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writing-flower · 2 days ago

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“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”

WARNING: Mention of blood and death.

My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.

I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.

I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.

God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.

Anything, but all that never leads to anything.

Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.

But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.

Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.

Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.

The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.

As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.

Oh wait, that's literally what happened.

And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.

And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.

In this case, the bird.

It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.

Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.

It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.

Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.

My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.

But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.

“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.

I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.

I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.

As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...

Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.

Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.

“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.

I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.

But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.

Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.

"[Name]"

"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.

Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.

"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.

I sigh as I turn around to look at him.

"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.

"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"

A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.

As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.

Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.

And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.

I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.

"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."

Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"

I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."

That wasn't a lie.

Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.

"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.

"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.

Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.

Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.

Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.

What happened? Why am I bleeding?

Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.

It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.

I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.

Please...

I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...

Please...

She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.

But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.

"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.

The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...

[Name] sat up in bed right away.

"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.

She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.

But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.

"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.

If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.

She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.

[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.

On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.

"Miss [Name]"

[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.

"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.

She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.

"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."

She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.

Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.

"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.

And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.

"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."

With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.

It was her birthday and she had to look good.

And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.

NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".

I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).

But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.

Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋

TAGS:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864

#batfam x neglected reader #batfamily x neglected reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily x reader #negligent batfam #yandere dc #yandere batboys #platonic batfam x reader #reader insert #platonic reader #neglected reader #batfamily #batfam dc #batfam #alfred pennyworth

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persevereforahappyending · 2 days ago

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A Legacies Regret |3|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: Murder, Gunshots, Knife Wounds

Word Count: 2.8k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You watched the TV in horror as the news reporter continued to go on about a murder that had taken place earlier in the night, seemingly by Ghostface. You really hoped this was all just a coincidence, you were never that lucky though. You looked over at Tara, despite your argument earlier, your hand instantly found hers when the news came on, almost as if it were natural. If Ghostface was really back then you didn’t care what kind of psycho took up the mantle this time around, you vowed to never let anyone hurt Tara ever again and you intend to honor that.

“Did you know them?” You asked when a picture of two boys who went to college with Tara was shown on screen.

“Yeah,” Tara said mindlessly. She got a little crinkle in her brow, which you always found adorable. “They’re in my film class.”

You furrowed your brow; it seemed the two boys on screen killed one of their professors and had a shrine dedicated to Ghostface. You weren’t sure if those kids were just big fans of the movies and when they saw Tara in their class, they decided to live out some sick fantasy or if they planned it. You wouldn’t put it past one of those psychos who thought it was okay to dress up like a serial killer to stalk the survivors of past attacks and follow them wherever they moved, going so far as to enroll in college with their intended victim.

Whatever the boys’ plans was didn’t matter anymore, considering someone had killed them as well. There didn’t seem to be a lot of info on the two kids’ deaths, but the media seemed to think it was the work of Ghostface. You weren’t sure that had ever happened before, different Ghostface competing against each other. Most Ghostface seemed to work with a partner, even if said partners eventually tried to kill each other they never started off on different sides.

If another Ghostface was out there and actually did kill those kids, you wondered what their play was. You weren’t sure what the plan of the college kids was either, but the shrine seemed to indicate they were just some psycho fans. This other Ghostface though, he could be anyone, if he killed the two boys who seemed intent on taking over the mantle then it was probably because he had something bigger planned. It was still yet to be decided if the new guy had an ego and just didn’t want the competition or if he didn’t want what seemed to be a couple of amateurs getting in his way.

“He was weird,” Tara whispered, breaking you out of your thoughts. “But he was nice.”

Your gaze softened at her words, you knew how hard it was for her to make new friends. You and Sam might have been a tad bit protective of Tara, so much so that Sam wouldn’t let anyone new come into the apartment without being vetted first. Anika was the first exception, even before Ethan, who was chads roommate. It was a long process, usually involving a lot of questioning and Sam glaring. Tara hadn’t met anyone who was willing to put up with that yet though, anyone she talked about from school seemed to just be people she met in class and chatted with.

You never even bothered trying to make new friends, which maybe said more about you than anything, but you weren’t about to wander down that path. Anika seemed to be the exception though, she was Mindy’s girlfriend but always made sure to include you. You weren’t sure how much you’d classify Anika as a friend, it wasn’t like the two of you hung out just the two of you, but she was nice and didn’t seem to have any judgment or opinion about you already formed, you didn’t have to fight for her approval or prove that you were good enough for Tara with her.

