#the horror. the loneliness. the betrayal.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

What it feels like being the only one to post in a day of Sketchbook Week (so far at least)

[chronicdisasterwrites]

these morons of jujutsu high

pairing: gojo satoru, geto suguru, shoko ieiri and fem!reader

genre + warnings: - this is NOT a poly fic. they’re all just vvv good friends. nanami and haibara were mentioned. mentions of blood, death and general jujutsu kaisen TW stuff. smoking, the word “goddamned” is mentioned. gojo being an idiot lmfao.

overall FLUFF !!

word count: 1219

authors note: so this is just a cute, heartfelt piece about the jjk troublemakers including and reader. i was thinking of making this the intro of a potential series but ✨ let’s see ✨

enjoyyyy <3

Is this really my life?

A question that always lingers in your mind.

Being a jujutsu sorcerer was no walk in the park. Death was a regular occurrence in your line of work. Deaths you anticipated, deaths you caused, deaths of friends, and even deaths of curses. None of them are ever easy to deal with. Nothing about this goddamned job is easy.

The smell of blood is as common to you as the smell of antiseptics is to a doctor. The sound of a curse evaporating into nothingness is ingrained in your brain as the sound of a child's first laughter is ingrained in the minds of their parents. Your hands are used to the touch of the cold steel of your weapons as a guitarist is used to the wood of their guitar.

This is your life. Your weapons are your instruments and the world is your stage. The only difference is, you have the blood of the crowd on your hands every. single. day. The blood of curses, the blood of humans, the blood of your comrades, and the blood of your own body.

How could it be that this life; so full of hurt, pain, despair, regret, fear, loneliness, anxiety, and depression, can also have so much happiness, love, excitement, companionship, adventure, humor, and serenity? That’s life, you suppose. But how can a life like yours have so much love alongside such hatred?

Your friends are the reason, you suppose.

These morons of Jujutsu High.

They feel the same emotions as deeply as you do. They have all felt loss, betrayal, grief, and death as much as you have.

Gojo Satoru had basically been raised as a trophy or a high-value product kept in perfect condition for the world to gawk at with wide eyes and ulterior motives. With the weight of the responsibility of being ‘Strongest’ hanging over his shoulders and daggers and spears pointed at him from every direction, he never had the chance to be a mere child. Which is what he was. Just a child. From birth to the present day, he has had eyes on him with the neon sign labeled ‘Strongest Sorcerer Ever’ blinking over his head. Always on his guard, being wary of who to trust. Not a moment to be a child. Not a moment to be a teenager and certainly not a moment to be an independent adult, free to choose who to love or what to do in life. He only has one thing to do. One obligation he has had since birth. Be the strongest. Throughout the heavens and the earth, he alone is the honored one.

It's a pretty lonely role for one person to bear.

Geto Suguru has kind eyes, a simple smile, and an extremely feared cursed technique; but what that smile and easygoing personality covers is his heart burdened with the horrors he has had to face in his life. He too, was born with the responsibility of using his cursed technique to help people. Born with the ability to absorb curses and later use them as he so desires. Living every day just killing and absorbing something that tastes like a rag covered in vomit and shit. Having to force your oesophagus to open up and force your mind to think of something more delicious whilst absorbing the thing you killed a few minutes ago is all second nature to Geto Suguru. Doesn’t mean it ever gets easier. But the smile comes easily to him and his voice stays soft and stable as his words soothe even those who hate him.

Because Geto Suguru wants to help those who are weak, and he would swallow all the curses necessary in order to do so.

Shoko Ieiri is the epitome of genius. Since she was a child she knew fully how to use the reversed curse technique; the ability to heal oneself and others, a technique even the strongest and most experienced jujutsu sorcerers have trouble mastering. Being so valuable means she has to stay in a lot, or go to missions alone a lot. She doesn’t get to choose missions, doesn’t get to accompany her friends to even ‘potentially’ dangerous locations. Being so valuable, she is the first person every jujutsu sorcerer goes to for healing and rejuvenation. Which also means she has to see a lot of her comrades lie on the steel bed, lifeless and cold and limp. She is the one who has to patch them up and she is the one who has to cut them open. Dealing with death and the aftermath is her job.

That's a lot of death for two eyes to see and two hands to explore.

Meeting them, knowing them, and growing to love them is the most rewarding experience your roller coaster of a life has had to offer by far. Checking out every single cafe Japan has to offer, milking Satoru of all his wealth by going out to eat and Satoru eating the most (ironically), pissing off Yaga-Sensei, celebrating birthdays, arguing and then making up with actions instead of verbal apologies, being the loudest group in every train station, smoke breaks with Shoko and Suguru while hiding away from Satoru, spending sleepless nights under the stars with Satoru, teasing Nanami and Haibara for acting like a 50-year-old married couple, fighting curses and always having each other’s backs. This was your family. However dysfunctional and however small.

So now, sitting in the classroom watching Suguru and Satoru bicker about who knows what this time, with Shoko sitting next to you fiddling around with Satoru’s sunglasses making faces and terrible impressions, bathed in the golden rays flooding the room through the windows as the sun goes down, you ponder the question; is this really your life?

You hear your name being called and the train of thought comes to a halt, as you look up to find honey-gold eyes staring back at you.

“What’re you thinking about so hard?” Suguru asks with his soft eyes and an even softer smile.

“She’s obviously thinking about how right I am and how wrong you are, Suguru,” Satoru interjects with his usual cocky smile and teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yeah, she definitely thinks a seal can beat a hippo in a fight to the death,” Shoko quips with unimpressed eyes and an obviously sarcastic smile.

Satoru slaps his hand on the desk so loudly that the sound reverberates throughout the entire floor you’re on, “HAH! Thank you Shoko, exactly what I’m saying. Of course I’m right.”

He wears an accomplished smile as the sarcasm completely flies over his stupid head.

“Gojo… I was joking. You’re obviously wrong.”

You can almost hear something crack in his head. The sound of disappointment.

“HEY just think about it okay? So a seal-“

As a new chapter of bickering begins between Shoko and Satoru, Suguru nudges your shoulder with a quirk of his eyebrows, silently repeating his previous question.

You look at him, look back at Satoru and Shoko and shake your head with a content smile and a huff of laughter, “Just thinking about life, I guess.”

With a hum and a smile Suguru relaxes on your other side as you both turn your attention to the ongoing argument unravelling before you.

Yeah. This really is my life.

[genomesoldier]

~ As Cold as I ~

A Soft King x Reader (By Technicality)

  Trigger Warnings - Death, minor blood, and general angst.  Made under the pretense that Player and Softie. Perceived as romantic but can (probably) be interpreted as platonic if you squint. 

Description - He let his guard down for only a moment and that was enough. Love loses (again). Unlike Brad, he witnesses everything.

"Deep in the back of the Soft Kings' conscience was he aware, if only slightly, that this voice that spoke to him sweet nothings and promises of happiness were all too good to be true. The King cast those doubts aside repeatedly, hoping that he would be proven wrong. That he would no longer be alone. He had finally allowed himself a moment of real peace with the feeling of another in his arms. Someone he loved; someone he’d believed was the other half he’d been missing. For a moment, he felt truly happy. That feeling only lasted a moment as he’d felt one of his hands move on its own." 

Hazily, like those nightmares that plagued him so, did he recall himself drawing that icy blade. The Icedagger--of which had been his bane and personal curse--from its resting place at his belt. His hand trembled slightly in resistance, futilely so. The King’s movements were not his own, and he felt his conscience slipping. That honeyed voice hummed in his head again, now condescending rather than sweet. He felt himself draw a all-too calm breath, the King wrestling for any semblance of control against this voice inside his head that haunted him. His inner world was a flurry of feelings: dread, betrayal, helplessness. They taunted him like the voice in his head that laughed and called him a fool, and a fool he had been! He pleaded in silence, begged in his own mind for even an ounce of mercy. "Please, not like this." The voice that haunted him did not listen. The dagger stared at him, reflecting his visage: one all too calm for where his blade was poised and staring with a gaze that wasn’t his own in a cold, almost triumphant glance, as though a mirrored version of himself were taunting him with the reality of the situation. The moment felt like it lasted an eternity, but the exchange between the puppet and its master only lasted a fleeting second. He had made a final attempt at resistance... but he had lost that battle a long time ago. 

So there the Soft King stood now, eyes finally widening in abject horror as he struggles to hold up the limp form of this person who he let himself love. Whatever horrible force that had been speaking to him, whatever had taken control: it had forced him to watch their life leave his partner’s eyes. He felt a shuddering breath leave him as he involuntarily recalled the look of sheer betrayal on their face as their expression glazed over. Recalled the twisting of the knife in their back that made him internally recoil. The voices' words were cruel, words of blame and taunts to the King’s own gullibility made him grit his teeth as the noise refused to be silenced. The King lowered to his knees, delicate with the body in his arms like he was afraid of hurting them further. The deed, however, had already been done. He shook his own head in disbelief, a quiet mantra of pleas escaping him as his mind struggled to catch up to the present. "No, no, no..."

It was far, far too late. His heart strained and he felt weak. His composure finally fails him as he feels his shoulders slump and cold tears that stung at his eyes slipping and icing against his cold, snowy skin. His mind raced at how quickly it had happened; struggled to accept what had come to be. Deep down, he knew he’d played his part to whatever puppeteer had piloted him. He had done it to perfection, and he loathed every second of it. The King had danced to that voice's tune; those promises of putting the loneliness behind him. The idea of finally being happy. His hand that had wielded the Icedagger against his own will shook hard, and it took all his courage to dare to free it from the Player’s back. He couldn't help the silent apology that left him. The motion had hurt as if he'd pulled the blade from himself. Violently, the cursed dagger was tossed aside, sliding along the ground with a tormenting clatter. Blood flew with it, and he feels the substance warm on his gloved hands. An uncanny feeling that was ironic to boot; as he’s left holding the one person the Soft King felt he’d truly loved: who was now as cold as he. 

~

It's only right that I did him some sort of justice too.

