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corseque · 20 hours ago

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I honestly just wanted one single plot step that I could not predict given the 10 year wait. More behind the cut, I talk about Emet too, and I'm comparing his writing favorably to Solas' writing and why it worked better for me personally, but I am just talking about the writing skill that went into the games and not the dudes themselves, I love them both dearly of course. idk this is a mess and I am not going to edit it for clarity

For me, the game was a series of me saying

"ok I knew that. cool."

"oh yeah, I knew that. I guess it's good that the larger fandom knows about that now."

"nice, but yeah I already knew that too"

"that was something we've been talking about a lot for years"

"this thing they are acting like is a huge enormous reveal that the characters could not possibly have deduced through simply thinking about it in depth over the 10 years... the fans easily figured out by thinking about it in depth 10 years ago. So you would think his girlfriend would be able to figure it out more easily than we did. Like, why couldn't the game have been like 'oh lavellan already figured that out a while ago' it would have cost them nothing"

"this is something I've been thinking about for years, and now that it's being revealed, the companions' reactions to it are very irritating and jarring and unnecessary and I really dislike the experience I'm having right now, in this, the hour of my greatest triumph"

"this thing that is happening on my screen right now is something that I wrote an essay about 2 years ago describing how it would be a letdown if it happened without the correct setup"

"this way that they're characterizing Solas makes him less likable and less interesting than I have been finding him for all these years, and I have had people tell me 'no, he's simpler than you think' for years but I guess I was wrong, he really is simpler than I thought, so that fucking sucks. I wish I could take that information out of my brain."

"this thing is a retcon of information I have been thinking about for 10 years, and so I don't know how to follow along with this new direction, and I'm not sure if I even want to because it's not particularly interesting anyway"

"aw that was sweet"

"why is it like, so very impossible to have an honest back-and-forth with my favorite character about the dilemma that was most interesting to me about the previous game"

and then, as soon as, like, the other fans had caught up to the Solas lore that was really obvious from the other games, the game was.... over without anything surprising happening, or introducing a new element or plot point or perspective, or a real true twist (or two, or three) for those of us who have thought about it too hard for too long. It was very simple and easy, much, much, much, much easier than I was imagining. It all felt sort of like that Nicholson quote:

The thing was, the whole story was so interesting to think about because in 10 years, I couldn't figure out a good solution to it!!!!! It's why I was never able to write post-game fanfic about it. So I was stoked to find out some reveal we never knew about, some new information, in maybe a SERIES of steps of new information, that made the situation more complicated but also something that could be navigated by everyone involved. I know it was asking for a lot, but they had TEN YEARS, and they seemingly had set up the things they did in DAI on purpose, so surely they had some idea of a complex and satisfying narrative that would reconcile everyone.

The reason why I was expecting this is because FFXIV did a very similar story arc, which was started AND concluded WITHIN those 10 years (so it took the FFXIV team far less time to deliver as well). And the conclusion to the story in FFXIV did what I was expecting Dragon Age to do. So I thought, "holy shit, if this is the FFXIV version of this plot, how much more complicated is DA4 going to be!?!?" The DA devs also PLAYED FFXIV so they were completely aware, several years ago, of a satisfying story ending that was pretty darn similar.

People are probably going to think "oh, well Chelsea was disappointed because she spent too much time building it up in her head" but that's exactly it - I actually speculated and thought about FFXIV's story IN DEPTH NONSTOP for a year+ before its ending came out, and the ending absolutely blew me away. FFXIV Endwalker managed to introduce information and new story elements that I was not able to figure out in the YEAR I spent speculating on the ending of FFXIV's story. It took a complicated situation and revealed several several more facets to it that I was not able to predict, but were very interesting and thematically compelling, and took us all to surprising and climactic places that we could not have predicted.

Endwalker ("end" is in the title on purpose) too, was written to be THE ULTIMATE SATISFYING ENDING for a very long-running story in the exactly way that Veilguard SHOULD HAVE for Dragon Age, so while this complexity is being explored, FFXIV also gave catharsis to many different plot threads that have been built up through the previous expansions, until finally it ends with a bang. The story is desperately good to me, I loved it, it gave me closure for Dragon Age long before Veilguard was even revealed, and going back and looking at its story has made this whole thing far less painful for me.

So, I actually did not have a picture in my mind for how things SHOULD go. I just had the thought "I hope it's complicated and there are points of view or facts that we haven't before been exposed to, and the situation is resolved respectfully for Solas, not making him look like a fucking idiot (lol, the only thing I asked for). I don't even care what happens to Solas and Lavellan, I just need the story to be complicated and interesting to think about. Please, god, don't let it be "solas is wrong and he just needs to be convinced" because that's like the simplest story you could tell with this setup"

(btw they managed to tell Emet-Selch's story without making him seem like he's being an idiot on purpose or can never get anything right, and in fact the more the story goes on, the more you think of him as smart and capable and cool, so it is possible to write.... I wasn't asking for the entire moon)

And I played it and... yeah. Most of the story beats were more simple than I wanted them to be, a lot of them didn't make sense in my heart given the writing from Inquisition. (This is another essay, but if Solas' thematic story arc was always about him needing to let go of regrets, why was his personal quest the way it was? After that quest, doesn't he end up regretting not doing more....? Why did he never really talk about regret during Inquisition? If he was so trapped by regret, why was he able to do so many actions? It doesn't mesh well to me. The whole regret thing was very quarter-baked to me, I don't even like thinking about it.) His story never seemed like one that was as simple as being about one man's regrets, but then, I guess, it was always just about one man's regrets.

Emet-Selch's personal storyline (and the way it interacts with and affects the larger story) is very similar but much more cohesive and satisfying to me. It would be difficult to explain why without the aforementioned 5-hour essay. Emet-Selch's story IS about grief and anguish on a world-shaping scale in a similar way that Solas' was apparently always about letting go of regret, but Emet's story was also very pointedly and beautifully about that one theme for the entirety of his story from every tiny detail, from beginning to end - meanwhile, it seemed to me that they tried to introduce 'regret' as the main thrust of Solas' story only in the short story with the Regret demon onward.

From Inquisition just by itself, the closest I personally could get to a story theme for Solas was his inability to trust others hurting him and the world, but his trusting others in DA4 wasn't really addressed to my satisfaction. He is never required to trust anyone before the ending, he never opens up or makes himself vulnerable at all. People find out information about him, he never really dynamically opens himself. So the personal story I thought he had was never addressed at all, while a new one about regret was introduced that never made a ton of sense to me. And I don't think this is just because of my expectations - my reaction to FFXIV proves that I am able to meet good writing where it goes in surprising directions, as long as it's interesting and thoughtful and clear.

And I think this might be part of what people felt was off about the ending - Solas is sort of uninvolved in the revelations that are about him, and doesn't do much to be part of his own ending. Part of what I loved about Solas in Inquisition is that he is not controlled by you in any way, and so he feels like his own person with a very strong sense of character.

Anyway, Emet-Selch, in a very comparable and arguably more extreme plot position, is very involved in the revelations about himself, he always feels like a very strong character who cannot be affected by the player, and the whole situation is handled with deft emotion and care and delicacy. The story is comparatively very uninterested in litigating Emet-Selch or putting him on trial - the story allows you to simply feel the way that you feel in an organic way, and Emet's story spends that energy instead actually exploring his thematic material about grief and legacy, and the larger story theme of existentialism instead, in a way that is very refreshing and interesting. I've seen a lot of western stories tie themselves in knots over "redemption" and frankly it's almost never been interesting at all. Who cares about any of that. lol

(Now, I guess this is a matter of preference, because some people really like being able to shape a character's story, but idk I rewatched the ending of FFXIV and even though there wasn't a choice with Emet, because it isn't a branching story, his story felt more satisfying to me, maybe because there isn't a patronizing choice to be made for him. He is who he is, and he fulfills a very beautiful narrative role and purpose that no other character could in the story.)

I don't know how this could have been improved to me and still allowed players to choose Solas' ending for him, but I can actually think of a few different methods, none of which involve Rook condescendingly and patronizingly lecturing Solas as if Solas had never thought about a single aspect of this horrible situation he's in before that very moment that Rook lectures him lmfao.

All this to say... idk I'm writing this and I am not going back to edit it so it's stream-of-consciousness. But yeah

I just wanted the story to be complicated on a few more levels than I could have predicted. I genuinely don't care what happened, but I thought of a few twists like the Veil coming down and yeah, I was expecting A Single Twist or reveal to happen. In a Dragon Age game.

I wanted Solas to seem cool and capable and noble and smart, and actually feel like he was as old and experienced as he is.

I wanted a clear theme I could sink my teeth into

Like notice I didn't even say anything about Solavellan. Like I never in 100 years thought they were getting a happy ending where they were both alive in bodies, and I like that we got that, but I would honestly trade it for a more complicated story. To me, if a story is sad you can always write fanfic, but if a story isn't COMPLICATED, that's a much more urgent issue.

These 3 things DA4 didn't give me in a way that satisfied me but FFXIV did. anyway idk the way my hyperfixations work, I completely switch to a new subject so talking about Dragon Age is actually hard for me right now.

#DA4 critical #Dragon Age #FF14 #meandering and I don't know what I'm talking about here idk #it's hard to be more clear without getting out very specific examples and I'm not ready to do that yet - I would need to map out the plots #like there are direct 1-to-1 comparisons and for a couple of them Dragon Age is more interesting (mostly stuff in Trespasser) but #like most of them... most of them are better or more successful or more impactful in FFXIV #I think the thing that kills me most is Emet-Selch comes out of FF14 looking capable and wise and thoughtful and Solas does not and #that actually kills me inside... solas is literally a spirit of wisdom #I might need to make that video to explain #anyway FFXIV proves that I CAN be very happy and satisfied with a story even after waiting more than a year and hard speculating about it #so the problem is not my raised expectations - the problem is the lack of complexity

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linkcharacter · 2 days ago

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wrt keeping degloved Jim alive, in pre-release content Anya questions keeping Curly in that state & Swansea gloats so they're aware it's a form of passive torture and the game contrasts Swan/Jim's response to their friend's suffering which makes the answer more complicated imo. Not saying you're wrong or should change your AU, just throwing out an explanation for the other perspective. I'm aware taking a life is beyond most people but keeping him alive seems the more vengeful choice if anything.

Yea, sure I can see keeping him alive might be a vengeful choice, but I'd say it depends on how you see it and how the characters would see it, same as it is in canon. If we ask why the crew would keep Jimmy alive, then we have to think about why they kept Curly alive in the game too. And with Curly's opinion added instead of Jimmy's, I don't see him as someone who would entertain the idea of a 'mercy kill' to his close friend (if he would even consider it as mercy). The crew was convinced Curly crashed the ship (however in jimblasted they got the culprit right) and he was kept alive as much as those around him resented him for allegedly "trying to take them all down with him". The crew may have different reasons to kill them or keep them alive but it's about which decision is final and I don't think it would differ here.

And yeah, Anya not being a 'spiteful' or vengeful person doesn't mean she'll make right choices, she doesn't do so in the story and that's what makes this game brilliant. There is so much impacting everyone's decisions all the time, I think Anya's line "Are we doing the right thing?" is the exact nuance that is so interesting and I think it's twice as interesting to think if it was Jimmy, of all people. Something about how they would treat the worst of people at their most vulnerable state, and including the fact that a couple of those caring for them were deeply hurt by the person in question.

Btw this is something I already have comics planned to explore more, especially with Anya interacting with Jimmy post crash. Actually one of my greatest motivators to start this au was exploration of Anya's character specifically, her scenes with Jimmy are one of the first I ever wrote for jimblasted, but that won't come out until way later when the plot moves. And others in the crew will get their character a spotlight on their thoughts on Jimmy and what to do with him eventually too :)

#jimblasted au #asks #mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #linkch yaps #jimmy mouthwashing #by 'having it planned' I mean I have many dialogues and scenarios in my notes app pretty much written out like all my scripts for jimblast.