“We need to leave,” Sam said, once again breaking your thoughts and what was otherwise an uneasy silence. “Pack your bags.”

“What?” Tara yelled, whipping around to face her sister. “No.”

“We can pick up Chad and Mindy on the way out of town.” You had to give it to Sam for trying to sell the idea, but she should have known that would never work with Tara.

“You can’t do this to me.”

“Tara-”

“No! We don’t even know if this is connected to us.” Tara looked back at you for some support and you opened your mouth, but no words came out. You would always support Tara, no matter what, but even you didn’t believe in coincidences this much. There was a flash of hurt on Tara’s face when you didn’t say anything, making you drop your eyes to the floor.

“Can’t we make sure this is actually him,” Tara pointed at the TV, which was now showing a picture of a Ghostface costume. “Before you completely uproot my life and derail my college education.”

You all jumped and spun around at the sound of a door creaking open. You released a shaky breath when you saw it was just Quinn. She stumbled out of her room, her robe clearly hastily thrown on, she was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with one hand while the other held out a phone to Sam.

“My dad wants to talk to you,” Quinn mumbled sleepily.

“I gotta go,” Sam said to whoever she was talking to before. “Stay together, stay safe, and don’t trust anyone.” You let out a small hum, she had most likely been talking to Mindy or Chad, which hopefully meant they were together, at least that way they’d stand a chance if Ghostface really was back.

Sam cautiously took the phone from Bailey and brought it to her ear. “Detective Bailey?” She asked, almost as if she didn’t fully believe that Quinn’s dad would be on the other end.

You watched Sam as she listened to whatever detective Bailey was telling her; you could see the way Sam’s frown only deepened with his words. “Okay,” she said. “I’m on my way.” With that she hung up and handed Quinn back her phone.

“What did he say?” Tara asked. Sam didn’t answer as she made her way across the room. “Is Ghostface back?” Sam grabbed her keys from the table by the door and began to slip on her jacket. “Where are you going?” Tara followed after her sister, and you followed after Tara.

“Detective Bailey needs me to come to the station,” Sam finally stopped and answered her sister. “He said they found my ID at the crime scene.” Sam let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair, you couldn’t imagine how exhausting this all was for her.

You didn’t even want to begin to imagine what it meant that Sam’s ID was found at the crime scene. You remembered when Sam lost her ID, she had to spend nearly the whole day at the DMV to get a new one. The two kids could have gotten her ID for some reason, they had class with Tara, but they never had access to the apartment. That meant whoever the new Ghostface was somehow stole Sam’s ID without her ever knowing, whether that was by getting into the apartment or snagging her wallet while she was at work you didn’t know.

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Tara said, grabbing her own jacket.

“No,” Sam said, holding up her hand to keep Tara from following. “You’re staying here.” Sam glanced past Tara at you, silently begging you to agree with her and try and convince Tara to stay.

You opened and closed your mouth a few times and gave Sam an apologetic shrug. “I’ve never had much luck going off solo,” you said. The first time you left Tara’s side last year someone was killed right outside of your place of work, then the second time you yourself were attacked in your own apartment, and then there was the time you and Tara were left at the hospital. If you took anything away from the attacks last year it was that splitting up was never a good idea.

“Safety in numbers, yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam rolled her eyes as she ran a hand through her hair. “Fine,” Sam groaned. “But don’t leave my side,” she pointed her finger at Tara, giving her a knowing look.

You waited for Tara to agree to Sam’s terms, which she quickly did, though not without an eyeroll. The three of you left the apartment, with Sam making sure to lock all the locks and triple checking that everything was in fact locked. Sam didn’t seem to be wasting any time as she rushed down the several flights of stairs, with Tara right behind her and you doing your best to not fall behind.

As soon as you got out into the night you looked both ways, like you always did when you left the apartment. You weren’t even sure what time it was; you had no idea how much sleep you got, all you knew was that the sky was still dark and there were still people walking around.

You stayed close to Tara as Sam led the way. Sam slowly came to a stop and pulled out her phone. You furrowed your brow as you got closer and looked at Sam questioningly when you saw the name on the screen.

“What the hell,” Tara whispered.

“I never deleted his number,” Sam mumbled.

“Ignore it,” you said. You didn’t need to hear Ghostface’s voice over the phone to know he was back, the fact that Sam’s very dead boyfriend was calling her was proof enough for you.