[evans23]

Cherished love

Pairing : David Friedman x Reader OC

Summary : David had dived into his work to forget his loneliness. It was before you. With you in his life, he knows he could face everything, yet, he's afraid to lose you. Until you gift him with your innocence, making him understand that he was the one and you were his.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Smut. Age gap. @liviacarol88-blog ; @eccentricchick

A/N : Hello dear 😁 It took me a while, but here David's version of him and virgin reader. Enjoy and don't forget, requests are open ! =)

Lionel's version is here - Sinclair's version is here

Also read on AO3

David was excited, even though he didn't let his joy shine off too much. After all, He was a grumpy and disillusioned man and you knew that and what you had to deal with when you chose to commit yourself into a relationship with him. And more than knowing that, you were in love with him for his greatest happiness, although he still couldn't figure out how a beautiful and smart girl like you could have fallen in love with him.

You had met him thanks to one of your friends who appeared to be his colleague. Of course, she wasn't a policewoman or a detective or anything like that, just the pretty and kind receptionist who knew all the precinct gossip and had the need to peddle the latest rumors while meddling in the business of others. 

Truth be told, David wasn't particularly keen on being his friend but Philippa, your friend, wasn't one to be deterred and the secrecy surrounding David had attracted her attention as soon as she started her job there. Or at least, the introverted character of the man because she learned very quickly how his ex-wife had cheated on him with one of his friends, Matty. 

Because Philippa couldn't bear such a betrayal, she made it her mission to cheer up the grumpy, sarcastic, and hard-working detective at all costs. 

David was monosyllable when he answered her intrusive questions and his dark looks when she pushed him too far in his entrenchment never succeeded in intimidating her. She was such a force of nature and she fathomed quite quickly David was too and what he utterly needed was a woman in his life. A good one, not one of those who couldn't stand a man with internal struggles but who also had a deep mind full of thought about life. He also needed someone who could understand his busy life, his hectic schedule and the fact he couldn't be at home each night for dinner. To top it off, the girl had to be able to cope with his sarcasm, his moody temper and overall, who would be able to take in immediately how the world in which he was living was dark and let him with images of horror that, during too long, had him pour his sorrow into alcohol. 

And she knew the perfect girl for that. You, of course ! You and your many contradictions, your own deep struggles, you were, like him, an introvert, your mind was sharp and also full of sarcasm but contrary to the detective, you were a kind, smiling person who tried her best to stand despite the curve balls life had thrown you and for Philippa, it meant a lot about the true you. No one could be as kind as you were without a great deal of wisdom. Or at least, a really big soft heart. 

Therefore, her second mission started immediately after she arrived to this conclusion that you were the perfect match for David. It was to convince you to meet him. She was surprised to realise how easy it had been. She was used to you refusing to meet anyone she desperately wanted you to go out with. Yet, the loneliness surrounding you had taken its toll on your morale and you trust Philippa enough to know she wouldn't introduce you to him if she wasn't sure you could have some good chemistry with David.

Her third mission was the most complicated one. To convince David. Of course, she didn't succeed but when she saw you eventually becoming dismissive at the idea of meeting a man who seemed not interested at all, she thought harder, faster, and finally came up with the perfect plan. The Police Ball. An annual party during which everyone working for the precinct was invited and with the permission to bring a plus one. 

Normally, David never participated in that kind of event, but he was... a little bit punished for having misbehaved towards his nemesis : Matty. In fact, both of them had fought over a random topic, but quickly the tone had risen between the both of them and they came to blows. To be true, just one blow. From David. But in his defense, it was after having dodged Matty's fist. So, in his opinion, it had just been a fair game to give the man a taste of his own medicine. If Matty wasn't able to avoid the punch wasn't the fault of David after all. 

As a matter of course, their boss didn't see things like that, therefore, Matty had to be there all alone to catch up on his late administrative work and David... well David just had to be there, his boss knew it was enough punishment for him as the man hated this stupid party thing and would normally be on patrol or pouring over a case in the Evidence Room. And actually, it was what he was doing when you first met him. He was sitting at his desk, working on a new case. 

You were the plus one of Philippa, but the girl was so occupied batting her eyelashes at a newbie who could have been her son that she had totally forgotten about you. And funny enough, you who were thinking about taking a French leave, you bumped into the detective who didn't want to be put on a blind date with you. He groaned an apologize, ready to pass by you without even acknowledging you telling him you were the one not looking where you were going, but when he looked up at you, he found himself, mesmerised by you. 

Not that you were a great beauty, even though you were a really pretty girl in his eyes, but something about you just drew him in you. Of course, David was a rational man who didn't believe in love at first sight. Neither were you. But both of you had to admit that something happened that day. After one hour, he asked you if you wanted to go out for dinner without caring about his boss wanting him to be there. Anyway, he wouldn't notice David's absence as all his pores were breathing alcohol and if he tried to threaten the scruffy detective, David would have shown him the pictures he had taken, which wouldn't be great for the reputation of the precinct. 

After that day, you met several times, first in public places and later in his place where he cooked for you. To your surprise, David was quite a good cook, which was great as the only thing you were able to prepare was pasta. Butter pasta. That was it. 

Six months later, frustrated to not have you around when he came back from work or just having someone to speak with and wind down after a tough day at work, he asked you to move in with him in his secluded house. You would always remember with a kind fondness how he tried hard to impede his smile from being too large when you said yes in the nick of a time without even thinking twice about it.

And here you were, unboxing your last items, a good bunch of books that you stored on the shelves David had built up for you, while he was desperately trying to make some more room in his wardrobe for your too many clothes.

"Do you really need so many dresses ? And what about all these pants ? I've never seen you wearing a pant since we are together," he grumbled, moving his shirts to another shelf. 

"Of course, I need all that stuff. If it wasn't the case, I wouldn't have brought it with me," you answered pragmatically. 

He muttered indistinctly something that could have been "Ah ! Women !" which made you smile. You knew that despite his moody exterior and his rough edges, inside David was a soft heart. At least for you, yet it was all that matters. You had waited for long enough to find the one you wanted to be with and you were grateful it was David as he had everything you were looking for in a man.

With him, you always felt protected, but at the same time, his presence wasn't overwhelming. He was possessive without being on your back all the time. You were free to go out without having to ask for his permission and he didn't mind when you were out with your girlfriends for the night. His possessiveness was directed towards the other men. You knew he's gone through a difficult time with alcohol but also his wife cheating on him when he was so low. You could understand his need to put a hand on your hips or a kiss on your cheeks, which was totally out of character for him when you were in public, each time a man was looking at you with too much eagerness. 

"Here we are," said happily David, "everything's done and dusted," he added proudly, showing you the room he managed to free for the rest of your clothes.

"You're the best," you said, pecking his check before moving towards the living room to grab another box full of clothes.

David looked at you with affection, his heart swelled with love for you while you were moving with ease in his house, your house, as if you had always lived here. "And it's the case now," thought David with a Cheshire smile. 

As the night settled down, you were leaning up in his arms, watching a movie. At least, David was watching a movie, your mind was too busy with something else to really focus on what was going on on the screen. Indeed, little did David know that you kept a secret. Nothing really terrible, yet, at almost 35, it was quite terrifying to admit it out loud. Should he really have to know ? You had weighed the pros and cons several times and yet again tonight. After all, you had read enough books to know what to do. And you've seen enough movies too. Wasn't Game of Thrones the best teacher in that matter ? 

You sensed David's hand playing with the hem of the shorts you wore for sleeping and you knew what he wanted. He had tried to initiate something once but you had come up with the excuse you had your period and he didn't insist. After that, you were afraid to have put a damper on your relationship, but the next time you saw him, he acted as usual. He tried another time, but for your relief, you had been interrupted by a call from David's office. He was on-call that day and had to leave. You had waited for him that day, promising yourself to tell him the truth, but he came back in the early morning while you were asleep in his bed and when you woke up, he was the one sleeping soundly.

After that, he tried again, but in a more subtle way. David was not stupid. He also was a detective and for God's sake a good one ! He had understood something was weighing on your mind each time he wanted to take the plunge of the intimate step. Also, a little joke from Matty, who had managed to avoid being knocked down this time, had made his wheel's mind turn at full speed during one of his shifts.

That day, David was in quite a mood. You were sick with the flu and weren't able to accompany him to another work party, another one he had to be because he normally was working as he had fallen behind on his administrative work. That little rascal of Matty had taken advantage of David's ex-wife absence who was in the loo to provoke the detective. Matty was a little bit drunk and if he had promised his ex-wife to make more effort to be at least cordial with her new husband, only out of a remain of kindness for her but also because after all, no matter her betrayal, she was still the mother of his only daughter and if he had to be honest, he was such a dick at the time she chose to cheat on him with his colleague and best friend, he couldn't bear hearing that stupid jerk talking about you.

It wasn't the first time he teased you by talking about you in a way David didn't like, but that night, it was the last straw that broke the camel's back. 

"Friedman, what a mood," he had said, clapping his hand on the back of David.

David had tried his best to ignore him. After all, he knew what it was to be too drunk to think correctly and Matty's mind was probably more hazy than usual that night. 

"You didn't get to fuck your little mouse yet ?"

David had got up so fast that his chair had fallen down with a resonating sound. There was no one around his cramped office and while he was deciding if it was worth throwing a blow to the total asshole in front of him, Matty's found it uproarious to add that with his partner they had bet that either you were playing with him or you were a virgin.

It's when David lashed out, but fortunately for him, he missed Matty who ducked his fit with agility before poking with no grace his head against David's desk. David had to suppress a laugh, even though he managed to blow a malicious and almost vile "It serves you right". 

However, Matty's words that night had taken a toll on David's mind. He never thought of you as the kind of woman who could deceive someone and after a few days of keeping a close eye on your behavior either with him or others, his detective instinct had arrived to the conclusion you weren't playing with him and his feelings. So, could that idiot of Matty be right ? 

The more time was passing, the more David was sure it was the case. He subtly asked you some questions to find out if it could be for religious purposes and for his biggest relief as he didn't want to get into another marriage, he discovered you weren't an extremist believer. He had seen you reading some shitty literature like 50 Nuances of Grey or After and when he had told you those books were nothing more than rubbish, you had surprised him by telling him to shut up and read his annoying thriller books while you were enjoying Christian and Anastasia getting laid. 