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zhoumeyourlove · 21 hours ago

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Interested as always!

My top 3 pairings (i.e. my favorite LIs with my semi-developed self-insert MCs that kinda are me but are also definitely not me...it's complicated okay):

OG High School Story: Xavier Lee x Aiden Zhou

The Cursed Heart: Xavier x Kieran

Blades of Light and Shadow: Xavier Parnassus x Mal Volari x Aerin Valleros

If you have any questions, feel free to send me an anonymous ask! I'm also planning to post dedicated MC profiles for OG HSS and TCH (and mayybeee blades depending on how much time i have) during MC appreciation week as well.

Info under the cut!

Also so sorry for submitting this like one hour before the deadline I've been hyperfocused on my art for the MC appreciation week woops

Xavier & Aiden

i think this image loses pixels every time i take it from one exchange entry to the next lol

Headcanons:

HSS!Xavier is an extremely social introvert - he's the life of the party until his social battery runs out

He's a cat person, and Maria's cat Oreo is practically his BFF. He can't have a cat himself because Scott is allergic, but he loves Paquito the hamster as well.

Other than the main 5 friend group (love interests), he's closest to Myra and Cameron since they were all in band together. The summer after Book 3, he made Cameron a genderqueer-flag-colored friendship bracelet to match their necklace because he likes arts and crafts.

HSS!Xavier is a HUGE K-pop fan. Aiden pretends he doesn't like it, but at this point he's been stockholm-syndromed into liking it. I wrote a fic about it <3

Xavier & Kieran

these two are literally bouncing around in my brain all day long you don't even get it

as seen as my profile picture and banner <3

TCH!Xavier is definitely autistic. Obviously that label isn't applied to him, but if you met him in the modern day, you would know.

He and Kieran work well together because they both hate Fae social events. TCH!Xavier hates them because they're overwhelming - too loud, too bright, too many arbitrary social rules. Kieran hates them because he's just antisocial in general lol

Kieran has enchanted all his clothes so that the textures don't bother him <3

He's hyperempathetic

He has a special interest in medicine, particularly medicinal herbs. As a kid he always followed his mother around and learned from her. One of his favorite parts of living in the Fae Woods is discovering all the new plants there and cataloguing their properties. Post-canon, he becomes an apothecary.

He's very physically affectionate

His favorite animals are rabbits. Whenever he sees one in or around the Moon Court gardens, he sits down to watch it (from afar, so as not to scare it)

Xavier & Mal & Aerin

they are a throuple. To Me. But I would also love anything with just MalMC or AerinMC! Or AerinMal, if you want to go for that.

Headcanons:

They are all so mentally ill. This is canon but I want to emphasize it

Blades!Xavier loves the entire party, but his platonic best friends are Imtura (besties since book 1) and Valax

They all take care of the orphanage together!! Mal is obviously great with them. Blades!Xavier is naturally pretty good with kids as well, but not on Mal's level. Aerin is NOT good with kids at first (he gets slightly less awkward later on, but he's still nervous). He's genuinely confused as to what he's supposed to do with them. He does his best! His best just isn't very good.

Blades!Xavier and Mal get together during Book 1, Blades!Xavier gets with Aerin in Book 2, and Mal and Aerin get together probably towards the end of Book 3 timeline?? Still figuring that out.

They abolish the monarchy, so neither Blades!Xavier nor Aerin are princes they're just Dudes. Mal never stops calling Aerin princeling, though.

Choices Secret Admirer: a Valentine's event

What it is:

Think secret Santa but for Valentine's Day.

Everyone who shows interest in participating will be given a match for whom they should create (or commission) a small work (drabble, art, edit, moodboard, etc)

How to participate:

Reblog this post stating your interest AND include your top 3 books/characters/pairings to help guide your match on what they should create for you. (reblogs that do not include a top 3 will not be considered entries for participation)

or, message me here or at @lovealexhunt stating your interest and include your top picks

Note: When listing your interests, please include any preferred gender/race characteristics you may have for customizable character. If you have FCs you are welcome to list them as well.

If you want to participate but would rather not create for a particular user, feel free to message me privately and if you get that person, I'll re-spin the Wheel of Names should you land on that person.

Deadline to participate: February 1

What comes next:

On, or about, February 2nd, I will message you with your match and what they listed as their top interests. [I use Wheel of Names to match users]

You create something for them based on their interests and post it for them on February 14-16.

You do NOT have to create for all 3 pairings, one is enough. The 3 is to give you a choice for what you're comfortable with!

It would also be really nice if you could include a brief positive message of encouragement and/or support with your creation for your match

Please tag this blog and #ChoicesSecretAdmirer2025 as well so I can keep track of who posted and who is missing.

If you have any questions please do not hesitate to reach out.

#again i'm sorry for submitting this so close to the deadline. unfortunately Autism #(executive dysfunction and hyperfixation combo)#this is just copy pasted from the secret pal exchange with a few changes lol #this is going to be so much easier when i actually have mc intros i can just link #choices events

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anyone-ther3 · 1 day ago

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I've just been thinking about this so like all those Jaune smut/ship posts are a little weird and I don't really like them. Like firstly he doesn't act like himself at all but I know this fandom i shouldn't have expected that much. But his entire character revolves around how he's such a nice and oblivious person who is always in the worst place to be in the wrong time. He suffers hella imposter syndrome and is a huge failure boy (not derogatory). If a female character literally breathes on screen she's somehow in a ship post with him which is honestly a little impressive.

People often forget about Jaune being the guy who had to cheat to get accepted, and how he always had to get his life saved by Pyyhra, or how he literally didn't know how to sword fight with the sword he had. And his arc shows him over coming those odds, but he's still not the strong, alpha male, fuckboy, y'all think he is.

Also these are probably also the people who had a problem with Bumblebee in volume 9 because "they came out of nowhere and the writers just gave into the shippers". THOSE TWO HAD BEEN PRACTICALLY EDGING THE SHIP SINCE VOLUME 3! Monty wrote gay people. I need to pull up that one Danny Motta clip about this. I could pull up every time they were obviously alluding to them being into women/each other but I don't have the time nor the energy to argue with you.

When people start shipping canonically lesbian characters with a male character it is weird. Now some people argue that because people ship RubyxWeiss it's ok to do it the other way too. Ruby and Weiss aren't confirmed either way, Blake and Yang are. I literally don't care what way you ship them if they're not in a committed(healthy) relationship or haven't been confirmed in canon. Also y'all have never heard of female friends or sisters for some reason. Jaune and Ruby were a sibling dynamic from the get go but whatever I'm not trying to get myself killed. Jaune and Weiss do actually have chemistry, so does OscarxRuby.

Lastly, all of yall have been largely mischaracterizing Jaune because you want him to be a dominant but mostly empty character who you can place yourself in the position of. It's really the same problem as the isekai genre. But Jaune isn't the dominant type who acts like a fuck boy.

Obviously Jaune's the bottom, like he's the one wearing the collar in these scenarios, dumbass.

#rwby #jaune arc #shipping #mischaracterization #rant post #yang xiao long #bumblebee #whiterose #stop

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seasonal-writes · 1 day ago

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Hey there! So, it’s been a while. I have done a lot of thinking, some writing, some attempts—but I have come to the conclusion that I do not think I will be writing out the continuation and end of When Fate Finds Golden Rings. It took me a while to get to this point, and I'm so sorry to anyone who was hoping or expecting me to eventually come back to posting it on ao3. You know, you just.. don’t write on a fic for over a year-ish and surprise! Maybe you really lost the energy and passion for this piece after all. Which is okay.

BUT. Instead,

Welcome to: Ro gives away the plans for the ending, rambles about that process, and gives other weird notes about their first big boy AU. Because I saw a post about bullet point-ing fic and realized I am, in fact, allowed to do that.

Strap in because this is going to be a Big Post. Sorry in advance. And if it wasn't very obvious, um. Spoilers for When Fate Finds Golden Rings below the cut. <3

It’ll probably be starting at chapter 14.

So, I want to disclose, before we begin: the ending is not totally up to my current standards as a writer. And this isn’t going to be me bashing my own creative process or my burnout or anything like that. I just feel like noting that… had I thought about the ending in more detail instead of flying by the seat of my pants, I think that it would be more put-together and interesting. I think that applies to the entire story, honestly. So. Yeah. If the ending falls a little flat, that is why. I was too busy daydreaming over my epilogue—which I will be talking about as well!! It's honestly my favorite aspect that came from continually thinking about the fic rather than writing it. LMAO.

Interestingly enough, I originally wrote that there were going to be at most like, 7-8 chapters left. realistically, that would probably not have happened. Considering this outline was in SHAMBLES, I can safely say it would’ve been a whirlwind last few chapters. sincerely, future Ro after writing out the mess you’re about to see.

The place where Joel, Lizzie, and Etho live was going to be the place where the ending took place. All the chapters in this “arc” as I'd call them—even though that’s not really what they are—were going to be here and were originally intended to be a deeper dive into Tango’s background. Since the first half of the story is really steeped in Jimmy’s world, it had only felt right to give Tango his own section and exposition as a character.

This was going to become the part of the story where it’s like, Jimmy and tango are in a more stable place for a moment so it gives them more time to reflect. It also would’ve given them time to be away from each other, which I thought was important for two guys who had been subjected to good ol’ forced proximity and were finally given little outs to be apart; i.e. Etho taking tango away for a day, Jimmy spending time with Lizzie and/or Joel. That was a chapter idea I had: both basically kinda being like: yeah! no! I can be alone. I don't miss him at all. not even a little. it feels weird without him here though, right- and just dealing with that. Plus the fear of getting caught, the fear of the OTHER one getting caught and not knowing. yeah. <3

Something I had planned on happening between Tango and Jimmy was that Jimmy was basically going to very much avoid his own feelings all around. He’s so attached to this guy, very much falling for him, and convinced that he is in the way despite it all. He’s kinda… under the impression that maybe he’s in the wrong for not wanting to stay, because OBVIOUSLY Jimmy knows better than to stay in one place like this after the whole journey thus far, when Tango seems so happy. So Jimmy, flawed as this idea is, just assumes Tango will be better off if he stays close to his home and Jimmy doesn’t want to make Tango feel like he has to keep running. The best way i can describe this is like

Jimmy: Man. Tango seems really happy here. I don't think he needs me. I bet he wants to stay. No, I'm not gonna ask him, that’s crazy. What I WILL do, however, is leave without telling him.

and then he did. :)

That was basically going to lead into a chapter where Jimmy is ~kidnapped~ on his way out of town by ANOTHER set of characters I was excited about: the mercenaries, Ren, Martyn, and BigB! Golden Rings!Ren is fun to me because he keeps the Red King aesthetic. For some context of why they exist: the three stooges mercenaries heard through the grapevine that if the two princes were captured and returned alive, there would be a big reward. I never actually decided if they’d been tracking Jimmy and Tango for a while, or if it was a coincidence that the reward went out and they happened to stumble into town. but all that matters is that Ren ‘n Gang are in fact successful, and smuggle Jimmy off to a camp somewhere along the road headed back to the palace with full intentions of bringing him home, with or without tango.

behind the scenes, tango is actively losing his mind. so, fun fact here: I never actually…wrote down how this next bit happens. please forgive me i haven’t touched this outline in like a year and a lot has happened since then- but OoOoh wow! Tango manages to find him!! at the camp!! at night. please note here that golden rings!tango has reflective animal eyes. like cats at night when light shines on them? that’s tango.

I had this whole scene planned where I would riff off the Tango Rage and make him go nuts on these guys. The funny thing is that Tango can’t really fight, but I think he would do an effective job on scaring the shit out of them and chasing them out of camp. Like, spooky story level shit—crackling twigs, snapping branches, etc.. At the end, Tango manages to untie Jimmy and they make a quick getaway back to town.

