without the yarn-spun shield--near dead, with Fall smoothly moving to embrace Winter, the garden looked unwelcoming.

The chill of stepping outside slapped at your exposed face in uneven bursts of wind, but you persisted, fingers foisted in the blanket.

You seemed to spot him all at once, as though the slump of his frame had camouflaged him. His bleak mood folding him into the similarly blanched surroundings.

He was without his captain’s coat. The thin, faded kimono he often wore to bed was all that shielded him from the wind’s bite. Strands of his long, bone white hair lifted, like the wind was a mouth, tugging.

You kept your feet steady despite the worry, unsure if the deep concern you felt would cause him to flee; a deer bolting at the first crunch of underbrush.

“Jushiro,” you said. Your voice tensed his shoulders, caused his head to jump as though roused from thought.

Your arms de-tangled from the wool and draped it over his shoulders before you sank beside him. “Your lieutenants are sulking like puppies, you know.”

“Hm. They should be used to it by now,” he said in a melancholy tone that you struggled to hear. Jushiro never spoke about the silly tag team who constantly trailed him like that.

‘Patience be damned,’ you thought. Groaning loud and forceful you smacked your cold hands against your equally frost licked cheeks. “I can’t do it!”

Jushiro finally turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t stand seeing you so down on yourself,” you carried on, the steam of your outrage warming you, causing your breath to puff in white clouds. “And I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

He winced, a bitter twist raising his lips at the sight of your hand grabbing for his. “I couldn’t get through the proposal.”

“It was just bad timing.”

His gaze retreated, moving to track flashing scales of sluggish, well-fed koi instead.

“Yes, exactly,” Jushiro croaked. “What if it’s always bad timing? Will you be so understanding when it’s our wedding day that I’m coughing up blood at?”

Your hand tightened around his, rubbing at his pale, thin fingers. “Of course,” you said, trying to contain your frustration. “Jushiro, I love you. I love all of you. Not just when you’re healthy or when life is easy.”

His dark brown eyes met yours for a breathless moment before his hand squeezed back and he laced your fingers together. “You deserve someone like that, -chan. Someone healthy. Who makes life easy.”

You couldn’t have shaken your head with anymore force, wishing you could smash your forehead against his and force every ounce of your feelings through his thick skull. Jushiro’s determination to upend your point tightened your throat.

“No,” you said, voice quivering in frustration. “I deserve the man who proposed to me because he loves me so much he wants to spend his life with me!! I--”

His arms were tugging at your back before you could speak further. Your deep, shuddering breath sucked the cotton fabric against his chest to your lips as you began to cry in earnest.

There was nothing to do but say it once more--”I love you, Jushiro. I do.”

“Oh,” he said, so mournful in his regret. “My dear.”

“Am I?,” you sobbed. “Then why can’t I be your wife, too?”

His hair tickled at your ears as it cascaded over you, his chin sharp against your scalp. “You are--oh, you are.”

He called your name, then again, and again, each utterance more bare than the last. “It’s just like me to forget how far pride forces you from others, isn’t it.”

Jushiro’s lips pressed to the top of your head, the chill of his own tears pooling between the kiss. The proof of his hurt did nothing to satisfy you. But your crying slowed, your arms hugging him, hands meeting behind his shaking back.

“Yes, but you understand now, don’t you? You’re not a sickness I need shielded from.”

Arms almost crushing, he held you tightly, for long minutes that were marked only by soft crying and whistling wind. “Thank you,” he managed after his body had grown steady.

Your tears wet his kimono in a warm pool of relief as he rubbed firm circles against your back. Your hands clutch at his sides, pressing to feel the warm of his body.

“Forgive me, please. I’m just so used to...”--Jushiro grappled for words and you waited for him to wrestle the correct ones down--”keeping it hidden. Only being sick behind closed doors, away from everyone, and coming back when it’s through. There doesn’t seem to be any room for that kind of separation in marriage.”

“No,” you agreed. “I wouldn’t want there to be.”

Tentative, almost too low for you to hear anything but the vibration of his chest, he said, “I don’t want it to be that way either.”

“So, if you understand” you sniffle, muffled by fabric and skin and salty tears, failing at light-hearted. “Are we still getting married?”