It's probably that day when you were reading without any shame your erotic book exclusively written for women that he was quite sure, for his greatest disappointment, that Matty was right. To think it was just a stupid joke from his nemesis who had only said that to annoy him made David's desire to make the man lose some teeth bigger. 

Yet, he had decided to be patient with you and let you come to him. However, things were becoming hotter and hotter between you that night and you didn't say anything yet. Your breath caught in your throat when he asked you if you wanted to move into the bedroom. You nodded with anticipation. It wouldn't be the first time you were to sleep with him but it would be your first time. You had decided that when you arrived this morning with all your stuff. You had also made up your mind to keep the silence. David didn't need to know. He probably wouldn't notice it and you were sure you could manage the pain. 

So, when he kissed you avidly, you answered back with pizazz, claiming his lips as well as his hands were claiming your hips. David threw you in one swift motion over his shoulders, making you giggle. When his hand found your ass, you felt a fire setting ablaze your whole body. You were ready for him and even him could feel it.

He gently threw you over the bed, skimming your face just to be sure. He wasn't sure if he should tell you he had some suspicions about your virginity. After all, if he was wrong, he would have looked quite stupid. Instead, he leaned over you, reveling in the sensation both of you were igniting in each other. His hand found your ass again while you took off his shirt. He deftly did the same with yours with one hand while the other one was patting your butt. 

When his hand tickled your hips, passing through the waistband of your underwear, he felt you stiffen. He momentarily stopped, waiting for you to say something, but you did as if it was nothing more than a shiver due to the sheer passion between us.

David leaned on his forearms, imprisoning you with his tall frame. He looked you in the eyes, seeing nothing but love and a glint of excitement. He kissed softly your lips and the tip of your nose, caressing your cheek with the tip of his fingers in an attempt to ease you a little bit.

"I know," he whispered.

You looked up at him with confusion.

"What ?" you asked with a frown.

"I know," he simply repeated. 

He kissed you tenderly, whereas you tried to figure out what he could know, but he didn't let you muster up too much about it as he told you without telling you that he knew you were still a pure little thing but he would take care of you in every sense of the word.

"Don't be afraid. Relax. I promise you to be gentle, love."

You closed your eyes, a bit ashamed that his detective's gut had sorted out your secret case. 

"Hey, don't be embarrassed," said David while you blushed profusely/

"But it is so embarrassing," you muttered. 

"Why ?" he genuinely asked.

"Because I'm so old !" you answered quite dramatically. 

David laughed, telling you that he was ten years older than you and, if you saw yourself as old, then he definitively was a grandfather. 

"Do you see me as your grandfather here ?" he asked, a bit concerned after his little joke. 

"Absolutely no, David ! I see you as my partner. My lover."

"Good. Then, now that we are on the same wavelength, tell me why you are so embarrassed ? Did you plan to not let me know at all ? Because I would have noticed it you know."

"Really ?" you asked as if it was your plan from the beginning, "because I thought you wouldn't be able to fathom it in any way."

"Oh love, you're so innocent sometimes."

In fact, on that matter you were, but you didn't say anything, not wanting to put a damper on the intimacy of the moment.

"Is it a disappointment for you ?" you asked coyly.

"A disappointment ?" asked David while his nose was stroking yours.

"Yes, you know... I'm not really experienced here except for what I read..."

"Yes, and your books won't be of any help as you are not able to read something really good on that topic," he cut you off to tease you.

You let out a little chuckle, reassured to see him take the whole thing as if it was nothing to worry about. Actually, it was nothing to worry about. You were the one to make a big thing of nothing. 

"To be totally honest with you, [Y/N], I find it... arousing."

"Really ?"

"Oh yes, you're always full of surprises but this one is one of your best."

You sighed, the fear of what you thought could pushed him away leaving your mind. 

"We will take it slowly. I must prepare you correctly. I'm sure even in your shitty book they talk about that," he said with a predatory smile.

In one swift motion, he yanked down your panties, and almost immediately, his nose came against your little bundle of nerves. You almost let out a cry when you felt his tongue playing between your folds, trying to find a way towards your entrance.

"Don't hold back, love," said David, "I want to hear that pretty mouth of yours moaning under my touch and I promise you that at the end of it, you will be screaming my name."

Your body bristled at his words, the promise of what the night would bring you making you eager to get more of him. Spurred by the little noises you emitted, David worked harder to pleasure you. His hooked nose was pushing deliciously on your clit while his tongue was now dancing inside you. With two more strokes, you purred his name, your hand in his hair, in a vain attempt to ground you while you reached your climax.

"Oh, my god," you said, still high.

"No, it's just David here," he said playfully, licking his lips which were drenched with your wetness.

He told you how tasty he thought you were, making you blush more while he genuinely laughed, a feeling of exhilaration coursing through his body at the sight of you, all vulnerable and shy, accepting to be in this position for him and only for him. 

"I love you," he said without really thinking about it.

You looked at him with surprise. David was so reserved that you didn't even imagine he would be the first to say the words. But here it was, the words were reasoning through your head and as you saw a flicker of anguish in David's eyes to have let it slip his mouth, you kissed him with hunger before whispering against his lips how much you were in love with him too.

"I've been waiting for you for so long David. Believe me when I said you're the one."

It wasn't difficult to believe for the detective as you were on the verge of gifting him your virginity. David wasn't a backward person and little did he pay attention to such a trivial thing, yet, he couldn't prevent himself from feeling honoured. And with that, a feeling of pride and happiness was mingling in him. Pride to be your first one and, as he was ready to do all of what was in his power to keep you beside him until death decides otherwise, he thrived even more at the idea of being your last one. 

You shot him a confused glance when he got up, but smiled at his thoughtfulness when you saw him grab a condom. You didn't take the pill as it wasn't recommended for you and David wasn't sure if you had taken the time to make an appointment with your gynecologist to obtain another contraception. 

"You still want it ?" he asked after having taken off his pants and put on the condom.

"Yes, David."

"If you need me to stop or anything else, tell me ok ? I cannot guess, you have to communicate with me."

You nodded but he ordered you to answer him verbally. 

"I must hear the words [Y/N], always. Your comfort is what matters the most here."

"Yes, David. I will communicate with you. I promise.

He smirked, pecking sweetly your lips while placing his cock in front of your entrance. You felt the tip of his dick teased you, yet David wasn't moving. 

"Do you want to help me ?" he proposed to you.

He wanted to involve you in the whole thing, to make you feel at ease, to help you to relax as he could feel the tension growing, even though it was mixed with the remanence of your first orgasm and the terrific happiness you were experiencing. 

"Doing what ?" you asked with confusion.

Apparently, your books didn't teach you everything. David delicately took your hand to pose it on his shaft. He moved your hand back and forth around his length, smirking as if you didn't dare to press your fingers around it, probably in fear of hurting him. He pressed his own fingers around yours to stroke it thrice before feeling ready. He released your hand with a kiss on the back of it, then he placed himself between your legs, surveying your eyes to see any signs of discomfort while he was approaching slowly to your entrance.

"Are you still sure ?" he asked, his eyes darkened with desire.

He didn't know what he would do if you said no, but fortunately for him, you told him you wanted him inside you more than anything, and it was enough to let him enter you in one swift motion. You were so wet that it had been easy. He still for a moment, letting you the time to adjust to his cock. You were so tight that he wasn't sure he could last for long. 

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, relishing in the warmth of him inside you. When he began to move, you couldn't prevent a soft hiss to escape your lips.

"Are you alright, love ?" he enquired with trepidation.

"Yes... yes," you managed to stutter, "continue," you urged him.

You were in a little pain but you didn't want him to stop. You knew it would ebb away, and indeed, when David carefully removed, then pushed back himself inside you, you felt something new, something you didn't know was there. You moaned softly when he hit your sensitive spot and quickly, you moved your hips in pace with David, meeting him with each thrust. 

Your tight walls contracted around his shaft, making him moan against your neck while your nails scratched his back. 

"[Y/N]," groaned David in a husky tone.

He wouldn't last long, he knew it, yet he was desperate to make you come before him. He left a trail of kisses along your throat until your breasts, then he started to gently bite one of your nipples, making you cry of pleasure.

"David, don't stop please," you begged him.

"[Y/N]... [Y/N]... Haaa... [Y/N]..."

David released inside you with a loud groan, your inside clenching deliciously around him. Breathless, he moved off of you which made you hiss with a mixture of pain and disappointment at the emptiness inside your cunt.

David gave you a lingering kiss, praising you and how well you did. But soon, a doubt came up in his mind.

"[Y/N]," he said while you cuddled up into his arms, "did you come ?"

You hesitated but chose not to lie to him.

"No," you admitted, "but I did the first time," you added quickly in a vain attempt to reassure him. 

"Sorry, love," he said genuinely, really contrite not to have been able to contain himself for a little bit more.  

"It's fine," you said with a sigh of contentment.

"Absolutely not !" he answered sharply, "I swear you would scream my name and you will !"

And with that, as if he was appointed with the highest mission, he hovered above you, kissing your face all over while his thumb found your clit. He delicately circled your little bud while his first finger aptly entered into you, making you moan. He added his middle finger, his thumb still stroking your clitoris and his mouth now sucking one of your nipples, then the other one. 

He scissored you with his fingers, careful to not hurt you after having been inside you. He didn't escape his sharp eyes that you had bled a little bit and again, the simple thought filled his ego with a sort of pride to having claimed you as his. 

Everything was new for both of you. You were discovering the pleasure of the flesh while David was learning how to please you in a new way. It was the first time he dealt with a virgin. Even his wife wasn't one when he started dating her. Therefore, besides being patient and thoughtful with you, he had to discover what excited you, what were your sensitive spots and how to finish you.

He remembered the lovely sound you made when his cock had hit a peculiar point while your inside rippled around him and he tried to find it again. He didn't have to try too hard before you moaned as you did before. 

"Faster... David, please, faster," you managed to say, your eyes closed.

"Open your eyes," he ordered you, "I want to see you when you come."

"David," you moaned again, obeying him.

His hazel eyes dived into your green one, his mouth working hard to leave some bruises on your neck, his fingers thrusting your inside faster, his thumb still playing with your bud of flesh.

"David," you said again, arching your back to push your hips towards his fingers.

"Yes love, let it go," he encouraged you, feeling you were almost done.