When I tell you this was gonna be one exciting chapter after exciting chapter, I mean it. The next big part, dear rancher enjoyers, was going to be the confession scene.

Basically, imagine. Tango and Jimmy are walking home. tango is really quiet, won’t look at jimmy except to make sure he’s still right there. There is a storm brewing in the sky, and they’re trying to get back as soon as possible. but suddenly, tango freezes in place. Jimmy gets a few feet ahead, but stops and turns when he notices tango isn’t in pace with him. tango looks hurt. more hurt than jimmy’s ever seen him. which makes Jimmy feel awful. and it’s like:

T: If you wanted to leave, you should have told me. J: …Tango. T: If you wanted to leave, you should have come and told me. We are friends— a team, you've said it yourself. I would’ve been ready to go. J: I wasn’t…I was hoping you wouldn’t follow me. T: Why wouldn’t I follow you? J: I just thought it’d be easier on both of us if I left you to your devices here. I’m sorry. T: You’re sorry? You think that’s gonna just- just make this better for me? After you just up and left me there, worried that you’d been taken back to your family? T: And- And you almost were, too! You were this close, Jimmy! If you were that scared of staying then- J: You know, there was nothing forcing you to come get me, I could’ve just gone and you could’ve stayed and lived the life you wanted back in the palace! I thought that was the plan! Freedom for both of us! T: ….You really just don’t get it, huh? Are you that dense? J: What? What don’t I understand? T: I am in love with you, you idiot! J: …You.. you what? [dialogue taken from the scene i started writing but never finished<3]

And then more things happen and then they KISSSSSSSS !!!

Realistically, I want to note that the transition between here and the ending was very finicky and not written down. so, instead, i will be giving you a general run down of what the ending was supposed to be.

With tango and jimmy now having confessed and acting upon those feelings, they think they’re safe for the moment. However, soon after, etho finds them and basically alerts them of an uptick of Nether Guard, having heard that the mercenaries reported their sighting and now, rather rapidly because ~portal transport~, the kings were sending search parties out once more. etho suggests they get out of the city, and the two agree, prepping quickly to leave what became a very good few allies and safe place for the roads once more.

The day they are supposed to flee, the overworld’s royal party arrives; Grian heading the way, seeming to be the one sent to find his little brother.

This part got really fuzzy for me because I don't think I ever actually plotted out the transitionary period between "you two need to run" and "we're running, it's bad."

What I do know, though, is that the final scene would’ve been a confrontation with Grian, who attempts to convince them to come home. but when Jimmy explains, begs his brother to try and understand (i also think he uses his secret relationship with Scar as a bit of an example. leverage, even); Grian eventually wishes his brother goodbye, and turns a blind eye to let them run.

Epilogue: Tango and Jimmy, fittingly, escape to the countryside. When they eventually outrun search parties and the call for their return dies down, they settle on a tiny cottage out on a tiny farm with wishes to expand it and make it their own. Jimmy tends to the animals. Occasionally, he sends a letter under a false name, and he gets one in response; a brother, far away, still keeping him in on happenings in the kingdom and in his life. Tango dives into his redstone, creating and building and making things he never would’ve had much time to while being a king. He thinks of a guard, long left behind, and wonders if he thinks of him too.

The two never marry, as marriage doesn’t leave a very sweet taste in their mouths—but they do make vows, whispered promises to stay together forever. A prophecy haunts them; but they were never really the type to obey any plan laid out for them, anyway.

Some years later, a quiet life has been established—but one day, someone arrives. Tango has gone out to gather supplies, so when there’s a knock, Jimmy answers the door.

Before him, there is a tall figure with a familiar set of eyes. Impulse, knight and ex-personal guard of the Nether Court, stands before him. When Tango returns to find him, a beautiful reunion is had; one with tears and relief and all the love in the world so present in one moment.

GUESS WHAT !!! TANGO/JIMMY/IMPULSE CANON IN GOLDEN RINGS EPILOGUE!! IMPULSE COMES BACK TO HIS BOY AFTER ESSENTIALLY GIVING UP HIS GUARD POSITION BECAUSE IT’S NOT THE SAME!! THEY CAN BE SO SILLY TOGETHER NOW!! AAAAAAAAA I’VE BEEN WAITING TO SHARE THIS GOD-

please god someone ask me about this dynamic i’m not okay

And, yeah! That was kind of it for the story. As I said, it falls flat to an extent. It’s not the ending that I would give it today. I still wanted to share it, even if it wasn’t the best or most detailed. I love this story, I love this universe and its characters and all the work I did on it. I still want to think about it, talk about it, etc. I’m not letting it go completely, just.. the fic won’t be finished. I am of the firm belief that I could’ve done a lot of things differently, that the story could be even better if I rewrote it entirely. But that’s not a project for right now. :) Because holy shit this fic is at 65k and that would be… hoooo.. a lot of work. Just like picking it back up and finishing it would also be quite a bit of work. It’s hard—I’ve had people tell me just to do it, just to finish the damn thing for the sake of finishing it and not quitting. So, this is my version of that, even if it isn’t the same. I don’t feel like I’m quitting, I'm only a little sad about how it's ending for now, but it feels right. I’m just like 99% sure I won’t enjoy writing the rest out. And, like I said at the start, that’s okay. Passion and motivation changes. People grow.

Anyway, that’s all! Thanks for listening to my silly little ramble about this AU that is old but still lovely. If you guys have questions or wanna chat about the AU at all, my ask box is always open even if I am terrible at answering them. If I find anything else or think up anything, maybe I’ll post about it! But, for now, I hope you all enjoyed my sillies. I love everyone who set foot in this space and read what is still my most favorite fanfiction I've ever written. :)

#golden rings au #heyyyyy... how are we feeeeeling....#this was a very.. ramshackle post. and not written the best but yknow. it's here now. i hope u guys like it at least a little #again i'm really sorry if anyone was expecting something different or. yknow. that i was gonna come back to it eventually #genuinely maybe down the line i'd love to reformat this whole fic and rewrite the plot and fully outline it. it'd be fun #but for right now i'm neck deep in a creative rut and trying my best to get back out #so yeah<3

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yangjungwonisms · 2 days ago

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Hi all!! Here’s a random JW one shot I wrote a few weeks ago! Hope you enjoy! And if you see any of these posted on Ao3 it is me!! I’ve posting them there under a different account @ najaemincoded

CW: NSFW MDNI 18+

An Indecent Proposal- YJW

You knew how everyone saw Jungwon. He was always so sweet and caring and reliable it drove you crazy. Every single thing about him got under your skin. You know, it sounded like you hated him really you didn’t. In fact you were deeply in love with him. He happened to share that sentiment. You two also happened to be in a relationship. You’d been together nearing 2 years now. Hell you even lived together. What drives you crazy is how good he is at showing everyone just how good of a guy he is. It’s not for show, he is all of those things and more. What you can’t stand is how innocent and cute everyone thinks he is. And in some ways they aren’t wrong but Jungwon hasn’t been innocent in your relationship for a long time now. As a matter of fact, he’s way more perverted than you are. You swear it’s true. He’s very much the sweet and caring boyfriend everyone paints him out to be, but he’s also dangerous.

It was just another day for you two. You hadn’t spent much time together the last few days due to your work schedules so you were both a little needy for each other. Jungwon would message you every once in awhile during the day when he had free time. The conversations you two were having hadn’t even indicated if he was feeling one way or another.

You were standing in the kitchen scrolling on your phone when Jungwon arrived home. You didn’t even hear him walk in that’s how quiet he was. You really didn’t know what had gotten him so wound up given that he’d just laid eyes on you for the first time all day. You were alerted to his presence when he hugged you from behind. You immediately relaxed in his arms finally feeling all of the anxiety and stress from the week melt off of you. You could tell by the urgency of his movements that he was in a mood. “Fuck baby, you look so sexy right now”. You were sure he’d gone crazy, you were in an oversized t shirt and sweatpants. “Jungwon what on earth are you talking about. Look at me, how is this sexy to you”? You couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. He could only shake his head and chuckle. “Kitty, you should know by now I always find you sexy”. Oh god, you knew as soon as he called you ‘Kitty’ that you were in for it. You turn yourself around to where you are now facing him . “Hmm you look pretty sexy yourself baby”. He really did too. He was wearing what he wore to the office every single day, maybe it was the sleeves of his shirt pushed up showing off the veins in his arms. Maybe it was the expression he wore on his face or maybe it was his hair pushed off his forehead. It was a deadly combination of everything. Within seconds he had you backed up against the counter and your lips locked in a heated kiss. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the contact. You’d been waiting to feel his lips on you all day. You can feel him get more worked up by each second that passes.

You two stay like this for a little while just enjoying being with each other. “mmm so sexy baby. love kissing you could do it all day”. He made a point to start leaving kisses down your neck each one messier than the last. “Then keep kissing me won. please I missed you so much today”. You knew you were screwed when he let out a sinister laugh upon hearing your confession. “want your mouth on something else baby. Get on your knees for me”. You’d think he was being bossy if not for the fact he knows how much you like it. You hadn’t realized how hard he had gotten until you were on your knees face to face with his clothed cock. He made quick work of getting his pants and boxers off so you could get to work. Normally he lets you work up to it but today he was way too wound up to wait for you. You’d never tire of the predatory way he stared at you when ordering you around. “Wanna make you choke okay princess”? You knew it wasn’t a question.

He was inpatient today. It was bad enough he doesn’t get to see you much during the week but combine that with the work piling up on his desk and his desperation for you and you were a goner. He knew he was being a little over the top with you but he planned on making it up to you just as soon as he was satisfied.

Wasting no time he grabbed hold of his cock taking a second to tap the head of it on your mouth signaling for you to open up. The pace he sets is unrelenting. The only time he’s giving you to adjust is the time it takes for you to take him fully in your mouth. Once he’s bottomed out his hands find purchase in your hair gently guiding your movements. After a few seconds he stills your movements altogether holding your head in place so he can continue to fuck your mouth. You truly didn’t mind him using you this way, in fact you loved it. In the privacy of your own home you two often had intimate moments such as these. From the outside it looks like Jungwon is brutal and mean with the way he speaks to you and the things he makes you do. But when you two became involved with each other you were both inexperienced virgins. Neither of you had any idea what pleasure meant to you. But through time and plenty of trial and error you two came to define your sexual relationship. Your roles came naturally to you both. You tended to take a more submissive approach to your encounters while Jungwon tended to become more dominant. He needed this and you knew that. So much of his day to day life is answering to other people and managing his own team. He loves his job but what he lacks in his professional life he makes up for in his personal life. And so because of that, you’d let him use you whatever way he needed knowing it made him happy. Also because he’d make it up to you tenfold when he was finished.

Even though you were struggling to breathe and there were tears running down your face you could never get enough. It was worth it with how heavenly he sounded. Even more so with how heavenly he looked. He had a habit of rambling off the filthiest words while getting himself off. He almost always had his eyes closed with his brow furrowed. The sexiest thing was the closer he’d get to finishing the more he’d bite his lip to try and keep his pretty little noises at bay. But he knew how much you needed to hear him so eventually he stopped holding back.

Your boy has the face of an Angel but the words that tumble out of his mouth are anything but. “Fuck, such a good fucking good girl taking my cock like this huh. God you fucking love it baby I know you do”. It’s then he takes a second and makes eye contact with you. His beautiful desperate little slut on her knees being so good for him. This and countless other things are why he loves you so much. His love for you often consumes him but it’s also what anchors him and brings him back down to earth.