Jushiro pushed at your shoulders until you felt the wind drying your tears in a cruel chill. His thin hands cupped your face, thumbs swiping at the damp tracks trailing your cheeks. You did the same for him. “-chan,” he sighed, tender and reassuring. “Would you marry a silly man like me? Through all my sickness and little bits of health?”

Puffs of visible warmth formed between your faces as you chuckled in pathetic, wet hiccups. “Yes. For the second time, yes.”

Jushiro relaxed fully in one large breath as he leaned forward to kiss you, both of you unbothered by the mingling tears wetting your faces or the briny taste of them shared between your tongues.

His hands cradled your back and pressed you fully against him as he deepened the kiss, his head canting to the side. The blanket fell from his shoulders. Tumbling from your reach as you locked your arms around his neck.

Your lips detached from Jushiro’s as a thump sounded from the porch, Shunsui’s voice registering seconds after.

“Well, what did I say, you two?”

Quick enough to bring spots to your eyes, you turned to see Sentaro’s body lying prone against the wood, his fingers shielding a blushed face. Both he and Kiyone looked mortified, yet unable to look away as Shunsui glided toward you.

“C-captain we-we just,” Kiyone said, her teeth chattering in anxiety as she squashed her face with clutching hands, fingers wide enough to allow her eyes an unobstructed view.

“We came to celebrate the newlyweds,” Shunsui interrupted, smoothly raising a large, elegantly decorated bottle of unopened sake. “But don’t let us interrupt you just yet. Sake’s always sweeter with a view, after all. And something tells me it was just getting good.”

Jushiro inhaled deeply as he hugged you close again, but his brown eyes were light, twinkling with humor. “I should thank you to keep that particular gaze away from my future wife.”

Freeing your head with a twist, you eyed Shunsui with a dramatized sniff, your own arms tight around Jushiro’s body. “Sorry, but that was the end of whatever show you were hoping for!”

Shunsui flopped boneless to the porch. With a wink, he began pouring booze into large drinking saucers and you couldn’t help but grin. “Maaa. Just my luck.”

“We’ll be going now, captain!” Kiyone bowed dramatically, tugging at Sentaro’s uniform with enough force to tug it loose from his obi, as she backed away. “We’re so happy for you!”

“Congratulations, captain! I’m the happiest I’ve ever BEEN for you!”

“Everyone’s going to be so excited!!”

“Kiyone! How dare you?! I would NEVER spread this information without our captain’s permission!”

“Wha--no! Captain, I meant when they find out! I would hate even MORE to spread your private information around.”

Your laughter warmed everything inside you. Jushiro’s arms holding you helping just as much.

Thanking them, you and he dismissed them with fond smiles that they took with them, their bickering explosive with relief.

As Jushiro pressed his lips to your cheek and led you to the porch, you were glad for both his and Shunsui’s hand helping you to kneel. Your soul felt so light, without them, you’d surely float away.

[technitango]

So @cloudyyoungjaes posted in the tag about a fic from Kkomi's POV. Idk if this is what you were looking for but I couldn't help myself and wrote something. I wrote it up so quick so forgive if there are spelling errors!

***

There's a warm hand on her head, gently scratching between her ears, touch light, not demanding, pleasing and just right. A purr starts deep in Kkomi's chest, and she nuzzles into the palm contentedly.

The lap she is currently curled up on is one she has recently become reacquainted with. She has an inkling of a person she had almost forgotten, but wonders how she could ever forget? She likes everything about this human.

The way he smells, like the earth and the flowers that Kkomi enjoys rolling around in and batting at in the Springtime. The timbre of his voice, rumbling pleasantly against her whenever he laughs as she's laid across his chest. The gentle way he holds her in his arms when he's fluttering around the kitchen, filling the place with all sorts of fascinating smells that a cat like Kkomi most certainly can't resist.

"Yah! You traitor!"

Kkomi's eyes slant open at the familiar voice, nose quivering curiously. Kkomi's human is home. The girl is shooting daggers in Kkomi's direction as she wheels into the living room, but Kkomi pays her no mind, squeezing her eyes back shut and tucking her head beneath her paws.

"She's only on my lap because you weren't home, Elijah."

"Don't try to placate me Ga On, we all know Kkomi loves to play favorites."

The sound of wheels across the wooden floor draws nearer, and Kkomi finds herself unceremoniously lifted into the air. She lets out an indignant squawk and plants her paws on Her human's chest. They're frozen there for a moment, staring at each other face to face as Her human holds her.