You unconsciously slid a tad to the side, permitting him to hit more easily that sensitive spot of yours and, with a more powerful thrust of his two fingers against it, you finally came hard around his fingers.

"DAVID !" you cried out loudly.

A smug on his face, David removed his fingers to hold you tightly against his chest while you slowly came down from your high.

He gently kissed your forehead, looking at you with love.

"How do you feel ?" he asked.

"I'm happy," you answered.

He smiled widely, a smile that no one before had witnessed on his face. 

"Are you sore ?" he asked with concern after he had finished to relish in the afterglow of your encounter. 

When no answer came from you, he looked down and his features softened at the sight of you asleep in his arms. He felt an urge of love, stronger than before, knowing that you felt safe enough to abandon yourself to him in the sheer of a passionate encounter and then to fall soundly asleep between his strong arms. 

With precautions, he moved you to let you lay comfortably against the cushions. He kissed a lingering kiss on your forehead before getting up to go in the bathroom. He cleaned himself with a wet towel, then he came back to you with another one and with precaution, he washed away your cum which had mingled with a bit of blood. 

"I fell asleep," you almost apologised.

"Indeed," David said with a chuckle, "sorry to have awoken you, but I thought you would be more comfortable if I cleaned you."

You gave him a shy smile, aware that as if to prove you hadn't deceived him, you had tainted his white sheets. 

"Do not worry about that," said David following your embarrassed gaze, "I don't care at all."

You smiled more confidently, relishing in the feeling of his callous hands taking care of your pained body.

"Are you hurt ?" asked David who felt you shiver against his touch when he inadvertently brushed the back of his hand against your swelled pussy.

"Yes. But in a good way, so to speak," you reassured him.

"Do you want us to take a hot bath ?"

"No. I just want to stay in your arms. I'm going to fall asleep again," you admitted.

You didn't have to ask twice for him to lay beside you. He pulled you against him, holding you firmly against his chest.

"Thank you, [Y/N]," he whispered against your hair.

"For what ?" you asked sleepily.

"For trusting me. For accepting me entirely. For being mine." 

You looked up at him from your spot, and your hand cupped his cheek. You brushed his light stubble before you straightened up to kiss him. 

"I love you, David."

You leaned back, your head against his chest and his heartbeat lulled you away. David, who suffered from insomnia, stayed awake a little bit longer, taking pleasure to have your sleepy form in his arms. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt more alive than ever. It's been a long time since he had something to lose in his life, but he knew it was what made life more beautiful. And you, definitely, were the most beautiful thing life could have offered to him. 

[sugar-phoenix]

I think I'll take my noodles spicy

synopsis: You stop by Jiaoqiu's stall to try his noodles. They are very. Spicy. tags: jiaoqiu x reader, gn!reader, written before Jiaoqiu's release a/n: I think the reader is clearly a masochist. Also I don't know why I added that undertone of loneliness for Jiaoqiu, I think it's very out of character for him, but I decided to have a little fun since he isn't out yet. 700 words!

ao3 link here!

On a summer afternoon in the Xianzhou, you decided to stop by a well-known noodle stall and order some noodles.

The Foxian man standing on the other side of the counter smiled as he slid the bowl of noodles over to you.

There was a flash -- something mischievous glinted in his eye -- and then it was gone. You had heard conflicting opinions from people about this man. Half of them told you to stay away from him, and the other half said he was a miracle worker, if a little unorthodox.

Jiaoqiu was a healer, and you weren't sick, but you did want to try his renowned cooking.

The bowl of noodles smelled delicious as the steam wafted up towards you, and you happily picked up a few strands with your chopstick and deposited them into a deep spoon filled with broth, before slurping the entire spoonful. You could see his ears flick a little as he watched you intently.

He certainly was as handsome as the women claimed he was. It seemed that everything he did, he did it with that soft yet strange smile on his face.

 It didn't hit at first. But then you felt heat crackle at the back of your throat, burning you from the inside. Tears sprang to your eyes, and you coughed, covering your mouth with your sleeve.

"How do you like it?" Jiaoqiu asked, still with that smile on his face, which, in this moment of deep betrayal, you realized to be anything but sweet.

"It's a little--" you coughed, choking on the "--spicy."

 "Just the way it's meant to be enjoyed," he said, his tail swaying from side to side behind him. Despite the burning heat, the noodles were very good, and you watched yourself in horror as you raised some more rice noodles to your mouth (you avoided drinking any more of the broth to reduce the pain).

"It's a little mix that I made myself. I find that a good hit of spice will clear your sinuses and flush your system." Jiaoqiu continued.

 "You don't say," you half-said, half-cried as tears streamed down your face.

"Yes, I believe in the power of spice to ail the sick," Jiaoqiu said, passing a box of tissues. You gladly took one, blowing your nose. The spiciness was numbing your lips, and you panted in an attempt to cool your mouth, which felt as though it was set aflame.

It was clear now, despite his good looks, why you often saw him alone. His cooking probably scared off anyone who was initially interested in him. You continued to eat the noodles, slurping them up despite the fact that each time you did so a part of you caught fire and died inside.

 It was so spicy. And yet, so good.

And Jiaoqiu watched you intently the entire time, lazily resting on his hand through lidded eyes and slit pupils, like a hunter watching his prey flail in vain in his trap. It wasn't just your mouth, but his attention was setting your skin on fire.

Finally, you finished the bowl of noodles, pushing it in front of you. It felt as though you were breathing steam, and you mostly felt glad that it was all over.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" Jiaoqiu asked, smiling innocently as though he'd done nothing wrong.

"Y-yes," you said. Despite the torture you just went through, the flavor of the noodles was unlike any other. Jiaoqiu was deserving of his status as a famous cook.

"Here," he said, rising from the counter and moving to the back, "have some chilled Puffergoat milk. It'll help with the burning." You graciously accepted the ice-cold jar of thick milk, and gulped it down, sighing with relief as it washed away all the heat and pain from before. You set it down with a satisfied hum.

"I hope you'll come by to visit my stall again," Jiaoqiu said, rising. There was a hint of deflation, as though he were sad to be left alone again.

"Another, please," you said. He whirled around, ears perked up in surprise.

"What was that?" he asked.

 "I'll have another bowl of noodles," you said, grinning.

 "Really? I thought the first put you through quite some duress," he said.

"Well, so long as I keep drinking this throughout," you said, gesturing to the jar of milk at your side, "I can continue to enjoy your beautiful cooking."

Jiaoqiu blinked, then smiled, turning towards his pot and reaching for the ladle. As he scooped more soup into a bowl for you, you watched as his tail swayed from side to side.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

dividers by @cafekitsune

[lychniis]

❝ i know who i am when i'm alone, i'm something else when i see you. you don't understand, you should never know, how easy you are to need. ❞

HOZIER , IT WILL COME BACK

WELCOME TO ATTAR

the perfumery shall open shortly. please register here [ taglist ], to book an appointment. CLICK HERE TO VIEW UPDATES.

fandoms : genshin impact, honkai star rail

i. WITH THE COMING OF OCTOBER, it's time to set forth kinktober '23! i really appreciate the amount of support i have received from you guys over the past year spent in this blog and i've decided to dip my toes into posting some mature content alongside my usual sfw works!

ii. LET MONSTERS AND HORROR serve our theme, where i hope to entice you with smut ( that has too much plot *shivers in qinxing in the mountain* ), all presented with an array of perfumes to chose from. many thanks to @crystalflygeo for prompt ideas kjhgvbhnj.

iii. PLEASE NOTE THAT THE SCHEDULE IS NOT A FIXED DATE. due to my own projects and college hounding me, the fics will be posted at my own time, though i will endeavor to try and keep them within the constraints of october. they might end up far longer than i would have originally intended.

COMING SOON ON OCTOBER

( note ) : the content linked below is unsuitable for minors. by clicking 'view more', you are verifying yourself as a consenting adult. if you are not of consenting age, then please dni with this post.

SCENT ONE : ( GARDENIA ) ❝ ARARE LITUS ❞ feat. neuvillette.

people round the port have gone missing in the recent weeks, their bodies found by the beaches, clearly having drowned to their miserable ends. neuvillette questions the motives of the person behind it, till he notices the presence of an inquisitive oceanfolk beneath the waters.

⚠︎ CW : mermaid ! reader, dragon ! neuvillete, mentioned murder, reader being very naïve in terms of how humans work, angst / hurt / comfort, fluff domesticity, give these guys a hug, canon compliant, first time, lingerie, temperature play, gentle sex, mutual masturbation, body worship, overstimulation.

SCENT TWO : ( PEONY ) ❝ RARA AVIS IN TERRUS ❞ feat. zhongli.

the world was a dangerous place, for one like you. as the hunters draw close, you seek refuge in a dragon's lair, hoping to find a way to live. the dragon in question lingers close and tolerates your presence. you wonder when he'd demand for more. birds, after all, were so easily torn apart by claws and fangs.

⚠︎ CW : bird hybrid ! reader, dragon ! zhongli, monsterfucking, trafficking and hunting, reader had a pretty rough past prior to this, angst / hurt / comfort, fluff, some attempts at world building, canon divergent / au, mating cycles / heat, breeding kink, orgasm denial, size kink, biting / scratching, bondage, sensory deprivation.

SCENT THREE : ( ORCHID ) ❝ TANQUAM EX UNGUE LEONEM ❞ feat. jing yuan

you try to live your life the best you can. you try to be a good person despite the world wearing you down. however, upon stumbling into abcast away angel with liquid madness running through his veins, the loneliness your four walls bring is replaced with something else. meanwhile jing yuan learns of human fragility and how simple it is, for memories to fade away.

⚠︎ CW : canon divergent, angel ! jing yuan, mara plays a part here, talks about mortality and existentialism, reader is terrified and touchstarved, angst and tragedy, bittersweet ending i suppose, sacrifices, face sitting, electrostimulation, strip tease, mirror sex, praise kink, blindfolds, dom / sub.

SCENT FOUR : ( HYDRANGEA ) ❝ ABYSSUS ABYSSUM INVOCAT ❞ feat. childe

you needed to run, run far away lest the monster beneath your bed devours you whole. childe, however, keeps the chase, for he hungers. he was a charming man, that you could agree with; but the demon he hides away scares you and his undying loyalty to the tsaritsa shall be your undoing.