He’s known for awhile now that he was going to marry you someday. But moments like this bring a kind of clarity he’s grateful for. Which is why the closer he gets to climax the less control he has over his words. He meant to do it a different way. He wanted it to be all about you but he just couldn’t help himself. “So beautiful for me like this baby. Fuck baby you’re doing so good for me. God you know I love you so much right”? He’s staring right at you one hand caressing your cheek. He’s seen you like this for him countless times but something about this moment makes it feel more raw and emotional than it ever has. He doesn’t need you to answer he knows you’re very aware of how he feels about you and how much he loves you. “Gonna marry you one day baby. Gonna give you everything you’d ever need. Fuck please marry me baby, gonna make you so happy”. By that time he was so high off how your mouth was making him feel that he was no longer in the same room as you having finished mere minutes after his accidental proposal.

You choose not to mention it until after he’s regained his composure. In fact, you both go about your business after that. He pulls you off of him giving you a quick kiss before beelining to the bathroom to shower. You can tell he’s embarrassed but if he’d actually talked to you about it instead of running away he’d have known how badly you wanted to say yes. You leave it be until after dinner, figuring he needs time to himself to sort through his emotions. But when you’re getting ready for bed and he still hasn’t mentioned it you can’t take it anymore. “Are we gonna talk about it won? And don’t try and play coy and act like you don’t know what I mean”. He freezes in place the moment you brought it up. “Won it’s okay. You don’t have to mean it, I understand you were caught up in the moment. It’s okay really”. That seemed to snap him out of it. He paused for a second looking deep in thought before he got up and walked across the room. You aren’t sure what he’s doing until he comes back with a box in his hand and motions for you to sit down next to him. “Princess you misunderstand, it’s not that I’m embarrassed or even regret that I proposed to you. I’ve been planning to for awhile now”. Now you’re confused even more. “Okay wonie if that’s the case then why have you been avoiding me”? He couldn’t help but let out a laugh he’d been holding in for hours. “Baby, the reason I’ve been avoiding you is because I proposed to you while you were giving me head. You deserved far more from me than that”. You’d be damned if that didn’t make you even more sure of your answer.

“Won, to anyone else I could see how it’d be embarrassing but, it’s you and it’s me, it doesn’t matter the circumstances”. Pausing for a second you continue “did you mean it though baby”? You could’ve swore you saw stars in his eyes when you asked him that. He didn’t go to answer immediately, instead he moved from where he was sitting and got down on one knee. “God you’re so perfect baby. Please for the love of god, marry me”? You knew it was coming and you’re still overwhelmed. “How long have you had this ring for”? Without skipping a beat “I’ve had this ring since the first time I told you I loved you. I was so sure within weeks of meeting you that I wanted to marry you someday”. You can’t even form words all you can do is nod your head. “Princess I need to hear it”. Forcing yourself to focus you reply with “Yang Jungwon I want nothing more than to marry you”. He wasted no time taking the ring out of the box and placing it on your finger. You were so overwhelmed with emotions that all you could focus on was how sexy he looked in that moment. You needed him and you needed him now. “Baby, get on the bed”. He turned his head to the side giving you a confused look. “Jungwon, get on the bed”. Once he finally moves to the bed you waste no time launching yourself onto him. At first you’re just kissing him wanting to relish in the feeling of being newly engaged. When you pulled away from the kiss he let out sounds of protest not wanting to break the kiss. You look at him before leaning in to whisper in his ear “baby, can I ride you please”? God how could he say no when you were looking at him with puppy dog eyes. “Fuck baby, go ahead”. You don’t hesitate to rip off any remaining clothing. You’re so desperate you forego any foreplay seeing how he’s visibly straining against his sweats. You opt to sink down on him with no prep, you knew you were ready to take him having been wet since you gave him head earlier. Jungwon thinks he’s in heaven watching you ride him like there’s no tomorrow . Jungwon was no stranger to you riding him but he can’t remember a time you set such a fast pace right off the bat. “Fuck you’re riding my cock so good baby. You always take it like a pro. You gonna let me cum in your pussy pretty baby? Gonna take what I give you huh”. It didn’t take long for either of you to finish. But the moment you did Jungwon flipped you over onto your back and started fucking you again. This time he kept a slower pace choosing to take this moment to really feel you. Once he made you cum one more time he pulled out of you and proceeded to start eating you out. He always did love to eat your pussy when you were well and truly spent with no fight left in you. You can only imagine what’s in store for the rest of the evening. In fact, you’re sure the festivities are going to continue throughout the weekend.

#kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop writers #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #kpop smut #jungwon enhypen #enha jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon

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juvinadelgreko · 1 day ago

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adding to this as a Late To The Party queer person who also just reread TRC:

i second everything in this post. it took me nearly 2 decades to realize i wasn’t into men. looking back on my life, i attribute this largely to the fact that i was way too busy being a Gifted Kid ��️ who also played elite sports and barely had time to eat, let alone consider my own identity.

those things were always true about me: i just didn’t see them for what they were until i actually had time for myself, got out into the world and had experiences that showed me those things.

i was into women the entire time. but until i actually met another queer woman, it never occurred to me that there was any explanation for what i felt beyond “this girl is my friend. that’s why i like her so much.”

i was never into men. but until i actually tried to kiss one and hated it it never occurred to me that there might’ve been an explanation for my lack of interest in them besides “i’m very busy playing elite junior sports and carrying a full ap course load.”

so it doesn’t at all surprise me that in the midst of working 3 jobs, dealing with abusive father, striking a bargain with a magical sentient forest, hunting for a dead welsh king, AND going to school, adam parrish didn’t exactly have a minute to consider that maybe he liked ronan’s attention for other reasons.

adam tells us straight up that he enjoys ronan’s crush because it makes him feel worthy of admiration—and he’d never felt admired that way before. that’s a far more plausible explanation than “i am also queer.” and while it probably does account for some of his feelings, adam Does Not Have The Time to look at it any closer. he’s literally being possessed while he tries to finish his senior year of high school!

then ronan kisses him, and he likes it???? what?? i think many queer people have this moment, where we can pinpoint the exact moment that we realized we’d been in denial the whole time, or just hadn’t been able to see the whole truth. because before an actual kiss, there were reasonably plausible heterosexual explanations for everything we’d felt prior. it’s not until something happens for which there is no heterosexual explanation that we start to go hm. perhaps i missing something.

this happened to alex in rwrb. he could easily explain away his obsession with henry by telling himself and everyone else that he hated henry because he was snobby and british and had been annoying to him one time. why would alex look any closer at this scenario? his mother, the POTUS, is fighting for re-election against a very conservative candidate. she doesn’t need her son to be queer. then henry kisses him, he likes it, and there is no heterosexual explanation for that.

and of course, as we said, with adam. he was able to explain away enjoying ronan’s crush, had no desire to examine his feelings any further because of Life ™️, and then suddenly he’s making out with ronan and he likes it and oh wait there’s no heterosexual explanation for this!

so yeah. it makes a lot of sense. queer people under a great deal of outside pressure usually take a minute to realize they’re queer. something has to happen to trip the wires. it’s kind of sad but very true. re-reading trc, i’m actually really impressed with how maggie wrote adam and ronan’s arc. it’s very much authentic to what a lot of us experience.

there’s a very clear contrast between queer people who grew up in pressure cookers and queer people who grew up affirmed and supported like ronan did. whether he ever came out to his parents or not, ronan was always told he was loved and powerful. so facing his own queerness would’ve been a much easier pill for him to swallow than adam. i imagine he saw declan start flirting with girls, thought “girls? really? ew. no.” and that was that. ronan was gay, there was nothing that could be done to change that, so fuck you if you didn’t like it. but when niall dies and he loses his support system and he has to figure out his powers on his own, dating promptly goes to the bottom of his priority list. that is, until adam. until he has the gangsey as a support system.

TL;DR, it’s very hard to live an authentic an authentic life if all your energy is going towards survival. no shit adam parrish is unknowable. he doesn’t have time to learn.

I’ve been musing on adam’s sexuality and I know some folks feel like he’s been bi the whole time but having just done a deep pynch-focused dive through the books, I actually think adam hadn’t realized that he was into ronan Like That until they kissed. like he obviously knew ronan was into him (and actually, knew ronan was gay since like, the beginning of trb probably), but he had sort of convinced himself that the reason he enjoyed it was vanity/attention. and right before and after the kiss we get the line “adam didn’t understand anything” which feels to me like he hadn’t even comprehended this was a thing he wanted until he was doing it.

and that’s actually a very common queer experience, especially for folks who are interested in multiple genders, especially when they’re young.

so adam, despite wanting to know everything and being the perceptive one, has these increasingly big moments of “I feel like I’m missing some data here” but the data he needed was the actual experience of kissing ronan/making the conscious decision to kiss ronan again and THEN he has his eureka moment. And he can look back at the moments where he found his Latin teacher hot, or when he put a picture of an attractive man in his glove box and realize he was bi the whole time.

#i feel like adams journey to bisexuality is a lot like alex’s in rwrb #<- from OP #literally a perfect comparison #trc #pynch #june’s trc reread #meta

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xviolence-begets-violetsx · 2 days ago

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With Somebody Who Loves Me

Vessel x GN!reader

Complete fluff, No warnings

1.7k words

A/N: Hello all! Firstly, I need to give credit where credit is due. @polteergeistt made this lovely post and ever since I read it I’ve been rotating it around in my brain and got inspired, so I wrote this little piece based off of it to try and exercise it (lovingly) from my mind.

Secondly, this is rpf however, I’ve offered no descriptors for Vessel whatsoever or for the reader for that matter. This piece is GN I believe, but if you find something that conflicts with that please tell me 🫶

Lastly, This piece is paired with Whitney Houston’s ‘I Want To Dance With Somebody’ and I listened to it while I wrote it. Vessel has covered this song BUT for the vibes alone I think the original fits better. I’m gonna embed it here just for funsies in case you want to really immerse yourself and listen along as you go.

Ok, I’m rambling now, without further adieu

It was 8:47 on a Tuesday evening in the cozy little flat you shared with your boyfriend. You’d finished dinner a little over half an hour ago. The food finished, the plates pushed away from before the both of you long ago. Stagnant remainders of your nightly ritual, abandoned in lieu of spontaneous, animated chatter.

You lived for the times you could get him just like this. Inhibitions loosed, walls momentarily crumbled. Pure, raw, unfiltered, unapologetically Ves. It’d been by pure accident this time around, just conversations natural progression that led him down some unforeseen tangent he’d launched into on a whim you wouldn’t have been able to see coming if you’d tried. But they were almost always better when it happened that way anyway— natural, unforced.

That’s not to say that Vessel was hard to converse with, quite the opposite actually. Attune to a fault, he could make the tightest lipped person an open book and often did. He simply listened in a way that made a person feel like they could open up, free of persecution, free of judgement. You’d told Vessel things you’d never thought possible, things you’d swore you’d never utter to another soul, mortal or otherwise, things you thought not even a god could pull from your lips but then he came along and changed all of that.

But on the flip side of that same coin Vessel was a much more reserved person and it’s not that he refused to share with you, he shared plenty but those moments were few and far between and it was better when you didn’t push.

That was the thing with Vessel, his trust was built like a house of cards, it was better to have patience with him and build him up card by card. Varied levels of reassurance built on strong foundations of trust. But push too hard too quickly and all the hard work you’d built would topple over and he’d become closed to you again.

And even the little snippets of things you’d garnered from him over time didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what you could sense lurking ominously in the thick fog of his emotional depths. Like shuttered goliaths they guarded a part of him you weren’t sure, even after decades of being by his side that you’d ever truly get the full gist of. Things probably too painful or wretched for him to dredge up again— not that you blamed him, we all have pasts.

But there were certain times, shining moments spersed between casual conversation when you’d get the privilege to see him let go of some of his reservations, opening up to you for just a second and simply be. This was one of those moments.

It started out simply enough. He’d inquired about your day, you’d given him the simple rundown and then asked him the same— not really expecting him to dive too extravagantly into the details, he always assumed his day to day work would come off too technical for you to care, even despite your best efforts to assure him that wasn’t the case.