Kkomi thinks Her human is truly insufferable most of the time. Always wanting attention. Constantly dragging her around here and there. Of course, Kkomi loves the undivided attention, but she's loath to admit it. She can't give all her cards away like that.

Kkomi decides she's in a particularly good mood today though and Her human is the prettiest human after all, with her soft features and large eyes, and her enticing strands of hair that Kkomi loves to chew on. She squeezes her eyes lovingly in Her humans direction, relaxing her paws and allowing herself to be pulled into an embrace that isn't altogether too uncomfortable. The purr starts up again unbidden.

"See, she loves you too."

Her human gives a satisfied hum.

"What's for dinner?" Her human questions. Kkomi perks up at the mention of dinner. She knows what dinner is and she is particularly fond of it.

"I'm making salmon and-"

"Ga On, not again! Could you be any more obvious? Just because Uncle liked it so much the first time you made it. I swear, everyone in this house plays favorites."

The other human sputters a bit, laughing nervously, Kkomi can almost picture him ruffling the hair at the back of his neck in that habit of his whenever he's flustered. Her human tsks and they're moving, although they come to a brief stop in the doorway, Her human shuffling a bit as she turns her head around.

"It's fine anyway, I like it a lot too."

The words are said quickly and the two of them are on the move again before the other human can even respond. But if Kkomi had bothered to look she would have seen the fond and loving smile blooming across his face at the words.

It's sometime later Kkomi awakens from one of her many naps. She is on Her human's bed now, and she stands, stretching out drowsily, muscles shaking a bit at the effort. She bathes herself in routine fashion, starting first at the ears and face, then down the back, thoroughly between each and every toe.

Once done she scans the room, noting Her human is seated at the desk, head fallen against an open college textbook, chest rising and falling in the rhythmic pattern of sleep. Kkomi leaps off from the bed and pads out of the room, making her way quietly down the hall to the cracked open door at the very end, where light is spilling through from the inside.

She pushes her way in, quickening her pace at seeing that He is here, tapping away at the computer in front of him, concentrating on something that is not her, which just will not do, of course.

This human is the one she has known the longest. Kkomi thinks of him as a kindred spirit. They are two of the same, a connection based on the cruelty of abandonment. Of course, Kkomi could not define it in such a clear way, but it is something she knows instinctually. Nevertheless this is the human she loves to give the hardest time to, something akin to a younger sibling.

She mischievously makes her way near, stopping below the edge of the desk and rocking her back end in preparation for a leap. 3, 2, 1. And she's off.

She lands perfectly dead and center on some papers, sending them askew and causing Him to jump, startled by her sudden presence. Kkomi happily prances across the desk, expertly avoiding His grasp as He tries to catch her, and finally sits herself directly on the laptop's keyboard, doing a few turns and settling down with a determined air.

He looks at her with mirth dancing behind His eyes, reprimand in His voice as He shakes His head and shoves her off the laptop. She makes sure to be as deadweight as possible so He has a difficult time of it.

Still He let's Kkomi stay, tucked on top of a stack of books, her eyes flitting back and forth excitedly as she watches Him work the night away. He has always been a busy man. But as of late the air around Him has changed some. There isn't the same wild energy, the oppressive, determined, yet almost painful, aura. He is still busy, of course, but a calm has settled in, a peace that Kkomi much prefers.

There is a noticeable shift in the energy of the room. He lifts His gaze and His eyes visibly soften, His shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. Ah, Kkomi knows what this is. The other human is here.

"Yohan-ah." The other humans voice is soft as always, chiding and loving all at once. "Let's go to bed, hm?"

Kkomi watches as He rises and meets the other human halfway. The way He falls into the others embrace, burrowing His head into the other's shoulder, breathing in deeply. He makes a noise not unlike the purrs Kkomi makes when she is particularly content.

Kkomi could stick around but she is not much of a voyeur so she hops lightly off the desk and leaves just in time before the door is shut closed behind her with an audible click.

The cat slinks through the now dark home, easily finding her way to the living room window sill with her perfect night vision. She stares out into the moonlit night, watching the shadows of the trees as they rock gently back and forth, and listening to the creatures that only her sensitive ears can pick up on.

It's different here than where she was before. The weather patterns are changed, the foliage is unfamiliar, and some of the creatures are old and new alike. Kkomi is not one for change, but it's been long enough now that she doesn't mind.