Sam elected to ignore you and swiped to answer the phone. You held in your eye roll, no one ever listened to you, you should have really been used to it at this point. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation once again, but you watched Sam pace back and forth as she threatened whoever this new guy was.

You caught a blur of movement out of the side of your eye, you didn’t wait to see what it was, you just grabbed Tara and yanked her back. You hissed as you felt something slice across your arm. You quickly pulled your arm away, already seeing a stream of blood pouring down your arm.

Your eyes widened when you turned and saw Ghostface raising their knife again. He never got a chance to swing it at you though because Sam dealt a harsh kick to their stomach, then pushed him to the ground. “Run!” she called out.

The three of you took off down the street, not waiting around for him to recover. “There!” Sam pointed at a little bodega at the corner of the street.

The three of you ran across the street, ignoring traffic laws in the process. You didn’t look back, but you were sure Ghostface was already up and chasing after you again. Sam ripped open the door to the bodega, not bothering to apologize as she pushed the patrons that were standing in line back.

“You need to call the police,” Sam said.

There was a lot of shouting and arguing, the customers pushing their way back into line. Everyone went silent when a second later the door was flung open and Ghostface was standing there. You pushed Tara behind you and began nudging her backwards, further into the bodega. One of the men that was standing in line tried standing up to Ghostface, you weren’t sure if he was that confident or if he truly had no idea what he was getting into.

Ghostface didn’t bother entertaining the man though as he quickly swiped his knife across the man’s neck. The owner of the bodega whipped out a shotgun from underneath the counter and aimed it at Ghostface.

“Back here!” Sam called out. You glanced back to see Sam was running to the door at the back of the building. You and Tara followed after her but were quickly stopped as the door was locked. “Keys!” Sam ran back towards the owner, who instantly tossed her the keys.

You stood behind Tara, with Sam in front of her as she tried to unlock the door. You kept your eyes on the commotion at the front of the store. The owner had fired a couple shots, but Ghostface seemed to have ducked behind one of the shelves while the customers all ran out to where it was safe.

“Dammit,” you heard Sam whisper.

You spared a glance back to see her struggling with the lock. You looked back in front of you just as the owner came around the counter and was grabbed by Ghostface. Ghostface quickly overpowered the man, flipping the shotgun around and not hesitating to pull the trigger.

“Move!” you said, grabbing Tara and Sam and pulling them to safety just as Sam got the door unlocked.

You pushed the two of them to the ground, quickly crawling around the shelves as Ghostface fired a few more shots. You raised your hands, trying to cover your head as debris from the shelves fell on you. After going down a few rows you quickly slid behind one of the shelves, the three of you holding your breath and pressing your backs against it.

You glanced to the side, using the holes in the shelf to sneak a peek at Ghostface. You saw him round the corner, his boot crunching the shattered glass on the floor. You quickly pulled your head back and glanced at the girls, Tara was shaking on the floor next to you, you couldn’t help but slide your hand across the floor and intertwine your pinky with hers.

You looked past Tara and met Sam’s eyes. You used your hand not holding Tara’s to point in the direction Ghostface was. Sam nodded and as quietly as she could she reached across the floor a picked up a can. She raised a finger to her lips, and you nodded, giving Tara’s hand a tight squeeze to make her look up at you. You gave her what you hoped was a comforting smile and nodded to follow Sam’s lead.

You waited for Sam’s signal; you tried not to let the fact that all you could hear was Ghostface’s footsteps distract you. You winced and looked down, remembering the cut on your arm, there seemed to still be a nice stream of blood, which was quickly pooling on the ground between your and Tara’s hands.

Sam gestured for you to move. You held in a groan as you got into position, crawling on the floor across broken glass and other debris was not good for your knee. Tara glanced back at you, and you didn’t miss the worry in her eyes, so you gave her a reassuring nod. Then you gave Sam a nod to show that the two of you were ready.

Sam rolled the can under the shelf towards the back of the store. As soon as the noise of the can rumbled against the floor Ghostface fired the gun again. The three of you took the opportunity to run, keeping your heads down below the shelving.

You were about to round the corner of the shelf when you peaked over the top of the shelf, seeing Ghostface turning in your direction. “Down!” you called out, watching as the sisters dropped to the floor.

You dropped to the floor as well, groaning at the strain it took on your knee. You landed on your back and could see the boots of Ghostface as he made his way down the aisle. You shot up from the floor, ignoring the shooting pain in your knee and threw your body into the shelf, tipping it over onto Ghostface.