⚠︎ CW : canon compliant, slight foul legacy ! childe, angst and betrayal, bittersweet ending, reader and childe are childhood friends, making a choice, self sacrifice, breath play, masochism, bruises, predator / prey, against a wall, rough sex, dry humping.

taglist — @silentmoths @crystalflygeo @moraxsthrone @hiraethsdesires @dustofthedailylife @celestewritestoomuch @genshinboys @kaelily @ofoceansandtombsanew

AINE | 2023. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[forestwitchontheroad]

Billford Analysis!

Chapter three: Ford and the consequences of betrayal, or a saw-style romcom.

chapter one

chapter two

so, now let's move on to the consequences of betrayal. at first glance, Bill's rage and Ford's suffering carried nothing more than a tsunami of unrestrained emotions, but even here you can find little things indicating changes in Bill's manipulative tactics and their impact on Ford.

James and Bobby's song "I'm your puppet" shows how Ford began to subconsciously see his relationship with Bill as just a blind devotion in which he was a puppet on strings and did everything Cipher said. perhaps in the very last moments before the betrayal, Ford was already questioning his dependence on Bill when the launch of the portal was so close, and this event definitely worried him.

after the betrayal, Ford feels humiliation and horror, but the first one seems to be more. logically, he should be worried about the end of the world, but mentally he is worried that he was so taken advantage of - personal emotions burn much more than spatial worries about the fate of the world.

this resentment hitting the solar plexus is expressed in small things. Ford starts calling Bill by his last name, with a bitterness that feels like a fresh wound after justified doubts.

but despite everything, he calls the drawings of the portal a “gift to humanity,” as if not wanting to deny Bill's contribution and the fact that everything had an exclusively selfish motive. as if not wanting to believe that everything was just a long-term deception.

therefore, even the physical pain of bloody knuckles does not compare with the desire to take revenge and hurt Bill in return.

therefore, during the battle with zombies, Ford hesitates after Bill's speech, not only for the noisy effect of shooting at him, but also because Bill may not be a very talented master of manipulation, but even this works for Ford in the form of pressure on the same fresh and untreated wound of loneliness for many years, and also, it seems, pride, starving to any praise, which stands in place of non-existent low self-esteem.

the skirmish in the form of sticky notes only shows that Ford internally, in moments of weakness, reproaches Bill, as if their quarrel is something familiar and frivolous, which shows his purely emotional hope to return what did not happen - a close, inspiring and sublime friendship-falling in love.

after the snake appears, Ford decides to play Bill's tactics and psychologically torment him in the same way, which is why he runs into one of the examples of Cipher's cruel gestures - he finds himself on the roof of his house, blue from hyperthermia and shivering from the cold.

this gesture, as it was said in his Journal, for Ford shows that he is only Bill's toy and that he remains in his power. despite everything, their relationship changed only in Ford's head to a friendly one on the same level - in reality, Ford remained Bill's follower, his physical and intellectual property.

and the way Bill used Ford's body, recorded a tape for him, scattered polaroid photographs on the floor, created a complete physical environment from their meeting place in dreamscape - tea, chess, music, carried such significance for Ford - nothing will change, but now their mental games have become a reality.

For Ford, all these actions are the real essence of Bill, which has been hidden all this time. every psychological torture, every mockery of his body is his true essence. there is a contradiction in Pines' head that drives him more and more crazy, and recent memories from the past are more painful.

and also, a minor detail - Ford had previously refused to beat the tattoo, that is, to admit that he was Bill's property, so Bill himself marked Ford's body with the tattoo from a crazy night if out of spite getting his toy back. there is obviously a noticeable discrepancy in how the personal perception of their previously progressing relationship proceeded differently.

the last straw was the call to Stanley when Bill's idea failed and was met with hatred, human bright rage, and tearful bitterness on Ford's part.

and this was the last straw for Bill's patience, who tried to threaten Ford with average psychological and physical tortures on the level of a demon. still, so inopportunely, Ford caused too many unnecessary, unfamiliar emotions for Bill, and he snapped.

the physical torture of turning out bones, deleting memories in Ford's head, endless bullying, attempts to put Ford in his place - all this, of course, led Ford into endless horror and pain, which can't be fully discussed.

and here, we need to understand that it is obvious to us as a viewer that Bill broke down and released his raging emotions since he was originally mortal and left this part of himself. however, Ford began at that moment to perceive Bill, as he had the first time, as a divine but tormenting being, like the devil, who torments only because it is how it is created.

in conclusion, we can say that this whole epic after the betrayal crushed any memories and emotions in Ford regarding the fact that Bill was his friend on equal terms, rather than a divine being of knowledge.

bitterness and resentment, however, emotions are not eternal, they have disappeared almost without a trace in thirty years, but at the same time they mutually destroyed something very fragile, delicate and small in an insecure, socially awkward Stanford - the ability to feel romantic or platonic love (choose whatever you like more) to Bill.

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

Siamese dream.

Quick summary: Rust observes you.

Word count: 936 words

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Quick drabble! Written as an exercise to get me ready for a longer story, maybe a second part to that first smut fic.

***

Considering the magnitude of existence, he didn’t technically have time for you. 

Rust was good at his job, and it was worthwhile – these were the two things that he told himself when the spiralling tide of loneliness threatened his way of life, the two things that he would tell another if ever prompted. Man’s propensity to violence was so prominent and intimidating that he had long reasoned that the most efficient way to live, to continue (at least outwardly) as a functional member of society, was to accept that evil existed. With this, of course, came its partner: punishment was required, deserved. If Rust had to live, he would be worthwhile, be productive, deliver this. He would not look away. 

He was an extraordinary machine, quick of tongue and sharp of wit. If he viewed himself as such, his day-to-day would not have to bear the burden of attachment, the thing with teeth and claws, the root of all great wars, sustenance to the crimes of passion for which he was condemnation. 

You were not welcome in his thoughts.

Sure, he had a wiring for people-watching, for assessing and contemplating their movements and likeness for some kind of mental filing system – he knew this. Within the first moments of becoming acquainted with Marty, his robust, heavy handshake, swaggering stride and gap-toothed grin had told Rust all he needed to know about his new partner. He enjoyed it, he thought – not in the instant action, but rather the satisfaction of watching an individual act exactly how he’d expected them to. It brought some aspect of calm into Rust’s life, made it easier to talk, to blink, to breathe. Not peace, exactly. Predictability. Science. 

He had seen you before and therefore was not disarmed by the practiced smile that had greeted him for the first time, nor the way its gladness seemed to seep right into your tone. He figured that you were easy to laughter, to friends. For a moment, with both your two hands still tenderly enveloping his one, which was rigid and itching to recoil to his own self, he briefly considered adopting these qualities. Rust had accepted his nature and did not particularly care to re-evaluate what was so hopeless and stubborn—but your warmth had elicited a guilt he rarely felt. This guilt usually only resurfaced when he was around small children, untouched by the horrors of humanity. He felt like a corruption, like the rot in his bones might be contagious as well as parasitic.

You were no use to his work. Consequently, you were no use to him. He did not need nor want you in his life. Before long, the agitation in response to what he could only assume were attempts at friendship—a miraculous mug of black coffee ritualistically at the edge of his desk every Monday and Friday—had to have subsided into rationality, revealing him to the conclusion that you were lonely. 

An awful thing the brain can be, really. The miraculous organ, conscious of consciousness: the self’s most potent deception, its most invisible betrayal. 

Rust knew he was not good for other people. He barely considered himself to be a person. He accepted carefully measured amounts of exposure to satisfy the human’s reptilian desire for connection: this was safest when by proxy. He could spare himself and those around him the difficulty of introspection, which seemed inevitable in all relations, by simply observing. 

You were so desperate to connect. He could feel it radiating from you, almost tangible, in gentle, glowing waves. Then again, you would never speak unless spoken to. To begin with, he attributed this phenomenon to introversion. Then, perhaps it was due to femininity: there was a heightened perception, he found, in Louisiana for a wife, a mother, a daughter, a whore, to accept any and all treatment from men, as it was well-meant or well-deserved. He overheard Geraci say something about how well you had accustomed to the transfer from Brooklyn. “Nothin’ like Cohle.”

It'd bother him some: to feel you looking at him; when Marty would mention you in passing; when his body would tense in unfamiliar hesitation when he would glimpse your colours through the slits in the files room units. Apparently, you were funny. He agreed – there were times when he would overhear a sly remark or smartass retort and huff to himself in amusement, protected by his and your turned backs. He knew you could work someone well: you near always exited the box victorious. If you weren’t—victorious, that is—you were solemn, quiet, cagey. You always went back for what you needed, sometimes more. In his own way, he knew you. He was grateful that he had never looked at you or spoken to you long enough for you to know him. 

People who considered themselves perceptive usually thought they could crack Rust, turn him inside out, read him. They tried to hold his eyes, tried to make him uncomfortable to prove their lazy, shallow, unoriginal theory that he was shy, that he was misunderstood. What a surprise for them, then, when he would push back with a flat stare, unblinking, inexorable. 

He thought it entirely viable for you to do the same. He almost hoped you would, bitter, hoping for the opportunity to win against you, to destabilise the perception you had of yourself – that was the parasite talking. He almost hoped that you might be arrogant underneath, so that he could dislike you as he disliked most at the precinct. He waited for you to approach him.

But you didn’t. You just left coffee on his desk, which he always drank.

[eldritchneuro]

My writing

Getting into Trigun has really got my creative juices flowing, so I figured I’d make a masterpost for the stuff I’ve made. If you like what I do, consider also dropping by my Ko-fi!