She is well fed. She is well loved. She has her people. It is the best for her. As a cat, it's only what she deserves of course. But still, there is a recollection of colder, hungrier times. It is faint, a memory mostly lost to time, a thing of the past. Yet Kkomi is grateful.

She twitches her tail a bit. Well, at least, as grateful as a cat can be.

[hamliet]

What Does It Mean to Save?

I keep seeing it said that Deku, Ochaco, and Shouto will “save” Shigaraki, Himiko, and Dabi, but that there will be no redemption and/or no survival for them. I’m truly not trying to vague these posts and everyone is entitled to their opinion, but literary criticism is fundamentally responsive so I’m writing this anyways.

I personally think that’s not BNHA’s definition of saving nor of redemption. So here, have a deep dive into literary tropes related to redemption, genre, and character arcs as they pertain to BNHA and the question of: what does it mean to save Shigaraki, Touya, and Himiko?

Before we begin, let me say that while we might be personally uncomfortable with redemption (there’s a redemption arc in BNHA I am personally quite uncomfortable with), that doesn’t inherently mean the narrative won’t go there. The key principle I’m operating on here is BNHA’s message that heroes save people. It’s held up as the highest ideal. 

So let’s talk redemption in BNHA-verse. With this guy, whose redemption arc I dislike in principle but accept as part of the story so don’t come for me stans and/or antis. I’m analyzing because it shows us what redemption means in BNHA-verse, whether or not that is satisfying to you personally as it fits/does not fit with your own morality/philosophy.

If Endeavor can be redeemed and live, and he’s Bakugou’s negative foil, I highly doubt Shigaraki and Deku as well as Touya and Shouto and Ochaco and Himiko will be any different. Why? Because Enji is an adult character. The others--well, Himiko’s age we don’t know, but we do know that Shigaraki and Dabi are technically adults. But does the story consider them adults?

(It doesn’t.)

Child-coded characters are generally more likely to survive a redemption, which I’ll explain more later. First I have to define what I mean by child-coding, because I DO NOT mean this in the way it’s often (mis)used in fandom wank. Child-coding is a real thing, but it is not done to infantilize and it has nothing to do with shipping.

Child coding frames the character as a child for a few narrative purposes to convey a story’s theme or purpose. For example, if it’s a coming of age story coding a character as a child even if they legally are not emphasizes their journey to an understanding of self-actualization, or a true understanding of self with self-awareness and an understanding of self-value. An example of an adult coded as a child is The Kite Runner, wherein Amir is a legal adult for half the story, even married for fifteen years so we’re talking 30s-40s, but he does not truly become an adult until he returns to his homeland and takes responsibility for a childhood sin. In Attack on Titan, the main characters are now nineteen, but are still struggling to take responsibility as adults and have only started doing so now that their mentors/parental figures have started dying.

Along those lines, in any kind of story, you can code a character as a child of someone, regardless of biological relationship, to convey the type of relationship they have (usually a mentor one). For an example of this, see Bungo Stray Dogs’ Dazai and Akutagawa. Despite their two year age difference, Dazai recruited him to the mafia, abandoned him, and Akutagawa desperately seeks his approval. Usually in these stories a character will “overcome” their parental figure. This can be done through overcoming their need for the parental figure’s approval in stories where the parental figure is kindly (such as in Harry Potter, when in the final book Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave the Weasleys to find the Horcruxes despite Mrs. Weasley’s please) or through like, killing/stopping/leaving the parental figure when they are abusive (see fairy tales like Rapunzel and Cinderella). The parental link to self-actualization is because it is childlike (and a part of actual psychology that is reflected in literature) to see yourself as a part of your parent; self-actualized person would see yourself as a distinct person from your parent, but also acknowledge the ways in which they’ve shaped you.

So, how do you code a character as a child? BNHA isn’t subtle about it, because Horikoshi seldom is subtle about anything. The villain trio are all coded as children.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Who cannot achieve self-actualization so long as AFO has access to his body, as he’s literally trying to possess him. He’s trying, but it’s not gonna work because Shigaraki can’t keep AFO and become an adult at the same time. It’s a choice the narrative is setting up: your dream of destroying, or your freedom? (To get the latter, he’ll probably have to destroy AFO).