“Come on!” Sam called out.

You pushed yourself off the shelf, hopping and wincing at the pressure on your knee. You tensed when you felt a hand wrap around your side but instantly relaxed when you realized it was Tara. You put an arm around Tara as she helped you walk out of the bodega. By the time the three of you got outside the police cars were pulling up.

You leaned on Tara as you tried to take the weight off of your knee. It seemed that Ghostface was truly back, and this one had no problem killing anyone who got in his way. You didn’t face this Ghostface head on, but he carried himself different than Amber or Richie ever did, he handled the shotgun almost effortlessly, whoever this guy was, it was clear he knew what he was doing.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrry-lov3 @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #a legacies regret

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seitmai · 9 hours ago

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Ahh many thoughts

“Non-existent,” he had replied with a sad shake of his head. “Same.”

Mood lol

You don’t know that Bob Floyd doesn’t require much to fall in love with you. That the paltry moments between physical encounters is plenty for love to flourish for him. That the handful of soft touches, the smiles, the little laughs…they are enough. The way you pat his cheek after you brush a chaste kiss there once you’re dressed and about to leave his place. The time you slid his glasses on his face, then kissed the tip of his nose.

🥹🥹🥹

(A therapist once posited that you’re this way because of your own childhood: the only child of two career Army parents. Your chaotic formative years—bouncing around the world, unable to set roots, sometimes even shifted from one parent to another due to conflicting deployments—left you with a wound, your therapist suggested. Disliking having a mirror held up to yourself, you just ghosted said therapist and never dug into that part of your internal makeup again).

Hahah the last sentence cracked me up 😂

You canvass the Hard Deck for a month. Take in all the fly boys and consider the fly girls too.

One has to make an informed decision 🤷🏻‍♀️

Not the sort of man you’d go for, usually. Quiet, reserved. Hardly ever drinks but gets in on the sing-alongs. Plays pool when someone needs an opponent. Is often the designated driver, and you smile when you see his bemused frustration when he steers a fellow Dagger, drunk and stumbling, out the door and safely home. He’s so stable and pulled-together. You bet he’s never cheated on a girl or stolen her car. Not your type at all.

This would exactly be the guy I go for hahah

He’s good-looking though, in a quiet way. Ditch the shitty Navy-issued glasses, muss up his hair a little, and he’d be downright handsome.

Facts

The third encounter is…wonderful. It’s like Bob was homing in on you, treating you like one of his weapon systems. Calibrating you. Figuring out what you like and doing more of that, seeing what you don’t respond to and never doing it again. Which makes it sound cold, how he figures you out, but Bob is so damned warm. Warm and sweet and considerate, and he grins at you and laughs with you, and it’d be so easy to fall for him—

Not the calibrating 🤭

He’s usually so secure in himself, but he has a small crisis of confidence. He wonders what he lacks—what makes him a good hook-up but not a good boyfriend? If he could just show you…if he could take you out on a proper date. Buy you flowers, buy you dinner, take you for a moonlit stroll along the beach. If he could cook for you, show you that he’s not that useless breed of man who can’t or won’t do homey tasks. If he could take care of you when you’re sick, be a sounding board when you rage…

He is desperate to be a fixture in her life 🥺

It never occurred to Bob before, but he adds it to his list of sexual acts: have you sit on his face and smother him with your pussy.

It's on his to do list 🤭

Bob generally lets you set the tone of your arrangement, but sometimes he has a moment of dominance that makes a wave of desire wash through you so strongly that your knees actually go weak.

🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Of course it was easy to catch feelings for him. He’s perfect, and right now he’s staring at you like he wants to eat you alive.

I mean how can one not?

He laughs, and he shifts his weight onto one arm so the other is free to reach down and grasp your waist. “If you kill me like that, I want how I died mentioned in my obituary, okay?”

Deal 🤝🏻

She smiles, snorts out a light laugh. “Yeah, the two of you are a real fucking vibe, Bob.” Phoenix nods. “Dislocated nose. Slight concussion. Embarrassed. Convinced she murdered you, until I set her straight.”

Haha I can't

“She knocked you out,” Hangman cuts in. “And broke your nose.” “You weren’t moving and there was blood everywhere,” Rooster adds. “She also gave you grade two whiplash,” Phoenix continues. “And it looks like you’ll be sporting a pair of gnarly black eyes by morning.”