Starter packs

Media analysis starter pack

Videos

‘We will rock you but every clap is overlaid with Nicholas D Wolfwood getting hit by a truck’ (shitpost)

Fanfic:

Plant biology 101 - A short piece going over a specific headcannon of mine

Investigator Nico D Wolfwood - A comedy fic on what happens when you mix devout Catholicism, undiagnosed mental illness and the ingenuity of your average 8-year old

Long drives on Gunsmoke - What to do when your local demi-god starts dissociating in the back seat of your car

The prince and the hound - Vash and Wolfwood being survivors and in love

Exorcism of the heart - Even more truma boys in love

To glide on clipped wings - Get couched, idiot

REBIR7H - Body horror, relationships and loneliness

Meta:

Stampede:

How Rem and Nai are introduced

Can I get a ‘fuck you Knives’

Nai evil-laughing

Millions Knives in a nutshell

Knives is a keyboard warrior (thread)

Some casual human nastiness

Tesla’s eye in Vash’s gun

That one intro sequence from the start of episode 3

Audience positioning is hard, here's a drunk guy

Vash, Wolfwood, intimacy and gender (thread)

Zazie being sus

Wolfwood and Monev the Gale

Flashbacks

Vash's anger

Wolfwood’s age in Stampede

Wolfwood paralleling Knives (see tags)

Meryl and inhumanity

The designs of the plants

Frame within a frame

Knives is a hypocrite

Rapid-cuts

Knives being an abuser (thread)

'That includes you'

Elendria's weirdgirl energy

Vash’s insecurity

Perfection

Dead childhoods

To live or to die

Dual geraniums

The ascension of Million Knives

Trimax

Wolfwood’s last betrayal

#Trigunbookclub 2024 posts

Multiple canons

Knives only ever takes one side

Vashwood and gender (thread)

To be alive

Silly stuff

Wolfwood's weird expertise

[wolfs-wake]

So re-watching the entirety of dungeon meshi and the main thing I can say is....

NEW HORROR FLAVOR JUST DROPPED GUYS WELCOME TO AUTISTIC HORROR (/hj)

This is mainly referring to the scene with Laios and Shuro.

Throughout the story it's very clear to anyone who's experienced or knows about the autistic experience that Laios is autistic. All the characters are representative of different parts of the autism spectrum but Laios is clearly shown more than others.

Even Falin experiences it in the flash back.

The exact horror is the horror of exclusion, discrimination, and social cues for lack of a better word.

Where if you differ from the expectation based on how your very brain and being works, then you're set for failure in the eyes of the nerotypical. This can be seen with Falin at magic school due to her different mindset and even her upbringing. The only friend she has is Marcille who wanted to know her technique and even she judged her at first.

It's something every nerodivergent person has experienced in school, the knowing and experience of being seen as 'other' by your peers for your comforts and your behavior.

Laios is well Laios and his lack of understanding of social cues and dynamics show a different point of it. The horror of misunderstanding. He believed so deeply that Shuro was his friend because why wouldn't he, why would someone spend time with him, risk their life with him if they weren't his friend. Just for it to reveal he was hated, because of things out of his control.

There's no real way I can put the exact feeling of that experience into words if someone didn't experience it themselves on a personal level. I have, I was diagnosed with autism when I was 3, one of the earliest ages to diagnose at the time. I was lucky enough to know the name for what was going on with my brain, but that's where the comfort stopped. The betrayal and the eventual knowledge of others hatred towards you is crushing, it's something I wouldn't wish on my own enemies. Even further it's the fear of being an outsider, wanting a connection so desperately but having to except it will never happen.

That is autistic horror, that no matter what you do, how you change or mask it will still happen and the only time you might get that connection is from other autistic people and even then it's never guaranteed. It's to the point of connecting to the monstrous and non human because other than autistic people those are the only things you can connect to. It's lonely and devastating knowing that one of the only things that can comfort you is what society might deem as even demonic because in a sense you know that you two are also demonic. It's why Laios shows interest and openly wishes to be a monster. I wish to be a monster I know many other autistic people with the same wish because we're lonely and there's no other means to connect than to accept that in a society of neurotypical people, we are the monsters they tell stories about.

That's it, that's autistic horror. It's the outcast, the loneliness, the desperation, it's the need and denial for connection.

Dungeon meshi does a good job, too good of a job showing that. Dungeon meshi shows the psychological horror of being autistic and thus shunned from all others.

That scene with Laios and Shuro made me almost cry, it made me crack because it's the exact thing I experienced my entire life and it's horrifying.

There's the edition of otherkinity and the other kin experience that I could easily tie in here but honestly that's for a different mini essay.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! I just finished an amazing fic where the boys had broken up but got back together in the end and I wondered if you had any lists of this sort? 🌺

Hi Lovely!!

You know, I get asked this a lot so I FINALLY SAT DOWN and compiled all the fics I have on various lists relating to this! So this list is a mix of the ones I remember on my bookmarks, and the ones suggested to me in past posts!!! Hope you'll enjoy this list!! :D

SEPARATION THEN RECONCILIATION FICS

See also:

Reunion and Other Post TRF Fics

Reunion and Other Post TRF Fics Pt. 2

Reunion and Other Post-TRF Fics Pt. 3

John Finds Out About Hiatus

John Joins Sherlock During Hiatus

Sherlock Returns from Hiatus Injured 

Serbia / Aftermath of Hiatus Fics

The Empty Hearse-Related Fics

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

The Homecoming Series by sussexbound (M, 51,744 w. across 12 stories, WIP || Domestics, PTSD, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling, Jealousy, Family Issues) – Sometimes home is all you need. After three years of horror, betrayals, and crushing loss, John and Sherlock find their way back home to one another, and together find new footing in a world that has changed forever.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

MARKED FOR LATER / WiPs

The Walking Man by suitesamba (T, 2,200 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, Fluff and Angst, Sussex) – When it was all over, when the east wind had blown through and they picked themselves off the pavement, Sherlock said enough. Eighteen years later, the real journey begins.

The Tarmac by Calais_Reno (T, 5,662 w., 1 Ch. || HLV / Tarmac Scene, Separations, Angst, Pining, Love Confessions, Reunions, True Love) – There are things that need to be said.

Solstice by Calais_Reno (T, 6,875 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, POV Sherlock, Winter Solstice, Separations, Lost Love, Eventual Happy Ending) – It feels like the onset of winter, so gradual that you wake up one day and see ice decorating the windows and wonder when it suddenly became so cold... He lost John slowly, without either of them deciding that’s what would happen. The way to come back together must be so gradual that it’s almost imperceptible. Part 12 of Just Johnlock

Unsettled by suitesamba (M, 7,879 w., 3 Ch. || Pining, Angst, Jealousy, Retirement) – Recently-widowed John takes a look at his life and finds it lacking. It's been twenty years since Sherlock returned from the dead, but he's never stopped thinking things should have turned out very differently. Sherlock has been living in Sussex for five years now, but it takes the news that he has a new partner in crime to get John out of London. A tale of pining, and jealousy, jumping to the wrong conclusion, and old men in love.

Always a Neverland by suitesamba (M, 11,375 w., 1 Ch. || Post TRF, Drug Use) – John is living a quiet life at 221B with his son when Sherlock Holmes, dead and gone ten years, appears at his door. There’s an excellent reason he’s been gone, and several very good ones for taking him back, but the best one of all is Will, who falls in love with Sherlock as surely as John once did.

Where You Hang Your Heart by suitesamba (M, 13,524, 2 Ch. || Post S4/S4 is Canon, Angst, Sussex, Injury, Aging, First Kiss) – When it was all over, when the east wind had blown through and they’d picked themselves off the pavement, Sherlock said enough. When it was all over, when Mary was dead and Rosie didn’t have enough family left for John to risk even an adrenaline high, John watched Sherlock go. Eighteen years later, the real journey begins.

When All is Said and Done by sussexbound (E, 19,570 w., 3 Ch. || Post T6T, John’s Letter, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Hand / Blow Jobs, Make-Up Sex, Frottage, Inconvenient Erections, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Implied / Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Light Bondage, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Sherlock sits down on the bench in the middle of the pod and fishes around in the pocket of his coat for the cigarettes he keeps there. There’s a decal on the window that says ‘no smoking’ of course, but… “Do you mind if I smoke?” He sees the sound of his voice register in the man’s body like a bolt of lightning.

The Golden Cottage by AlessNox (T, 20,201 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3, Injury, Cabin, Composing, Sherlock's Violin, Love, Friendship, Hope, Platonic Life Partners, Music) – In a golden cottage deep in the English countryside a man comes to visit and to ask what went wrong with a friendship that once seemed so bright.

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Misfortune by  Sherlockwatsonholmesblog (M, 20,455+ w., 4/7 Ch || Post TLD, Five Stages of Grief, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Implied / Referenced Suicide, Self Hatred, Slow Burn, Emotional Trauma, Recovery) – There seems to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance, for they have loved each other immensely. However, Some Days, love isn’t enough. Sherlock and John persevering, as always.

Something Like Love by Calais_Reno (M, 28,553 w., 7 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Pre & Post TRF, Canadian John, Victor Trevor, Texting, Hotel Sex, One Night Stands, Guilty Pleasures, Angst with Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, POV Alternating, Separations, Infidelity) – A year after a one-night encounter in a hotel in Germany, Sherlock texts Watson.

We'll Meet Again by isitandwonder (E, 29,306 w., 7 Ch. || 1940′s WWII AU || Semi-Public Sex, Blow / Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Love Letters, Prolonged Separation, Implied/Referenced Rape, Epistolary, War Crimes, Infidelity, Reunion Sex, Magical Realism, Ghosts, Suicide, Sad with Happy Ending) – London during WW II: Doctor John Watson has a hot, anonymous brief encounter with a beautiful stranger during blackout. But they get interrupted. Will they ever meet again? Bittersweet Johnlock WWII AU with a twist to the present day in the end.

This Time No (Forgiveness) by AtlinMerrick (E, 29,464 w., 2 Ch.|| Angst, Redemption) –  It was Sherlock's fault. It usually is. And though he'll ask forgiveness for what he's done, for the very first time John will say, 'This time no, Sherlock. This time, never.' And maybe, just maybe, John Watson is going to mean it. [TRANSLATIONS: Русский]

If Equal Affection Cannot Be by blueink3 (E, 31,156 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Family, Retirement, Grown Up Rosie, Angst, Reunion, Loneliness, Sussex, Fluff, Sexy Times, Happy Ending) – Sherlock fled London a couple of years after John left him in hospital with nothing but an old walking stick and a half-hearted goodbye. Rosie grew up thinking that Sherlock died when he committed suicide in front of her father by jumping from Barts' roof. So it's somewhat awkward when they run into each other in a Sussex general store between the loaves of bread and the Mars bars...