But for whatever reason tonight was different, tonight he indulged you. As you realized this to be, you set your fork down, the baked ziti no longer holding your full attention as he started to talk and then simply kept going and kept going and kept on like that. You sort of froze, scared that any little misguided effort, any subtle shift in your demeanor may deter him from continuing all while being unable to stop yourself from staring at him.

He got this light in his eyes when he got like this, an excitement bubbling just below the surface when he really was into what he was explaining to you and though you know it’d probably break him to hear you say it, you found it beyond cute and couldn’t really help it as you found yourself almost swooning openly at the sight of him.

Luckily for you, he seemed so embroiled in regaling you about how he’d managed to finally experience the breakthrough he’d been looking for after finding himself stumped for the past two weeks on quite the right melody for a new piece, that he didn’t even seem to notice you melt into the hand you’d rested your face on as you leaned to the side a bit listening to him talk.

Your eyes flitted over his features in admiring passes, illuminated in a golden glow by the dining room light overhead, in that moment he seemed ethereal. It was one of those moments you wished you could freeze and store away for later, like when he was away on tour and you missed him the most. Able to pull it out on those late nights when you lay awake, trying to figure out what time it was for him in the part of the world he was in at that moment, wondering if he may still be awake and missing you just like you were missing him, just to walk around in it— a perfect moment frozen in time.

The sound of the rain pulled you both from it, popping the bubble in such a sudden way it left you both startled as your eyes slipped from one another’s and up to the ceiling above like you could see the rain as it pelted against the roof above your heads, disturbing your peace. But even as you came back to each other again the moment had seemed to pass and the magic was already gone.

And suddenly life’s more pragmatic priorities slipped back into place— the ceremonial clearing of the table, the dishes, and the putting away of leftovers. Sweeping the both of you away from the moment to lament over what could have been if not for the rude awakening of the pouring rain.

You meandered into the kitchen, a little nostalgic over a moment not five minutes into the past as you pulled the dishwasher open in the midst of your reveries and found it full to the brim, cursing at yourself under your breath for having neglected to empty it prior to starting dinner. You resigned yourself to the task, pliantly adapting to the newest pressing matter and beginning to unload the ancient, leaking behemoth when you heard the first notes cut through the sound of the roaring rain.

Immediately identifiable, at least something good had managed to be salvaged from the wreck of the moment, the funky first notes of Whitney Houston’s ‘I Want To Dance With Somebody’ broke through the unrelenting patter of rain beating against the roof like siren sound.

More than just a song the both of you adored it was a signal of something greater on the horizon. You’d been with Vessel long enough to know he put that song on when his creative juices were at their peak. Letting the upbeat tempo hoist him into the depths of a creative flow not much could bring him back from the brink of. It made an excited little shiver run through you, all was not lost.

Perhaps, after completing your menial tasks you could still hope to catch him in the thick of it sitting across from him. You, book in hand, in your wingback armchair and him across the room on the couch, a plethora of music sheets and sticky notes and his old beat up Casio sprawled out in a messy array around him on the wide, wide surface of the worn-in jumbo cushions— parallel play at its finest.

With that single, cozy image at the forefront of your mind’s eye and a lazy but growing smile tugging at the corner of your lips you set to work, pulling things from the racks with a newfound fervor. With something to work for, something to look forward to, you began to unload the dishwasher at a breakneck pace. Flitting around your little kitchen as busy as a bee to the backdrop soundtrack of Vessel’s lovely falsettos, rising and falling in melodic waver from across the house and that’s when you registered it.

The sound of his voice, it was drawing closer. You paused in step; large, ornate ceramic mixing bowl still in hand as he rounded the corner. The smile that had settled effortlessly over your lips since the first notes of the song had originally rung out through the open air of the apartment now grew wider at the sight of him.

One of his own mirrored yours as he half-danced half-bounced into the room, snatching the ceramic mixing bowl from your hands and setting it down almost carelessly on the kitchen island in his haste to reach out and take both your hands in his. His eyes settled on yours in an unuttered decree, even as you shook your head in protest, a nervous but excited giggle bubbling up from your throat as your cheeks flushed with heat at the prospect of what his actions proposed to you.

“No… no, no.” But he wasn’t having any of it. Without missing so much as a single beat as he continued to belt out alongside Whitney, he pulled you into him. Away from the hazardous obstacle of the pulled out dishwasher and into the more open space between the kitchen and breakfast nook so the two of you would have more room.

His bouncing was contagious all on its own and you were helpless to deny him anything anyway, especially like this. The weight of his palms settled over yours as he encouraged you wordlessly to join him in dance was steadying, grounding; and you soon found your body moving of its own accord. Bouncing lightly at first on the balls of your feet just to appease him, a strain starting to pull at the apples of your cheeks from your ceaselessly widening grin as you began to give in to him. And soon enough the both of you were spinning around the room, laughter bubbling between the two of you, muddying up the words as you started to sing along with him.

You, Whitney and him in beautiful, broken harmony as he twirled you around the open space, living carefree and in the moment. You were sure the neighbors would be filing another complaint, one among many but that didn’t matter. What mattered in that moment was dancing with somebody— with somebody who loves you.

#sleep token vessel x reader #vessel x you #sleep token fanfiction

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sugary-daydreams3 · 1 day ago

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Grief trapped in blue sunglass lens [Gojo's funeral fanfiction]

Summary: Now that the students and Jujutsu associates healed their physical wounds, they have no choice but to face the elephant in the room. Satoru Gojo is gone and everyone deals with the void in their own way before the funeral begins.

Word count: 6.4k

Series: Lost chapters I wish Gege wrote about

A/N: Made this because me and many other people didn't get to see a Gojo funeral nor the character's feelings on him being gone. This is one of my biggest gripes with the ending of JJK. I had no problems with Gojo dying but I feel that how he was handled physically post Yujo fight left much to be desired.

So I decided to write about (mostly) everyone's coping with Gojo's death and a funeral service for him. Forgive me if the funeral may seem culturally inaccurate. Hopefully, no characters come across as too OOC, but some of these characters are hard to get right when they don't have much room to shine their personality in canon.

Glossy nails trail the white engraved letters and numbers above the matte black. She forgot to give back his credit card. The last time she used it was Hallo--

Hall--

October 31st.

October.

That fucking month with that fucking day. Like an alarm that keeps ringing and a clock that won’t move forward fused together.

The month of horror, trick or treating, and bloody exploding eyeballs. The month were kids face real horror, not those stupid dumb skeletons, werewolves, and vampires. The kind of horror that will make someone either sample death or have it as their final meal.

31st should have ended with her rocking the clothes she picked up eight hours before that fight. Gojo should have been eating endless candy and telling them “Job well done!” in that stupid annoying comforting voice of his. Not boxed away and expecting his students to come out on top in the chilly wild.

She didn’t even see him die. She didn’t get to say her final words to him that just would have amounted to...

“If you die your card is mine forever. So die, okay?”

She couldn’t even say her fucked up, dark, cruel joke that was a mask of “Please don’t fucking die”.

Why couldn’t I move?

Why wasn’t I awake?

Why wasn’t I present?

Who wants to hear recollections of what happened between October 31st and December 24th? She wanted to help out with the Culling Games. She wanted to see the great battle of Sukuna vs. Gojo. She wanted to finally meet this Yuta kid and see everyone’s reaction to him coming back. She wanted to save Megumi when Yuji couldn’t. Picking up the pieces of Yuji’s mistakes. Being that deciding factor that could have prevented so much bullshit.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Why wasn’t I here?

Her only eye stings, blinking two tears to fall on the muted black card. The heartache trails down to the 2754 of the four-part row of digits. Nobara quivers her lips as she tries to swallow down pills of regrets, exclusion, and despondency.

Residing dust forces a couple of coughs out of Inumaki. He waves off the floating particles and goes for the next book off Gojo sensei’s shelve. He grabs the spine of the book and slowly pulls it out.

He gave up being curious on the subject matter of these books once he cleared the first row. Just of bunch of thick, mind-numbing pieces on Jujutsu, Cursed Energy, or Autobiographies on retired sorcerers.

Turning from the back cover, in red bold letters his purple eyes reads: Learning Sign Language for your students. Written by... sounds like a random Japanese woman with some fancy doctor degree.

Narrow eyes widen as confusing experiences lingering in his memory begin to click and warp into sense.

On the third day of his first year, he remembers cringing at Gojo’s attempt to speak random rice ball ingredients to him. That was his “way” of trying to connect with him. Offended, Inumaki wrote him off and ignored any potential conversation to have with him at that point.

Around early June, he walked up to see Gojo silently greeting him with fluid movements of his hands and fingers. As fluent as someone who been signing JSL for several years. Was that the reason he stopped trying to conversate with him three weeks prior?

Taken back, Inumaki slowly signed back, leading to having their first full conversation ever. It ended with Gojo patting him on the shoulder and Inumaki turning to watch his goofy sensei walk off in a cheerful mood.

Inumaki caresses the book and notices the personal sticky notes poking out of many pages. He looks behind him to see Panda pre-occupied. Inumaki sets the book in his bag, setting it aside to read through later. He shakes his head and stares at the half empty shelve for a long moment before continuing his duty.

Panda was busy distracting himself with Satoru’s doodads instead of effectively cleaning out his office. Throw in the fact that it was a journey to simply carry things that would have taken him a few seconds to put away had he been in his original big body. But the funeral starts in a few hours so he has to stop monkeying around soon.

Panda frowned. There was barely any time to “monkey around” ever since Satoru died. It seems like when he died, he took the fun and security with him. Did most of his friends grow to be so powerful from the battle on Shinjuku? Sure, they’re practically monsters at this point.

But for a long time, Satoru’s level of strength gave them breathing room to take off the sorcerer mask sometimes. Now that he’s gone, there was no room to be a kid anymore. His friends are teenagers cursed with adult responsibilities; the rest of their adolescence stripped away like a bloody band aid.

He’s a panda so he doesn’t really understand that feeling. However, he sees it with the forced smiles he’s greeted one second with frowns pulling them down moments after. Desensitized responses they all show in public contrasted with the quiet weeping he hears going on late night campus walks. It will always give him emotional whiplash.

Life after Satoru was a canvas board of still grey with overwhelming dark blue surrounding it.

Panda opens a brown box to see a bunch of stuffing peeking out. Dropping down, he turns the box around to see in black marker: Spare stuffing for Panda.

Panda releases a deep sigh. He feels his stitches ache all over.

Loose blue strains spills over the wholesome photo of her and Gojo that day. A day where her biggest concern was not looking stupid in front of the cute, strong, funny teacher at the Tokyo campus of Jujutsu High. A day where her classmates bickered with coal still in their eyes. A day when Mai was cranky and alive. When Mechamaru...

Miwa shuts her eyes as her tears soaks her eyelashes. Blurry eyes open to take in the photo that seem like centuries ago, when it was only since September. Gojo’s peace sign and shared chipper smiles fill the holes in Miwa’s heart for a moment. Her thumbs zoom in on Gojo and lingers over his tall figure dominating most of the selfie.

A small smile forms behind the isolated blues. “Gojo...”

Kusakabe groans, rubbing the back of his head whenever his mind wanders to that blue eyed trouble maker. There were days he enjoyed the consistent stillness without that loudmouth breaking it. Then there were others where the silence was drowning; his cheery, obnoxious voice completely void to lift up everyone’s spirits when needed. Today was one of those days.

Twirling his toothpick, he remembers the countless times Gojo annoyed the hell out of him with his comments and pranks. There wasn't a day where he wouldn’t drag one of the Jujutsu faculty and staff in his shenanigans. So bad that one-time Gojo went too far and it ended with Kusakabe wishing he was dead.

Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

Kusakabe looks up at the passing clouds trailing through the blue. For such a day for Jujutsu High, the sky didn’t reflect the collective feeling. The man bats his eyes as the ambient nature lures him into a still mind.