And he is gonna wear them like a badge of honor knowing gave it to him 🤭🫡

“She has all these rules. To keep it clean. To keep feelings out, you know?” He lifts his hand again, drops it again—the best version of a shrug he can manage. “I have to think that injuries requiring ambulances is an unwritten rule too.”

This is so funny if he wasn't so defeated

“You ever tell her you wanted to revisit the rules, then?” “No.” Her smile widens. “You’re so fucking dumb, dude.”

Someone had to say it 🤷🏻‍♀️

“There’s a pool about you and Baby on Board.” He sips his own coffee, smiles at you. “I want to know if I’m out money or if I have a payday coming.” “You bet on us?” He holds up a hand. “Whoa. All the Daggers bet on you. It wasn’t just me.”

😂😂😂

“It doesn’t matter either way,” you finally answer. “I nearly killed the guy. Is there a pool on that?” Hangman laughs, and he settles in the chair near your bed. “You didn’t nearly kill him. You only lightly injured him. Then Bradley lightly injured you. It’s hilarious.”

This just such a silly situation but those two are so in love they see it in such a different way because they both think they destroyed everything 😂🥲

“If anything, Bob’s gonna have some light duty, but he can do some systems work on the ground.” The smile reappears on his face, and he slyly adds, “and his cred just skyrocketed.” A beat. “The quietest Dagger just got his face rearranged by pussy. He’ll never have to buy his own drink again as long as he lives.”

He's not wrong 😅🤷🏻‍♀️

He looks awful. He looks…well, he looks like he pulled the full weight of an adult woman onto his face, pussy-first.

🤭🤭🤭

But his smile…God, when he sees you, it’s just like Jake said: his poor, mangled face lights up, and his smile is so wide it looks like it might hurt. It hits you again, as it often does, how different he is from your usual type of man. That he loves to see you, is happy when he sees you, even injured. That he doesn’t need you around to fix his life, but he wants you around to just…be with you. Bob is no one that needs fixing; he just wants you there with him.

🥹🥹🥹

“You could make a claim against my insurance, I guess—” “Just a date,” he interrupts. “I just want one date with you.”

He's so cute 🥰

“Hmm.” He releases your hand but pats the space on his bed beside him. “I don’t know if I’d be comfortable making you miserable, honey.”

🥰🥹🥰🥹

“I’d like that.” He shifts a little in the bed, then adds, “maybe around the six-month mark, you could meet my family.” “Would they make me miserable?” you tease. “Oh, they’d make your life a living hell,” he teases back. “My dad would give you this whole disgusting speech about how he always wanted another daughter, my mom would drop hints about my grandma’s engagement ring being set aside for me—”

Awwww so happy for them 🥰

Would love to read about their miserable time with Bob's family if you ever feel up for it 🤗

First Time for Everything

(Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

CW: Angst (friends-with-benefits; idiots in love; talk of bad past relationships; injuries); smut (vague references to sex; oral sex gone awry); 18+ only.

Word Count: 5591

AN: This was requested by an anonymous person!

AN2: Usual caveat - not edited in any way. Likely grammar bugaboos, tense switches, etc.

Bob Floyd would have never thought he’d end up in a friends-with-benefits situation, but there’s a first time for everything.

You’re the one who drives the entire enterprise. A civilian who works at Top Gun, you’re no stranger to the stress of dealing with a multi-billion-dollar fleet of planes. You serve as a liaison between the Navy and the bevy of contractors who build and maintain the planes, and if Bob has to juggle a million complicated systems mid-flight, you have to juggle a million tricky relationships and contracts on the ground.

You put the question to him, late one night at the Hard Deck. Harvard and Yale had been leading a spirited conversation about dry spells, long distant relationships, juggling hook-ups. You and Bob sat there, listening but adding little. But after the other Daggers started to peel away one by one, you had turned to Bob and started asking about his love life.

“Non-existent,” he had replied with a sad shake of his head.

“Same.”

There was a beat of silence—you sipped at your drink; Bob cracked another peanut.

“Any prospects?” you asked.

Another shake of his head.

“Yeah, same here,” you replied.

Then there was another long stretch of silence, but this time you fixed Bob with a curious look. It lasted long enough for him to notice, for him to squirm in his seat—

“So, I have an idea, and you’re totally free to say ‘no,’” you started, and the rest was history.