Todoroki Touya, who is repeatedly emphasized as a small child when compared to his siblings, and yes, I know he’s now tall. Specifically he’s spotlighted as the child of Endeavor:

And he’s the least self-actualized one in a lot of ways, contradicting himself constantly. I’m not Endeavor, DUH! But these are Endeavor’s flames! He’s gonna have to choose one or the other, because the tragic irony is that the more he takes out his rage on those around him, the more like Endeavor he becomes.

And Toga Himiko (who might well literally be a legal child), who is actually the most self-actualized one thus far, because she rejects Curious’s child insistence (Curious holds her in a Pieta pose, based on Michelangelo’s statue wherein Mary holds a deceased Christ):

She’s still got, like, a way to go though:

Because Himiko also wants to be like the people she loves to the point where she loses her own identity in them, which is er, not self-actualization. So she’ll have to choose whether or not she really wants to be like the people she loves or whether she wants to live her own way, which she herself tells us how that would end (death):

Deku said it himself: it’s good to focus on what someone is doing now. And look, I have issues with this statement and how it’s framed. I’ve talked about it at length and it was doomed to fail because Shouto himself told us long ago that it was annoying to hear a righteous speech by a stranger when you hadn’t gone through the same, plus Endeavor kinda failed by choosing being a hero over a dad here. But, the principle is that if the past doesn’t preclude Endeavor from seeking a better self, why would it preclude three characters coded as children, one of whom is literally somewhat the product of Endeavor’s sins? BNHA doesn’t think the past keeps someone from a better future. 

So what about Dabi’s counterpoint, which is indeed valid? Well, redemption doesn’t mean the past forgets, either. It’s complicated and nuanced, and we can debate how well Horikoshi strikes this nuance (it’s got its flaws), and admittedly I don’t know how this will go down in the future. But it is asking Endeavor: how do you redeem yourself to the people you’ve hurt? And we have Endeavor asking this question to Touya’s shrine. I mean, the foreshadowing is obvious. Endeavor has to redeem himself by trying to save Touya. However, it will still probably come down to Shouto to save Touya.

For our three villains, it’s a little harder to predict... well, sort of. For Shigaraki it’s extremely obvious: he has to help take down AFO. Dabi probably has to do something to help his family (siblings probably), but it’s vague. Toga needs help and not condemnation, but presumably she’ll help Ochaco with something.

So, is this redemption? I’d define it as redemption in the eyes of the narrative. To address what makes a redemption is another essay unto itself, but if we bring in the oft-compared Star Wars example: did Darth Vader get a redemption? Did Ben Solo? Everyone says yes to both. However, only Luke witnesses Vader’s redemption, and only Rey Ben Solo’s. So the rest of the galaxy? Doesn’t think so. When I say they’ll be redeemed, I’m defining it as their role in the eyes of the narrative, not whether or not society will accept them or even whether their victims will forgive them (of note, in canonical novels, Leia never forgave Darth Vader despite learning he was her father and obviously knowing Luke’s account of his redemption was true).

So, redemption in a narrative doesn’t mean all of society has to forgive and accept them. Dabi has still like, murdered 30 people--many of whom were thugs, but he himself acknowledges they didn’t deserve to die. Additionally, he himself also acknowledges that the families left behind--their feelings matter:

But why does that mean they have to die? Why even does it mean they have to languish in prison forever? (If there’s even a safe prison at the end of BNHA which I kinda have doubts about.) Heroes have also killed: see Hawks as Exhibit A. In fact, some people want revenge on the heroes precisely because they arrested or killed their loved ones (jail isn’t held up as a rehabilitative place in BNHA’s world. In most countries it isn’t in real life, either, but again that’s for another essay). So why don’t the League’s feelings on Twice’s death matter just as much as the feelings of unnamed and unseen (and thereby less important narratively) characters?

Additionally, regarding death... the villains routinely get called on their death wishes. Himiko’s determination to decide how/when she dies is called out because this is right  before Twice overcomes his trauma to save her, and the next arc they appear in is when Twice dies trying to save her again. Dabi’s suicide wish keeps him from getting close to others, and it keeps getting thwarted. Shigaraki’s obsession with destruction and death is clearly not a good thing, and his rejection of his family’s desire for them to join him in death this past arc is growth.