Little Contributions by DiscordantWords (T, 43,710+ w., 39/? Ch. || Ficlet Collection) – Rounding up my Tumblr ficlets and odds-and-ends to keep them all in one place. Some are Johnlock, some are gen, each one stands alone unless otherwise indicated. (Chapter 27: The One to Leave)

Borrowed Ghosts by DiscordantWords (M, 57,216 w., 10 Ch. || TLD Divergence / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Minor Lestrolly, Pining Sherlock, John’s a Mess, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Ghost Mary, Guilt, Forgiveness, Drinking, No Hug Scene) – In the aftermath of the Culverton Smith case, John spent one painfully stilted afternoon hanging out with Sherlock. He counted the minutes, finished his tea, and left for home without ever clearing the air between them.And once he'd left, he found it very hard to go back.

The Sweetness Makes the Smoke and Stings Worthwhile by  221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (M, 70,032 w., 31 Ch. || Historical 1920′s Unilock AU || Summer Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Inexperienced Sherlock, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drinking, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexual Tension, Hand/Blow Jobs, Dancing, Secret Relationship, Skinny Dipping, Angst with a Happy Ending, Closet Sex, Hotel Sex, Emotions, Falling in Love, Mutual Pining, Letters/Epistolary, Heartache, Minor Violence, Separations, Reunion Sex, Love Confessions, Victor & Mary in this Fic) – After nearly being expelled from university, Sherlock is banished home to Musgrave Hall for the summer. A friend introduces him to John Watson, a handsome medical student visiting the area. Sherlock and John find themselves drawn to each other, falling into a summer romance that may be as painful as it is sweet. Although they follow different paths, their feelings for each other still haunt them, their love finally coming full circle years later. For those concerned about Mary and Victor, they appear only briefly and as very background characters. My version of Mary is not modeled on the BBC version. She is more of an original character, if anything.

The Case of the Green Gown by splix (E, 209,261 w., 29 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Case Fic, First Time, Action/Adventure, Angst, Peril, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Slow Burn, Torture) – ...Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone. –– Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier

[jen-with-a-pen]

Hello! Welcome to my OFFICIAL Masterlist!

Here you'll find links to my written works and other odds and ends. I hope you find what you're looking for– and if not, feel free to drop in a prompt, some inspo, or an idea you think you'd like to see! My ask box is always open and I try to answer any and all messages as soon as possible.

If you don't like reading on Tumblr, don't worry! You can find most, if not all, of my works on my AO3!

Images edited/made by me! I do not own the art for the comics.

Please consider reblogging my work! Reblogging helps others to be able to enjoy mine and other writers' works! Help me help you help others and reblog <3

Spam liking my works will result in an automatic block!

Dirty Dishes

Bucky x F!Reader (CATWS/CACW time periods)

You and Bucky share an apartment in Bucharest. Some nights are fine, others are tough. Nights with storms are especially tough.

WARNINGS: Angst, Bucky having flashbacks, panic/anxiety attacks

18+ Impressions On the Inside of Your Thigh

Beefy!Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x F!RanchHand!Reader

Head Ranch Hand James "Bucky" Barnes has had a very, very long day. Only way to remedy it is to make you squeal.

WARNINGS: grinding, pet names/name-calling, making out, dirty talk, oral sex (f!receiving)

→ Fan Favorite on AO3!

18+ FOXHUNT

WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

Not only has HYDRA successfully executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

WARNINGS: being hunted, implied non-con elements, violence, cursing, blood, bruising, beating, passing out, forced nudity

18+ Chains Around My Feet

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader; established relationship/friendship and most of work is told out of Reader's POV.

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn't in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives– but what is rescue if not relief from the suffering?

PLEASE SEE POST FOR FULL LIST OF WARNINGS major warnings: graphics horror elements, blood + gore, whump, hurt and absolutely ZERO comfort, major character betrayal, major character death, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

18+ FILTHY, IMPETUOUS SOULS

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

Honeysuckle

Bucky x F!Reader

The adventures of one James "Bucky" Barnes and our reader, Honeysuckle, mixed with a lot of mutual pining, with some help from Sam 'Wingman' Wilson. No real story line, just a mix of one shots that might end up loosely connected one day.

WARNINGS: mutual pining, requited love, idiots in love, slow burn, tooth-rotting fluff, maybe a little angst, established friendship, yes this takes place in the Tower

This House Had Swing In It - Coming Soon/Being Rewritten

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL - Coming Soon

FALLEN STARS - Coming Soon

If You Go, I Go

CAFTA!Closeted!Pre-Serum!Steve x CAFTA!Closeted!Sergeant!Bucky Barnes

It's Bucky's last night before deployment. The evening does not go the way Steve, nor Bucky, thought it would.

WARNINGS: angst, loneliness, pining, closeted feelings, messing with canon

Dancing in the Kitchen

slightly possessive!Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Best Friend!F!Reader

Tony dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together again.

WARNINGS: fluff and angst, insecurities, verbal abuse and insults/language, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, emotions™

18+ ALL TIED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW)

Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?

general series warnings: frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear

18+ ALL WRAPPED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW) - COMING SOON

The Weight

Modern!Avengers!Stucky

Steve betrays Bucky in the worst way possible.

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, emotional damage/hurt, no comfort, swearing, mentions/desc. of vomiting

Coming Soon

Reading Lists

This House | Honeysuckle | DHEB

Fic Recs | Spicy Fic Recs | Not My Masterlist

OMEGAVERSE

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL

Honeysuckle Vibes

Hurt/Comfort

This House Had Swing In It

This House: The Swing Collection

Tooth-Rotting Fluff

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

@/natrace's Stardust Reblog Challenge Masterlist

@/flordeamatista's Jardin de Poemas Challenge

@/targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge

WHUMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

[emilythescribbler]

Literary Tropes: Reincarnation

Lily had little time to think, for if she was to ensure her only son's survival in the wake of the tragedy which would befall their quiet home, in that quiet village in Godric's Hollow, she had to act, to move swiftly up those stairs, as her love, her husband, stayed behind to ward off the evil presence at their door. 

He was armed, not with a wand, but with his courage, and so he surely fell to the ground, with a loud thump which sought to both distract and horrorify the woman who had hastedly rushed to her infant son's bedroom, pausing only to allow the feeling of immense shock to wash over her, striking her with a force which almost knocked her off her feet, before she forced herself onwards. All her mind could think of, in that long, drawn-out moment between one second and the next, was Harry - her son, who looked so much like his father, who had her green eyes, remarked often that he'll break hearts when he is all grown up, much like James himself... and Peter, who she would have never expected to betray them, to betray his childhood friend, to kill those he fought beside, to join forces with those very wizards who sought domination over all. 

Tears flooded her eyes, but she forced herself on, closing her son's bedroom door, as he gazed up at her - an innocent, with an  unknowing expression upon his face, with little idea of the horrors which awaited them within the next few moments. 

Her love for her child knew no bounds, and Lily would risk even her own life to protect him, but she knew she had little way to prevent the tragedy which was sure to occur. Each second seemed to pass by with shocking pace, as if god himself were taunting the young witch, dangling escape or salvation from out of her grasp. She dried her eyes, cursed beneath her breath, as she racked her mind for anything, any solution to her problem, any spell to shield herself and her infant son, anything at all to protect them from the danger present.

Tom Riddle's footsteps grew ever closer. A thud here, a thud there against the decades old carpet lining the hallway floor, as an eerie green glow appeared on the other side of the pale blue bedroom door. Children's finger paintings and other decorative images, tacked upon the wooden frame were now coated in the signs of death and decay, as Lily held her son close to her, shielding his small, fragile body from harm.

She sensed her time was near, but knew there could be a chance for them, for something, someone, somewhere, to appear once more, to live a new life far from betrayal, death and the threat of magic. It would be a long shot, there would be no guarantee it would even work, but she felt, as strongly as she felt the love for her child, who still looked upon her with little more than a son's love for his mother, not sensing the dangers posed to them, in that very moment, that she had to try.

She had been a bright student, as intelligent as any other her age at that mysterious school many, many miles away, and so she had often been found reading in the library, her nose always stuck in some book. She learned much during those solemn times, particularly in her later years at the school, for she had found herself overcome with a sense of loneliness only resolved once she had finally, after six long years, gained the courage to befriend those Gryffindors who always seemed as though they had everything, and could always depend upon each other. She had wanted that, had longed for it for so long, but it was a slow process of trust to build, after Severus had torn it down, had pulled that budding flower out - root and stem. 

Spells abound could be found within those leather bound pages and, she had to admit, she had found herself in that forbidden section of the library more than once, when her curiousity got the better of her. She recalled a spell she had found particularly fascinating, which suggested that, for those who faced death, with no option to retreat or escape, they could cast such a spell to allow their spirits, their hearts, their will to re-emerge as another, to come reincarnated entirely. An surprisingly simple spell, but her only true option as she wondered, if it were to work, what would become of her family, of  herself, in this unknown future. 

Power built up on the other side of the door, she only had a few seconds to spare, but for a skilled witch such as Lily Evans Potter, that would be all she would need. She set her son down for a moment, planting a final kiss to the top of his head, embracing that familiar smell all babies seemed to carry for a moment longer, before she turned back to face her opponent. She drew her wand, taking in a deep breath as she cast a orb of bright blue light upon herself and her son. She could never know if her husband's lifeless body also carried the same glow, all she could do was hope the spell worked as well as she had read, as she forced her hands to be still for those final words to speak into the ether. 

In regeneratione, reincarnationes, restituo.

As she uttered those words, in no more than a whisper as she heard the gurgled laughs of her son nearby, as the orbs which enveloped her family shrunk in a flash, shrinking inside their bodies, before bursting in a brief burst of sparkles and light, the door before her burst open also, taking her by surprise by the full force of the blast. Harry's door hung loosely off it's hinges, she heard him begin to cry as she wished to rush to him, to flee the scene before anyone else could die, but that was not meant to be. 