-----

That was months ago. Bob has gotten to know you much better since then.

Much, much better.

He knows what you feel like. He knows what you taste like. He knows the place on your neck that makes you keen when he puts his mouth to it. He knows exactly where to press the tips of his fingers when they are inside you, where to find the spot that makes your pussy pulse with arousal, that makes your breathing stutter and your eyes roll back, that makes you moan out his name—

He knows how it sounds when you moan his name, and he knows how that affects him in turn, and he knows that he doesn’t know nearly enough about you.

He doesn’t know what you eat for breakfast or how you take your coffee or if you even drink coffee at all. He doesn’t know much about your family, little about your childhood, only a bit about your wants and likes and dislikes.

Because of the rules you laid out that night at the Hard Deck.

Hooking up, friends-with-benefits, you had explained, requires clear lines be drawn. Otherwise, it gets messy. Feelings develop. Misunderstandings happen. People get hurt, sometimes badly.

Your rules keep those lines clearly drawn. No spending the night. No dates beyond sex—no lunch dates or movie nights, no days at the beach together. You call each other and make plans to fuck, and then you part, and that keeps it neat. Clean.

There’s no way you can know it, because you don’t really know Bob either, but there’s no rule on earth you could put in place that would keep him from falling for you anyway. You work with numbers and contracts all day, so you believe in the power of words, in rules.

Which is why your rules turn out to be so important after all: because here he is, hopelessly, painfully in love while you only see him a safe place to release your sexual frustrations. He cannot imagine how much worse it would hurt if those lines didn’t exist.

*****

You have a chronic issue with men.

You pick the worst possible boyfriends. From high school until now, you seem to only attract cheaters, losers, and general assholes. Numerous boyfriends cheated on you. One stole your car. One stole your prescription sleeping pills and got arrested trying to sell them.

It’s not that you’re attracted to assholes, really. The whole bad-boy schtick bores you. It’s more that you like to fix things; you like to turn chaos into order. That trait serves you well at work, untangling all the intricate contracts and orders and rules between the Navy and their contractors.

That trait serves you less well in love, because people often can’t be fixed, at least not without wanting to be fixed. And anyway, the guys you date need deep fucking therapy, not a girlfriend with a fetish for setting order to the universe.

But the therapist did make you aware of your bad patterns with men, so you swear off relationships, which is easy enough.

You still have needs, though.

You canvass the Hard Deck for a month. Take in all the fly boys and consider the fly girls too. Profile them, watched how they acted when they think no one is watching. Watch them sober, watch them drunk. Watch to see which ones are handsy in an unwelcome way, and which ones remain respectful.

It’s Bob Floyd who catches your eye.

He’s good-looking though, in a quiet way. Ditch the shitty Navy-issued glasses, muss up his hair a little, and he’d be downright handsome.

Not the sort of man you’d go for, usually, but you aren’t looking for a boyfriend or a future husband. You just need a zero risk, reliable guy to get off with. It seems like a long shot because Bob is so quiet, but when you put the idea to him, he blinks…then asks you to clarify.

Then he agrees.

-----

That was months ago.

The arrangement works. It’s exactly what you were looking for. Bob Floyd is exactly what you thought he was: reliable, steady. He’s no broken man-child; he’s quiet but that belies a secure sort of masculinity that you’ve never really experienced before. He knows who he is and what he wants, and he isn’t swayed by anything. He’s solid.

He’s also surprising, in some ways.

To be crude about it, in looking for a friend-with-benefits, you needed only two things in a man: a clean bill of health and a hard dick. Bob is able to provide both (he hands you his test results from his latest physical, neatly folded in an envelope the first night you meet up).

He is also able to provide more than that. The first night is a little awkward, but only because you are near-strangers.

The second encounter is better.

It's been months, but for fucks sake, you’re falling for him. It’s embarrassing, because you gave him this tough-girl speech about rules and lines and not catching feelings, and he had nodded seriously and said he understood…and now here you are, the idiot who is catching feelings, who is realizing that maybe your type of man was wrong all along, that maybe who you needed was a reliable, steady man with warmth and blue eyes that swim a bit behind the lens of his thick glasses.

*****

It’s been months, and Bob always worries that this arrangement will end.

One of your rules had been that the arrangement stops the moment one of you find someone else, and Bob always worries that someone else will catch your eye. That you’ll find some man—you are surrounded by handsome, capable men every day, for heaven’s sake—that you find an appealing prospect. Someone you want to sleep with and be with.