In other words: what Dabi said and what Snatch said about families and how they feel matter for the villains too. The villains are their own weird found family (Dabi as the deadbeat prodigal brother of both his families). Their deaths--Magne’s and Twice’s thus far, and I’m not ruling out further deaths in the future--affect the others. People’s feelings on losing loved ones matter. The villains are people, as Himiko said herself this arc:

Their feelings about each other matter:

How would Touya dying affect the Todorokis? At least they saved him spiritually, I guess, but that’s absolutely lame narratively, and if you have Enji eventually do a sacrifice to save Dabi (pretty likely, even if I personally think Enji will survive said sacrifice) then what’s the point of Dabi dying? How would Himiko dying affect society? As a martyr like Curious wanted her to be, even a redeemed one? A tragic warning story? What even is the point of Ochaco saving her if that’s the case? If Shigaraki dies, well, who would mourn besides Deku? How would Shigaraki dying affect the surviving members of the league? He just couldn’t be saved physically? 

It’s not impossible some of this happens, but it doesn’t seem like great writing, especially with panels like, oh, these that show us BNHA’s perspective on death:

Sacrificing something is a type of death that occurs in stories; this should happen in a redemption arc, which is why I’ve been saying Enji needs to sacrifice his hero reputation to help save Touya and even then it’ll still be Shouto imo who does the saving. But physical death?

If you want further analysis of the latter two panels and how they relate to the ending, see here.

We already have another villain who will definitely die redemptively (Kurogiri--an adult coded character--because he’s already, like, dead), and Spinner and Mr. Compress aren’t coded as kids so I hold them with anxiety towards the end. But again, this isn’t me being ageist or saying this is the way things ought to be in fiction or real life: it’s me looking at writing tropes and saying that child-coded characters tend to survive their redemptions. See: Zuko. Why? Because the death of children or child-coded characters is a tragedy. When a child-coded character dies redemptively it doesn’t feel like a happy ending and if framed as such, it’s often criticized for bad writing (see: Ben Solo). Curious even called this out in her fight with Himiko. I would hope Horikoshi doesn’t end the story being like yeah Curious was right that’s the best use of Himiko’s/Dabi’s/Shigaraki’s arcs:

Additionally, as for the believability of a character getting a new chance after so much destruction and murder... well, it’s kinda a thing in shonen and even in seinen? For better or for worse, it’s a thing. We have Vegeta in Dragon Ball Z and Kaneki Ken in Tokyo Ghoul (Kaneki, by the way, is absolutely an inspiration for Shigaraki). We can debate how well-written these redemptions are (I personally have been quite critical of Kaneki’s despite wanting it to happen narratively), but it can be done. BNHA’s Japan especially isn’t as harsh a world as Tokyo Ghoul’s Japan, so it would make even more sense for something like Kaneki’s ending.

The reality is that the cycle of revenge via hurting people and then leaving hurting families and loved ones has to stop somewhere. Someone has to be the bigger person and step up and be like “naw.” That’s heroic. That’s brave. That’s sacrificial itself. Justice itself doesn’t really exist in its purest form without mercy.

There’s another genre-reason I don’t see death or jail as likely (I could see, like, maybe a mental health ward like Rei’s? But it’s too soon to speculate).

If saving is considered a good thing for the story, if it’s truly the highest ideal, then saving someone should be rewarded by the narrative. The characters who save should have a positive result to show us this a good thing.

This is why it doesn’t work for the heroes’ end journey to be accepting that some people cannot be saved. The notion of just accepting that you cannot do something, you cannot save everyone, you cannot, cannot, cannot, is called out as a flaw of society. Determination, on the other hand, is rewarded.

We see it with Deku as well as with Mirio.

So, what if they save them and the redeemed characters then go on to sacrifice themselves in their redemption and die (come to the same end)? If saving changes absolutely nothing for the saved person, if it’s too late for the saved from themselves to change and/or do anything that matters besides die, then the narrative theme of saving as important is left unemphasized at best and undermined at worst. Simple intrinsic knowledge that the kids “did the right thing” doesn’t cut it for a story with so much focus on physical saving when the kids are already doing the right thing; moral struggles about whether to choose to be good aren’t really Deku, Ochaco, or Shouto’s arcs. It works for Aizawa’s arc with Kurogiri, but not for the kiddos. If BNHA was more of a philosophical/spiritual text, that would indeed make sense, but it is not. Genre-wise, BNHA is a fantastical superhero optimistic story, not a gritty real-world set drama.