“Kusakabe!? Are we serious right now!?” One of the higher ups barked.

Gojo shakes his head, “Is there ever a day you guys don’t bitch about--”

“I agree that sending me would be a horrible idea.” Kusakabe interrupted. Gojo turns to see Kusakabe wearing a “Yes sir. No sir.” attitude. He knew he was lying.

Kusakabe has been looking forward to a sorcerer mission like this ever since he met him. A mission where all you do is investigate and gather information, no risking your life, no fighting at all really. More like a trip out on Japan’s quiet grassy countryside with a side quest of being an undercover sorcerer representing Jujutsu High.

Gojo steps forward. “Kusakabe is our best grade 1 sorcerer. He’s no fighter and a nice guy for the most part. He would be better to talk to lame country folk than I am...”

The elders remain silent. Kusakabe can feel the tension rising. “Gojo, you don’t have to--”

“I got too much other shit going on to do some boring mission in the countryside. If you send me instead of him then you guys are more senile than I thought.”

“Gojo!” Kusakabe quickly turned to the many shoji screens hiding the higher up’s bodies. The fact that he had no idea how they were reacting put his worry in overdrive.

One of the elders sighs, “We don’t feel like arguing with you on this. If you truly think Kusakabe of all people would fit this mission then so be it. But if he fails this, he will suffer the consequences. His mistakes are not on us.”

“When is it ever on you?” Gojo bounced back.

“Dismissed.” The other elder said.

Once they left the room, Gojo wraps his arms around Kusakabe shoulders and bellowed out his carefree laugh. “Don’t forget to bring me back some gifts. You owe me afterall.”

Kusakabe lowers his head away from the blue and moving white to face the cracked, washed solid grey.

His heart didn’t ache for Gojo. Tears didn’t trail down for him either. But the crumbs of memories made him appreciate the little explosive highlights he gave his boring, uneventful life. Like those popping candies that felt like fireworks in your mouth.

Yeah, Gojo was those popping rock candies.

Hakari holds the stack of yen as the various fights go on the multiple T.V. screens. Licking his thumb, he counts through the overwhelming amounts of money from his lucky bets. Although he’s been hanging around Jujutsu High more as of recent, lately everything has been about Gojo, his death and preparing for his funeral. All of the mope and serious mumbo jumbo was getting to Hakari, so he retreated to his fight club.

“When does it start?” Kirara asked, her pink french tips gently caressing his ashy blonde thick hair.

Hakari shrugs, “Donno. Seems like everyone is too depressed to talk n’ shit.”

Banding up the yen, Hakari montages the times Gojo left him feeling the fever he often seeks out of many.

Training him so hard he puked the rest of that day. Pushing him to go after Kirara and teasing him about his crush. Giving him shitty relationship advice. That one time they did that silly pose where they flashed their teeth then flexed their muscles for the camera. Cheating Gojo out of thousands of yen over a wrong move during Blackjack.

Hakari traces the numbers of the yen, smirking over the fun times that crazy man with the blindfold gave him.

Two streaks of damp wet are noticed when the wind sway past Ijichi’s jawline. Another dam of woe threatens to burst until he quickly wipes his sore undereye. He doesn’t even know why he’s getting so emotional over someone who and still--

Not sill. Damnit brain, get with the program.

Someone who used to bully him relentlessly ever since they were kids up until just a few weeks ago. To him, Gojo was nothing but...

Why are you still here? Need me to punch you to get the message?

You failed you’re driving test again? You can’t even do that? Go join a local circus at this point.

Shoko is out of your league, man. You don’t even have the balls to talk to her. How can you expect her to like you.

Ijichi, don’t piss me off.

A guy like that doesn’t deserve his tears. Nope, not at all...

The only person I trust to catch me if I fall is me and, um, Ijichi I think.

Wanna go out for some hot cocoa? It’s freezing today.

Well, well, well. You finally took Shoko out for dinner, huh? I guess the world is ending soon. So, how did it go?

Look, Ijichi may be a wet doormat but he’ll get things done for us and the students. C’mon guys, give him more credit than that.

Ijichi huffs a stuttered breath. Nope. Nope. No. No. No--

You’re the man I trust the most. That’s the only reason I need.

Ijichi breaks down. A new coat of tears staining his dry skin. His wrung heart soaked again with a grief too complex to explain.

Cigarette smoke brush past Shoko’s dry, dull brown hair. No tears had nor will shed for her childhood friend. She wasn’t a crier, even when she was little. When her father died a long time ago, not one tear dropped.

Instead, there was heavy rocks that magically weighed in her chest. A weight too heavy for her slim body to carry. A weight she dismisses publicly but can’t ignore in private. So, in true Shoko fashion, she grabs a pack of ciggies and breaks her 11th vow to never smoke again. Looking out on the campus field, her eyes strain with stress and lack of sleep. Her heavy heart was to blame this time.

“Can’t believe I’m being peer pressured right now.” Gojo says in a jokingly nervous tone.

Shoko lifts up the cigarette, unlit and waiting. “I’m tired of being “The Smoker Chick” of our school. It’s always so lonely smoking by myself.”

“Regardless if I smoke this or not, you’ll always be “The Smoker Chick”.”

“Gojo please.”

Gojo sighs and contemplates the nicotine stick itching to ruin someone’s lungs. He was far from being a goody too shoes but smoking wasn’t his thing.

“You’ll look so cool doing it. It’ll just be between us.” Shoko persisted.

Gojo rolled his eyes and snatched the cig from her. He placed it between his perfect, straight whites and waited a moment before turning to Shoko. Shoko stood in disbelief until Gojo snapped his fingers in front of her.

“Well hurry up and light it!” Shoko quickly digs in her pocket and lights the white end. It takes a few seconds for the cigarette to burn before smoke waves out of the tip. Gojo inhales then blows out a line of smoke effortlessly. Shoko gasps, “How did you not cough?”

“Duh! Look who you’re talking to.”

“Oh...yeah. Right.”

The juxtaposition of Gojo’s divine-like aura and angelic appearance partaking in the trashy, commoner act of smoking was a sight to behold. Almost like he gave a middle finger to his reputation as the strongest sorcerer and decided to be a normal dude for once. Shoko remembers judging Gojo’s bougie attitude during freshman year. She saw his snobbish nature a mile away before he even introduced himself to the class. One thing about Gojo though, he never failed to surprise her with his willingness to bring himself down from heaven.

Shoko is dazed by Gojo puffing out a few quick smokes before she is presented a hit.

“This shit tastes awful. How do you smoke these every thirty minutes?” Gojo barfed his tongue out.

Shoko giggles and breathes in the loud smoke that always hugs her brain. “Helps me stay numb to the bad stuff in the world.”

Although that was Gojo’s first and last time ever smoking, their budding friendship springs tenfold.

Shoko was back at that same spot they wasted their youth a decade and so ago. Only there was no arrogant, annoying but funny classmate to secretly cast her judgement on anymore. What only remains is a cigarette and a woman who had an uneventful life outside of being a sidekick to Gojo’s adventures.

She takes another hit, her tongue recoils at the cigarette taste. Now she gets what he meant back then.

The drizzling rain show no signs of giving nature a break from the drab, cold atmosphere. Megumi lays against his cushioned but firm mattress, his brain refusing to move his body. Tears quietly drip down to damp the grey sheets, adding to the collection of wet dots on his bed. The air condition overpowered the pitter-patter behind the window. The dull sound clearing his head to reflect his whirlwind called life these past couple months.

Countless memories punched his mind. There was so many foggy, forgettable memories of Gojo growing up. His attempt to give them meaning and higher resolution gave him a slight headache.

First his sister then--

Gojo.

He saw it while being a few feet away; Gojo’s blood forming small puddles, leaving his body with his life tagging along. The tired whisper of “My bad, Megumi.” a few moments before his eyes went still. He couldn’t even respond due to that curse going on about some dumb speech after almost getting both of them killed.

Sukuna.

Heat overwhelmed his body as soon as the name rung. He hates him. He hates him. He hates him. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Red and blue hatred evolves into purple flames the longer it sits, burns, and melds. Never has he felt so much rage off a name alone.

Blood on his hands without the purpose and maliciousness to back it up. Sukuna was gone but the damage will never fade away. It’s here to overstay it’s welcome and haunt him forever.

“Good riddance.” Maki lets the intrusive thoughts travel to whispers.

Alone in the tidy bathroom, she struggles to create grief over someone that just annoyed her most of the time. The only one she believes deserved her grief was her sister, Mai.

Don’t get her wrong, she respected the hell out of Gojo’s strength. But the only solid memories she has of him is sending her favorite junky snacks whenever it was her time of the month and excused her from class that week.

Other than that, he was like a gnat that wouldn’t get out of your face. Loud for no reason. Failed to read the room. Teased her about Yuta, even during the time he went to Africa. Pestering her about dumb school shit. Yeah, that’s the Gojo she knows. Not this revisionist history almost everyone on campus is crafting for him now that the bastard is gone gone.

Yuta and Gojo had a closer relationship than others students, which unfortunately, makes him stricken with the depressing “Gojo is gone” epidemic too. But compared to him and the Jujutsu High students and staff, he actually has good reason to grieve.

It’s just too overwhelming to deal with for more than an hour. She had to get a breather from seeing someone she cares about so defeated emotionally. She seen Yuta cry before but not to this extent, not this long either.

Another round of sobs scolds her indifference to Gojo as they breakthrough the thick bathroom door. Maki looks down and moves her toes against the maroon bathroom rug to build back her patience and tolerance. Letting out a short breath, she pushes herself off the sink and keeps her stoic disposition.

A blank, emotionally collected expression that means well beneath the surface.

Yuta cries drag out as he lays on the floor. Maki shifts when she places a palm against his back, not sure how to handle his anguish and piercing sobs.

Thankfully, Yuta’s dorm was positioned to be isolated at the end of the hall. The other male student's dorms are spaced out from each other so he didn’t have any direct neighbors. But still, his mourning was loud enough to hear muffles across his front door.

“Yuta.” Maki said.

She didn’t know what to say exactly. She, like many other Zenins, weren’t the best when it came to nurturing. Even though she feels nothing about Gojo dying, she feels everything seeing her best friend so ...devastated.

Yuta looks up at her for a long moment, tears trailing by the second, lips quivering, throat tight with words he can no longer say to his sensei. He hugs her waist and cries into her chest.

“I used him, Maki. He’s gone and the first thing I did was use him. It should have been--”

“Stop. Don’t finish that. It shouldn’t have been anyone else instead. He did what he had to do for us to win.” Maki comforted. Yuta shakes his head, unable to accept logical reasoning.

“I-I-I...” He sucks in his breath after every attempt to speak. "I didn’t even get to say--”

Yuta hurls, his mouth seconds away from bursting open. Maki quickly goes for the bucket and puts it under his head. He pukes for the third time today, projecting out yesterday's lunch and dinner that he ate too little of. Maki sighs and pats his back to get him to vomit it all out. Ever since he returned back to his original body, Yuta has been puking whenever he thinks about the most fucked-up stunt he ever pulled.

Once Yuta was done, he sobs tamed down to a string of lingering cries. He didn’t bother to change his shirt or wipe the corners of his mouth. Maki grabbed a tissue and cleaned up the small bits of vomit around his mouth. She heads back into the bathroom to clean out the half-filled blue bucket yet again.

Looking up, he sees a framed picture of him and Gojo during his time in Africa. Gojo had him in a headlock whilst making him laugh about something he hates that he can’t remember. Yuta heart swells, the picture clearly being taken off guard by Miguel. Another wave of sorrow drowns him the longer he stares at Gojo in his white dress shirt, sunglasses, alive and well...

Yuta face scrunches, a fresh sting of tears falling down. He lays down on the cold floor, allowing the grief to lure him to sleep.