She only had moment to look upon the face of her killer, before green light appeared before her then, the last thing she saw before darkness overcame her. She thought to herself that she had failed, that her efforts were all for naught, until both herself and her husband recalled that sensation of waking, in the moment before realisation would overcome them, only it never truly did. Their son would find himself in that state of dreaming in the waking world all his life, particularly as he came to find himself more and more involved with, and a part of, the same magical world his mother had cursed long ago. And Ginny Weasley often found herself with this same feeling, this feeling with no name, and only when she found herself side by side with Harry James Potter did it become more and more apparent that the thing she seemed to feel was missing in her life was him. Lily and James lived on, and while she felt that her spell had failed, she never could have known that it was her love which shielded Harry from the very danger she feared, but also her love for her husband which allowed their will, their strength, their power, to live on, to carry itself into the next generation. 

Lily Evans Potter was an expectional witch, until the end.

[soulfireblue]

So here’s the thing— this isn’t Scar’s first time being alone. The difference this time is that it’s not a loneliness that he can blame on the others, as much as that would make it easier. It’s not even a loneliness that he’s at blame for— if the others knew it was his secret, telling him over and over again to be the villain, maybe they’d argue that he could just reroll, but then they’d all be hypocrites, because it’s become pretty well-established that the only time people reroll or fail is if they are physically incapable of their task, and. Well. Scar’s proven himself pretty capable of being a villain by now, hasn’t he?

But he can’t blame the others, either— he knows Mom offered him her home again, but he wasn’t allowed to take his place in it. And this time he’s the one running away from Grian, as much as he’d prefer to do otherwise. It took an external force to remove Scar from the cycle of chasing after him again and again, and it took that same external force for Grian to finally turn around and look at him. 

And Scott— he doesn’t want to think about the look on Scott’s face as he stood with Pearl. Scott was kind to him, when no one else was, when Scar wasn’t allowed to even be kind to himself. It shouldn’t feel like a treachery, because Scar was too alone to have anyone to betray. But turning on Scott feels more horrible and twisted and villainous than any murders he may or may not have committed.

But Pearl— Scar knows she knows how this feels, because she’s been here too. She’s been twisted into the villain before, and she knows the same loneliness he feels. But she’s alone again now, in a different way. Whatever promises she might have made her team are void now, because they’re gone, and she’s here with Scar. She could have chosen Gem, because they were friends, too, Gem screams, just like he could have gripped the handle of his sword and chosen Scott. It’s just the two of them together at the end of the world, and they’ve chosen each other.

In a kinder world, there would have been no sides to choose, no horror and betrayal in anyone’s eyes. There would have been no villains or heroes. In no world, though, would Scott choose Scar over Gem. In no world would Gem choose Pearl over Scott. So maybe it can’t be a betrayal, because if either of them chose their other ally, they’d be leaving the other alone. And they know too well what that feels like. So this is the way things have to be, even if Scar has to admit to himself that he’s only here because he was lucky enough to be standing next to Pearl when it really mattered.

In that other world, Gem is probably the winner, no matter what configuration it ends up with. Pearl and Gem and Scott against Scar, he loses immediately. Scar and Gem and Scott against Pearl, he lives long enough to see everyone turn on Pearl before Scott lets Gem kill him and they 1v1. Almost everything ends with a 1v1 against Gem, because Scott chooses Gem every time, even over himself. And Gem vs Scar, sword vs bow, Scar knows he would lose.

And if they all declare a truce and embrace old allies, it just becomes a repeat of stories already told— four people in four corners, rushing at each other, unless Scar embraces the villainy that’s been thrust on him and decides to repeat Martyn’s story instead. Scar’s too much of a storyteller for that to be satisfying.

So Scar changes the narrative. Scott gets to go out how he wants, how he always has, but Scar refuses to let Pearl do the same. “You may slay me and take the enchanter.” Maybe he’s been here before too.

And maybe now Gem’s the one who’s alone, because Pearl isn’t fighting for herself, and maybe that’s a little unfair, but she has the strength of Scott with her and maybe anything else would have been a little bit unfair too. Maybe things are always unfair, as much as they’d all like to convince themselves otherwise. Maybe there are no heroes after all, because no matter what happens, the cycle continues, and people choose each other, and people choose love, but in the end, there is no choice at all. 

And Pearl and Scar both understand this, both the choice and the lack of it. They understand what it’s like not to be chosen, and they’ve chosen each other in the last moments of this world. But in the end, it’s Scar’s narrative, not hers. It doesn’t end in an explosion of self-sacrificial TNT, but in a cactus ring and pulling punches.

And then it’s silent before Scar even gets the chance to contemplate what silence might be like. 

And Scar is standing there alone again, and he’s everything everyone has made him into, but he’s won. He’s finally loved, in a twisted kind of way, in the gaps between final breaths that let him look back and see that maybe even with everything that’s happened, maybe the love’s still been there all along. Amongst everyone else’s tragedy is his happy ending, because he finally gets to embrace that love. He’s the guy without friends, and he’s   made it to this point partly because of the people who see him and love him anyway, but he’s mostly made it all on his own. Maybe the difference between this and the other times he’s been on his own is that this time, he embraced it instead of continuing to chase after them. This time, he feels like they were instead the ones chasing after him, and he’d like to think that was purposeful on his part, a means of revenge, but it was not the role he would have chosen. But it’s the part he has played, and he has won.

He’s the villain they’ve turned him into, but he’s also himself. 

And he thinks maybe he’s okay.

[saintsenara]

hyped by the @hprecfest, because it's always nice to have an excuse to squeal about the amazing writing in this fandom. and the time i've spent reading it...

day one: favourite fics under 5k words

the ballad of judas iscariot by eldritcher severus snape/lord voldemort mature | 2.9k words

why i recommend it:

because it's the perfect characterisation of my ultimate otp - a brave, feral snape whose betrayal of voldemort [weighed down by the long shadow of catholic guilt, which is relatable of him...] actually means something - told in spare, beautiful prose:

it was unlikely that lucius could contribute any advice to my problem. i was planning to betray a madman who wanted to kill a newborn babe. that i happened to fiercely love said madman contributed complexity to the case.

beautiful enough for the both of us by dirgewithoutmusic lavender brown/parvati patil general | 2.2k words

why i recommend it:

because it's an exquisite demonstration of what love actually is - not the grand sacrifices to save the world which harry gets up to in canon, but the bittersweet tenderness of choosing each other despite everything.

lavender didn’t remember, because she never remembered– she didn’t recall the cellar door unlocking and opening after ten minutes of post-moonrise silence. she didn’t recall parvati wingardium leviosa-ing a comfy chair down the stairs, or her sitting down and pulling out a stack of witch weeklys, nor did she remember curling up on parvati’s fuzzy button slippers and going to sleep.

but she did remember waking up in the morning, her cheek pressed into a soft pillow. she was tattered under a thick blanket, but she was human and looking upward at parvati’s slack, sleeping face. her dark plaits tumbled, curling, over the soft pink polka dots of her pajamas.

mortal coil by mckay the bloody baron/severus snape teen | 3.6k words

why i recommend it:

because what life must be like for the hogwarts ghosts - year after year stretching out before them - is something i love seeing explored in fics, and this does a remarkable job of linking the monotony of the bloody baron's existence to the loneliness and grief of snape's own. plus, it is, in its own little way, a story of true love:

"why weren't you afraid of me?" he asked, gathering that boy in his arms. he really would have to remember to start using his name; he couldn't very well call him "that boy" for the rest of eternity.

"you know why."

"yes, i suppose i do."

for everything a season by @broomsticks marge dursley/dolores umbridge general | 300 words

why i recommend it:

because i love to see middle-aged butch representation:

summer had seen marge growl “i’m never getting married — ever —” and drop the top of her convertible and floor the accelerator. dolores, who’d always loathed quidditch, had thrown her face up to the scorching sun, let the wind whip through her hair.

in the arms of the ocean by writcraft sirius black/james potter mature | 2.1k words

why i recommend it:

because i love prongsfoot and its inherent tragedy, and the growing horror as you realise where this piece is going - even in so few words - is visceral:

even on a cold autumn morning, everything about james reminds me of summertime. he’s tanned, warm and restless. he uses shampoo which smells like coconuts. it reminds me of that time in brighton, when the pebbles were hot with sunshine and smooth and hard beneath our feet. we ran into the sea while the waves crashed over us. i pushed him, and he pushed me back until we were both laughing like we’d never stop, and his kisses tasted like ocean spray.

[raisedbythetv89]

THEY BOTH HAVE SMILES ON THEIR FACES AND LOOK SO AT PEACE WHILE CATCHING THEIR BREATH (buffy literally spike figuratively) BETWEEN PASSIONATE KISSES IM NOT OK 😭

They just had the gut wrenching horrors that was losing their memories with their minds violated by willow’s magic again only to gain back every single painful memory all at once crushed once again by grief, depression, loneliness, and pain and Buffy has just run after Spike after initially giving him the cold shoulder - snatching him into the kiss and kissing him like it’s her last night on earth and the first breather they take - foreheads and noses pressed together with soft smiles on their face.

These are the looks of 2 people who belong together and when they are together everything is right in their world. They feel safe, happy and at peace 😭🤚🏻 the mirrored hands on each other’s biceps - Buffy holding on for dear life with one hand on his face and his on her waist IM INSANE ABOUT THIS MOMENT.

Buffy has enough excuses/denial with Giles leaving and Willow’s betrayal to excuse her actions in this moment and because they haven’t slept together yet this is her most passionate we see her without self-hatred and judgment she projects onto spike as an undercurrent so it’s just ✨them✨ no spells no rage just raw emotion pouring out of both of them and this is what we get. Passion and love in a crowded place no less. They haven’t even HUGGED since Buffy has been brought back, Spike cradled her hands that first night, she would have held onto him riding his motorcycle to and from the bar and he catches her arms to keep her from burning and they kiss but it’s a very stage kiss all gone with the wind which has the implication of a performance a show. Feelings are the entire motivator this time around even though it’s in a crowded room they’re tucked in a dark corner. It’s before the walls and the abandonment wounds and the fear and self judgement and it’s just the sweet moment in time of just the two of them alone in a crowded room completely wrapped up in each other pouring all these feelings they’ve been holding back for really more than a year into THIS KISS and I’m sobbing. The half light half dark lighting and it being equally half and half on both of them just 😭