Yuji rubs over his face, a stubborn migraine pinching his thoughts. Snot leaking to tease the tip of his tongue. Eyes in desperate need of a bottle of eyedrops to make up for the tiny streams it released the past few hours. His mind was active but his body was lazy, lying on his bed through the whole morning. But he had to get this eulogy done, if nothing else.

“He was unserious when things were tense. He trolled...whether you were a man, woman, or child. He’d... He’d... He-- dammit!”

He turns on his stomach and picks up the paper again. He reads over the line again, then two more times to write it on his memory.

“Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you only to leave with your house slippers moments later.”

Again.

“Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you only to leave with your house slippers moments later.” Yuji groans.

“Don’t say hell, that might not fly well.” He scolded himself.

Yuji sets the paper on his nightstand so his brain can have a break. He read over his eulogy so many times that his mind is starting to slip with the constructed presentation he went over since last night. It doesn’t help that throughout this practicing, he’s been crying whenever he gets lost in thought about Gojo-sensei. Maybe he needs to cool down a bit.

On the edge of his window sits one of Gojo’s many blindfolds. Yuji reaches over with minimal effort and caress the fabric. Black cotton comforts his fingertips while Yuji gives this simple thing a soft gaze. The very first thing he noticed about that strange looking man on that life changing night.

Scenes of warm and fun premiere from his memory bank, each starring Gojo sensei. Smiles to laughter with jokes, ease, and good food in between.

Sensei steals a fry from Nobara’s--

Sliced open. Blood dripping down white baggy pants and black combat slippers. Torso on the ground. Harsh ice blue still yet soft. Live and unskippable. Live with no rewinds. Sukuna’s joy celebrated in the wrong body. No more rough ruffles on the head. No more boring lessons elevated by high-energy humor and multiple tangents of his glory days.

Yuji winces and attempts to rub out the migraine and horrible memories intruding the good. There is a knock on the door. “You’re not naked are you?” Nobara voice is heard from behind the door.

Yuji shakes his head as if Nobara could see. “No.”

Nobara walks in, remnants of rain dripping from her raincoat. She had a blank face, her usual energy turned down a few notches. “Hey.”

Yuji barely lifts up a wave, still smoothing out his nerves. “Hi.”

“So everyone is either busy or depressed so you’re my last hope around here.” Nobara confessed. Yuji lifted up the eulogy, “Can’t. Too busy.”

Nobara sucks her teeth then observes Yuji’s face. “You look like you’re more in the too depressed camp than the too busy one.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Nobara walks over and grabs the eulogy. Yuji lays back down, “Since you’re here, I need to clarify one last thing for my speech. Did sensei buy you those tampon things or those purple diapers?”

Nobara stops reading and shoots him a look. “Why are you broadcasting my period for the whole Jujutsu High to hear?”

“It’s supposed to be one of the many things Gojo did for us as students. I couldn’t think of anything else, cut me some slack.”

Nobara sighs, “He used to get me pain meds and a bunch of tampons whenever my cramps would go into overdrive. And it’s called pads, not purple diapers.”

Yuji nodded and formed a curve of a smile. “Thanks, Kugisaki.”

“I could go and hang out with some girls I know from other schools but it looks like the rain is getting worse. What time is the funeral anyway?”

“It’s in four hours, around two I think.”

Nobara nodded, “Guess I’ll just go back to my dorm and sulk like everyone else. See you later.” She gets off to leave. “Oh, save me a seat too.”

Yuji nodded with a frown, not having enough optimism left to give fake smiles. “Sure, see you.”

Alone again, Yuji picks up the worn white sheet with creases and wrinkles. Headache tamed, he decides to recite again. You can never be too polished.

“Gojo-sensei was a...”

Todo sheds single strings of tears while many games of ping pong against Gojo replays in his mind. Besides Mei Mei, Gojo was his common partner in his favorite sport. Now that he’s gone, he had no one to slam “cheating” allegations to in an intense game during the humid, long summer afternoons.

Ui Ui sniffles as he looks down, avoiding the blunt reality of the casket up ahead. He wasn’t the biggest acquaintance of Gojo but a few moments of the past built a friendly nature between them. His briberies of fried bananas to get direct access to Mei Mei. Being a one-man audience (he slept through his blindfold) for spoken word poetry he wrote about his sister when no one else bothered to hear. Gojo never failed to match his childish energy when other adults or big kids were “too busy” to entertain him. The boy’s quiet sniffles prompted a head rub from his older sibling.

The pointy ends of Mei Mei’s red nails pierce through her left palm. Her right palm comforts the juvenile emotions of her baby brother. Her face remains calm but blue fire bursts in her heart.

1.5 Million yen. All that rich fuck had to do is pay me 1.5 million yen back and what does he do? Fuck around and die. Hmph! He probably died to cheap his way out of his debt. Damn you Satoru Gojo. Damn him.

Ino stood with his ski-mask firm against his chest, looking forward with respect. Gojo was more like an older brother than a co-worker. Despite the pain he feels, he refuses to look away from the body.

Momo stands next to Miwa, people watching the many guests standing in line to pay their personal respects to the body. As soon as she came, she made sure to grab the nearest seat and keep her head down. Dead bodies always freaked her out. People always assumed she be fine with that kind of stuff since she gives “witchy” vibes but no way. It was the way the body just sat there, all sense of spark or fire vanished. Also, that silly fear that a dead body will raise and walk towards her. God, she hopes they close the casket soon.

Kirara hugs on to Hakari’s arm as she quietly weeps to herself. Hakari wasn’t the “comforting” type but all she needs from him was his arm and shoulder for support. During the time it was her vs. the conservative Jujutsu World when she decided to transition, Gojo was one of the few who had her back. She has his support from the moment she began dressing feminine all the way to the moment she began going by Kirara. It wasn’t a problem for Gojo to call her by her true name right away since he thought her dead name was forgettable as hell.

Sure, Gojo wasn’t perfect and had his moments where his views were a bit dated, but he was willing to own up to his mistakes and learn for the better. She’ll never forget the stereotypical girly shit he would buy her because he didn’t know her personal taste that well, not that she even knew at the time either. Corny gifts and unconditional support are why her mascara and eyeliner were messy all around her under eye.

Most attendees dressed in purple while others sulked in black. Ages from teen to end of the road mingled together within a pot of grief, visible respect, and reservation. Some felt internal relief that the bastard was gone. Some cried harder than they would if their actual father died.

Gojo lied still in a polished classic black casket, wearing a blank emotion that he would hate everyone to see. His cut, pieced back by Shoko, was barely noticeable. If you weren’t given the details of his death, you’d probably would question how he died. The line to view his body was beginning to reach its end, preparing everyone to mentally checkout for an hour and a half.

A collected Megumi stared at Gojo in a distracted haze. It was stupid, but he felt like Gojo was playing some sick prank and he’s going to pop out and yell some stupid shit any second now. The longer he stares at the body’s lack of movement, the confirmation rings hollow in his mind. Thankfully Nobara and Yuji kept to themselves, because he’s not in the mood to make idle small talk to take their mind off the obvious.

Yuta’s sorrow could be heard faintly throughout the large quiet space but not loud enough to distract from the ceremony. His tears took all of the moisture from his face, leaving him paler than usual. Messy black hair clashed with his neat tux that took forever to fit him in. It was a miracle for Maki to get him in that, let alone bring him here.

It was a tough sight to see as Yuta was now regarded as the strongest sorcerer of the upcoming generation. Yuta usually had a friendly, shy demeanor around his peers while being focused and stoic during battle. It was rare to see such a rock morph into glass, his pieces laid for the whole institution to see.

Yuta could care less, the repercussions of his public image being in an awkward, pitiful state wasn’t even a thought in the thick of his pain. He could repair that with time and his rapid growing reputation. This is the last time he’ll ever see Gojo-sensei and his heart can’t take it.

Throughout most of the service, Yuji idly stares at Gojo-sensei’s memorial card. A portrait of him wearing a bright, goofy smile placed above the December 7th, 1989 - December 25th, 2018 felt like visual whiplash. Yet, he kept staring at it until a microphoned call of his name lifts his head up.

“Itadori-kun, are you still going to read your eulogy for us today?” Ijichi directs, slightly confused of Yuji’s zoned out state.

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Just...” Yuji grabs the piece of paper from Nobara’s lap and scoots through the aisle. He walks up to the podium, feeling stares and invisible opinions hover over his back. He gently grabs the mic from Ijichi and sets his eulogy across his face.

Looking up, the stares feel more intense as the rows and rows of straight-faces set social anxiety in his stomach. It was weird, he usually had no problem speaking publicly to an audience, he was a social butterfly after all. Funerals love throwing everyone’s vibe off, even a generally confident one like his, he assumes.

“Um, hi guys—hi everyone.”

He quickly goes over the first line to trigger his trained memory to make the speech sound fluent and genuine. He prays to whoever is listening to not let his mind go blank at a time like this.

“Gojo sensei was a goofball.”

The silence screams for a moment as the opening line registers in everyone’s minds. A few chuckle, most keep their solemn unimpressed looks, while others are not even on this planet. Yuji clears his throat.

“He was unserious when things were tense. He trolled you whether you were a man, woman, or child. Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you, only to leave with your house slippers moments later.” Many students laughed at the last comment. Yuji looks up and chuckles along, a confidence block stacked.

“He wasn’t a teacher who sugar-coated things, his words were more salt-coated. It stings from being so blunt, but it was needed in order for you to have more flavor.” Yuji takes a quick scan and sees that more people are in tuned with his words. Second block stacked.

“Growing up, I only had my grandfather for family. So while I kinda knew what it was like to have a dad, I spent a good portion of my life taking care of him during his last years so I forgot what it felt like. Gojo reminded me of that feeling.”

“He gave life advice outside of teaching. He would take us out for ice cream after missions. One time, he bought those weird tampon things and sea salt caramel ice cream for Nobara during her...y’know.” Nobara gives him a look after he shoots a nervous chuckle her way.

“He would walk Megumi’s dogs on Saturday mornings. He’d crack a joke in sign that only Inumaki-senpai would understand. He was tough on me, Hakari-senpai, and Okkotsu-senpai during training because he wanted us to take advantage of the potential we couldn’t see. He was...”

Yuji looks up to see Yuta staring at him with teary but curious eyes, desperate to know what he’s about to lay on the crowd next. Yuji directs a small, sympathetic smile at him then looks down.

“He was our constant entertainment during the long, boring hours of our jobs. He unlocked the laughter and ease that we often hid to condition ourselves so we could endure the next mission. He made hell feel like home. He was our Gojo-sensei when the world just saw him as Gojo Satoru.”

Tears don’t hold back on some folks faces. What they expected to be a generic but appropriate eulogy turned out to be an off-beat, heartfelt, kinda corny eulogy written by a dude who loved his teacher. A rare case of a dude who isn’t clever with words evoking more emotions out of a crowd more than any writer ever could.

“I’m sure some of you struggle to move forward with this loss. Some of you may simply be here to pay respects and move on with their lives preferably without sensei. Or you may be like me, someone just going through the motions and may not know what to do, say, think, or feel. But Gojo-sensei is gone and all we can do is reflect on the echos of his existence.”

Yuji lets out a deep breath, satisfied to have gotten through his eulogy, the weight off his shoulders. His eyes flickers to see many nodding at his last statement. He scans through his last sentence and nods to himself to bring it home.

“Thank you, Gojo-sensei, for being the goofball with the blindfold and thank you all for listening.” Everyone except the elders clapped for Yuji, moved by his honest words and pure approach. Yuji didn’t register the applause nor Ijichi’s transition to the next segment since his heart was pounding against his left chest.

There was another wrinkle added to the eulogy when he goes to sits back down. He stares at his knees to contemplate his social triumph. Nobara looks at him and pats his upper back while Megumi simply gives him a blank look, jailing his “Good job.”. Yuji breathes deep through his nose and gives himself little nods, back in his own world to process those past few minutes.

The rest of the service goes smoothly, time moving quicker due to Yuji black flashing through the seemingly unbreakable ice. After the main service, many students and staff agreed to meet at the school yard where the funeral bonfire repast will be held.

While Gojo was being cremated, the bonfire turned out to be a lively celebration of life after so much grief wrung at the service. Snow trinkled down amongst the light conversations, coping dark humor, taste bud-rising food and drinks, and tear stains. Taking a break entertaining his peers, Yuji looked up to admire the floating ice. His irises went up and down, low right and high left, no different from when he saw snow as a kid. Laughter and smiles were behind Yuji, but all he can feel was the snow nurturing the child he locked away.

Ashes leave out of the hands of many, gliding above the flowers revived by spring. Cherry blossom petals dance with Gojo in the gentle wind. The early days of April was always Gojo’s favorite time of the year, it was only fitting that his departure was during its peak.

The new year of Jujutsu High begins without the blindfolded goofball to kick it off with overwhelming enthusiasm and junior high-level jokes. Second years, third years, and even the students that graduated are moving forward after months of mental detours. Now, there was a fresh set of first years oblivious to the horrors and traumas that awaits them. It’s a pity they won’t have that funny man in the sunglasses to help them endure their next twelve months of hell.

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ladyazurith · 2 days ago

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I was wondering if you planned to do an analysis of what happened in Trey's dream? I enjoyed the one you wrote about Cater's and the analysis you did on Cater over all. The part about Trey and Cater being more like coworkers than friends, wasn't something I had thought about before, but it does seem to hold true. I know a lot of people were hoping for some emotional scene between Cater and Trey. Ace seemed to have stole the show on that one. But I did get the coworker vibe in Trey's dream. He was far more focused on Riddle and Che'nya who I would see as his 'real' friends and Cater was more of a footnote.

I wanted to hear your take on it if I could? If not I understand. You seem far more focused on Cater than the other characters.

I hadn't intended to do a thorough analysis of Trey's dream. (Honestly, i didn't think my one on Cater's was that thorough) But I do agree the 'coworker' vibes continued in Trey's dream. To tell the truth, I'm more interested in what we saw happen between Ace and Cater than I am in anything to do with Trey's dream. BUT since you asked I'll note a few things that I picked out.

First, the big thing is that Trey wasn't picked by Riddle to be his dorm leader, he got the position by vote. Honestly, I always assumed like I'm sure most of the fandom did that he was tasked with it by Riddle because of their history. And it does seem he got the role because of his connection to Riddle but only because of how much he vouched for him. Came across to me like he was basically Riddle's hype man when he took over as Dorm Leader.

Riddle and Trey's relationship is complicated, and I'm actually kind of cooking up a write up on a theory that has to do with Riddle, Trey and Cater's dynamic, and this only fed into it. A summary though is that I think Riddle favors Cater (he has gone out of his way to make accommodations for Cater, when he's overly strict with most everything else) because Cater isn't someone his mother disapproved of and furthermore since he doesn't eat sweets, he'd never have gotten in trouble with the tart incident if he'd been with Cater instead.

Trey on the other hand wants Riddle's approval, he still carries a lot of his own Trauma for what happened when they were children and the disapproval of Riddle's mother (Remember, Riddle thinks his mother is right about everything, so this has to exist in some fashion in his mind) and seems to almost be testing Trey at times (though he still views him as a close friend, and cares a lot about him).

In turn, I think Trey is resentful of this favoritism, and his poor treatment of Cater in certain situations is born out of this. With the way he dismissed Cater's objections sending him off to paint the roses during the sorting ceremony while he "dealt" with Riddle. Remember there is a LOT OF work Cater puts in around the dorm to cover for his dormmate's mistakes, which Riddle *never* knew about. With Cater not really realizing Riddle might actually favor him.

Anyway, that's a whole thing in and of itself. It would be a very long post with screenshots of interactions, backing up the theory.

Secondly, is that Trey really is just *weird*, he tries so hard to appear normal but ugh, those *things* that made up the rest of Heartslabyul were just out there. But he also has an unhealthy relationship with food. Something we already knew was true for Riddle, Cater, Vil, and Azul. He views it as a source of care and comfort, regardless of its effects on the person consuming it. This is something else that I think is a more complex issue, I can't cover too much here.

But those are my major thoughts on what we got out of Trey's dream. I hope you enjoy :)

#twisted wonderland #twst #heartslabyul #trey clover #cater diamond #riddle rosehearts #che'nya #alchemi alchemivich pinka #twst spoilers #twst chapter 7 spoilers #twst chapter 7 #twst thoughts #trey's dream

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malevoreenthusiast · 12 hours ago

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Parasocial Predator

Hey all! Had this idea earlier and quickly wrote this out. The celebrity I used is Alec Benjamin (a pop artist you should definitely check out), but they’re really interchangeable with any other celebrity. As always, send any requests you may have and let me know how I can improve! Enjoy.

The first thing I need to get out of the way is that in no way is this a parasocial relationship. Alec knows who I am: he’s liked my comments on his posts, I met him at a meet and greet once, and he’s seen me drive through his neighborhood a couple of times when I make sure he stays safe. One time, Alec even responded to one of my comments on Instagram with, “I love you, thanks for the support!” which validates that, in fact, this is a very real relationship that Alec and I have forged over the past several years. He knows who I am—his number one fan—and I know he loves me. Unfortunately, as a celebrity, he can’t show that, so that brings us to today. My plan, which will go off without a hitch, is to meet Alec in his tour bus in order to charm him and finally get together with him.

I’ve followed him on tour, eventually picking out his tour buses on the road and the one in which he stayed after several weeks. It was early afternoon, and he was supposed to perform tonight at a sold out show. He was such a rockstar. That’ll be the second thing I do: congratulate him for being so great. First though, I wanted to ask which of his songs I’ve inspired because I can think of at least ten. He really is such a charmer. A huge portion of the fanbase doesn’t deserve to listen to him and how great he is, which is really unfortunate because Alec is too nice to tell them otherwise. Still, I’ve got a plan to sweep him off his feet and have us be together forever.

I waited quietly in the back of the bus. Alec and his team had stopped at a rest stop somewhere off a highway to go to the bathroom and get snacks and stretch their legs before finishing the journey. This absence from the bus meant that I could easily sneak on when nobody was looking. Honestly, I think Alec knew I would be coming because he left his sweatshirt for me on the seat of the bus. I put it on and took a deep whiff, smelling him so purely that I sighed in deep, deep pleasure. I got lost in his scent so much that I didn’t even notice Alec get back on the bus before anyone else.

“Who are you?” he asked, uncertainty in his voice. I knew he was cheeky, but playing this hard to get so early? Come on, sweetie, you can do better than that!

“Alec!” I bellowed and raced towards him in a hug. “It’s good to see you, gosh, you look so much better in person up-close,” I brushed his hair back and held him close to me. He gave me a wide-eyed look, probably in shock because he didn’t expect to meet me so soon. I get it, though, and I wasn’t going to hold it against him. I would be at a loss for words too if I had suddenly met the love of my life on the tour bus.

I positioned myself at the entrance to the bus so nobody could get in and come between us. Alec’s eyes shifted out the curtained windows, most likely making sure that nobody would see us in this illicit relationship. All of Alec’s trashy fans would probably get too jealous, so it only makes sense that he would make sure that no one else was around who could witness this. The next thing he did was somewhat confusing, but he brought out his phone and dialed a number. I could see he was shaking a little, and my fierce protectiveness for Alec kicked in. I strode up quickly to my beloved and snatched the phone out of his hand. He was calling his security (probably to make sure no one attacked us while we were in here), and he was scared as a lamb!

“Oh, Alec,” I hugged him tight, smelling him more closely now, “it’s okay, let me take care of you. Here, I have just the thing.”

Now, before I tell you what I was about to do, let me explain myself. Alec is an amazing singer/songwriter, and the world doesn’t appreciate him as well as I do. Alec is also on the smaller side, so many dangerous things could hurt him and impact his ability to do what he most loves after me: music. To this end, I thought: “what better way to protect my love than keep him close to me at all times?” So, on that thought, I kissed him softly on the mouth and stretched my jaw over and around his head. He instantly started wildly thrashing, probably because my baby was excited to be in my stomach. I gulped heavily, bunching his shoulders up and sending them down my gullet. I could feel him yell with what I assumed was pleasure and excitement at being in his new boyfriend’s belly. My saliva soaked through his clothes, as admittedly, I had been wanting to do this for several years now, ever since I first saw him in concert. Now that my dreams had come true and he wanted to be in a relationship with me, I could finally do this! I swallowed again, sending Alec’s small torso down into my mouth. He really wasn’t that big (which is why he needed someone larger than him—me—to protect him), but he fit perfectly in my gut. I could already feel his head and shoulders spill into my stomach chamber, which felt really nice. Alec was wriggling already from the inside of my gut, unable to keep his excitement in, most likely. I choked down more of him quickly, as the position he was in was probably making some blood rush towards his head, and I was not going to facilitate any misfortune upon my sweet angel of a boyfriend. Slurping up his legs like noodles, I took off Alec’s shoes and gulped the rest of the singer into my stomach. It ballooned out heavily, but my six pack was something I was more than okay with parting with if it meant I got to be next to Alec at all times of the day. Alec’s sweatshirt clung on to my chest, but my belly was now far too big to be contained by the piece of clothing. Still, I wore it happily, knowing it was a gift from Alec.

“What are you doing?” Alec shouted from inside. “Let me go! Please!”

I rubbed my belly and wore a pained expression. My sweet angel didn’t realize that this was for the best for him right now. Even though Alec was squirming around, making the heft of my gut sway and wobble slightly, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderfully he looked attached to my middle. Though, all of his movements were kicking up a lot of gas.

BBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP “---Sweetheart, please,” I chided. “Calm down in there. Let’s get you back home, okay?”

Some of you may believe that moving in together this soon is a little crazy, and to that I’d simply tell you that you don’t understand the bond Alec and I share. We’re (quite literally) inseparable. I got back into my car that I used to follow him on the road, and, somewhat uncomfortably, I maneuvered around my seat until my belly wasn't pressing up against the steering wheel. This would probably have to be how I drove from now on, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Love is full of sacrifices, you know. I spoke to Alec softly on the way home, asking him about his life so far, childhood memories, and all of the mundane, beautiful things about living. He seemed reluctant to answer, but I chalked that up to him being tired from a long day. Now that he was in my warm, comforting belly though, he would be able to rest peacefully and sleep as much as he wanted.

Along the drive home, I bought some McDonalds, which wasn’t the healthiest for my baby, but on the road, you make do. I swallowed a few of the burgers whole, wrapper and all so Alec could have some dinner in his own tummy while I had mine already in there. Thinking about it now, it would be a little uncomfortable for Alec to be with me while I digested my other food (that’s what happened with my old roommate. He didn’t want Alec living with us, so he had to go), but again, love requires sacrifices. My belly was really noisy with the sounds of gurgling and churning, but I knew Alec wouldn’t digest. Still, that didn’t mean my belly didn’t want to assimilate him into my body. He was simply too important to digest, though. An idle hand rubbed my boyfriend-filled belly for the rest of the night-ride home with pure love and affection.

Getting back to my apartment, I undressed and flopped onto bed with Alec. The movement jostled my stomach heavily, waking him back up. I think he was having a bad dream about being captive and kidnapped, which frightened me tremendously, but that is precisely why Alec is safer in my stomach than the real world. People are crazy out there, and it could’ve easily happened to Alec. I rubbed my belly soothingly and told him time and time again that this was where he belonged, that I would treat him right, and no harm would come to him. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, kissing my own belly and looking forward to Alec and I’s new life together.

#male vore #gay vore #m/m vore #same size vore #vore belly #male pred #male prey #my writing #gay

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