Someone better than him.

Bob decides to do what he can, which is to just be the best lover he can be. To be the most considerate, most adventuresome, most giving man you’ve ever taken to bed. It’s all he can do anyway, so he might as well give it his best.

-----

Bob usually lets you lead. He lets you set the schedule, and for every five times you call to hook-up, he calls once.

The arrangement, such as it is, does work for him. For all the angst of his unrequited love for you, the hooking up does relax him. It helps him burn off extra energy, which helps him focus at work.

It also helps him explore things he has never tried before.

With you, Bob has played around with role play: tame scenarios where he gets to pretend that he’s a different person than he is. He has tried a variety of positions that have tested him in both strength and flexibility. If there’s a list of sexual acts, Bob feels like he’s steadily working through it with you.

There’s still one, though…

It’s Fritz who starts the conversation at the Hard Deck. You’re not there, but the guys all are, and the conversation drifts towards the usual locker room talk. Fritz kicks it off by talking about his latest girl. The guys egg him on for details. Bob grins around the rim of his glass, says little, but then Fritz says, “man, when she sits on my face and smothers me in that pussy, I could die happy.”

It never occurred to Bob before, but he adds it to his list of sexual acts: have you sit on his face and smother him with your pussy.

The idea takes hold so fiercely that Bob has to shift in his seat, suddenly warm at the thought of you sitting on him, his mouth on you. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, and he’s sending you a text before he even has a beat to rethink it.

Want to meet up tonight?

You reply within a minute.

Sure. Mine or yours?

Bob pauses and considers. He catches Rooster’s eye and tilts his head at him, gesturing to his roommate for a sidebar. Rooster comes over and stands beside Bob.

“What’s up?” Rooster asks.

“What are your plans for tonight?”

Rooster grins at the question. It’s not exactly a secret that you and Bob are hooking up, though you don’t publicize it either. Bob doesn’t know that his fellow Daggers have a betting pool about how the situation with you will resolve. He’s caught the sly grins between them sometimes and wondered at what they mean.

“You asking if the apartment will be empty?” Rooster asks. “Hell, Baby on Board. Keep it to your room. I don’t care what happens in the privacy of your own room.”

Bob can’t help the blush that heats his face. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, but sometime the two of you get lost in the moment, and more than once, Rooster has sidled up to Bob the day after and clapped him on the back, congratulated him on his prowess—

Rooster catches the man’s discomfort and elbows him in the side. “I was planning on finding myself some companionship for the night,” he finally says. “The place is all yours.”

Bob thanks him, then texts you.

My place?

Another beat before your answer comes. When?

Now.

*****

Bob generally lets you set the tone of your arrangement, but sometimes he has a moment of dominance that makes a wave of desire wash through you so strongly that your knees actually go weak.

Like his text. No softening his final message, just a simple, single word that holds a universe of promise.

Now.

“Yes, sir,” you murmur. You only take a minute to brush your teeth and slip into nicer lingerie, but then you get in your car and head over to his place.

He must have been waiting at the window, watching for you. You aren’t even halfway up the steps to his porch when the door swings open, and there he is.

Of course it was easy to catch feelings for him. He’s perfect, and right now he’s staring at you like he wants to eat you alive.

-----

“Explain it…again,” you manage to get out between kisses. “How does…it work?”

Bob raises himself, props himself on his forearms on either side of your head. His hair is mussed (perfect), and his glasses are on the bedside stand, so his blue eyes peer down at you.

“You sit on my face,” he replies simply.

You huff out a breath. “Sure, but….like, how? I weigh a lot—”

He shakes his head. “Not a problem for me, honey.”

“But I could hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I could kill you.”

He laughs, and he shifts his weight onto one arm so the other is free to reach down and grasp your waist. “If you kill me like that, I want how I died mentioned in my obituary, okay?”

“Not funny!” You poke him in the side, and he laughs again.

“Seriously, Bob. I don’t want to hurt you,” you continue.

“You won’t. I promise. It’ll be fine. But I want to do this.” His smile fades, and he fixes you with a darker look that sends a bolt of lust right through your core. “Please.”

-----

The two of you, once you got over your initial awkwardness, usually move so well together. Perfectly coordinated, in sync.

This…is not that.

For the first time, the two of you aren’t working together. Bob can’t know it, but it’s not just a physical misalignment—there are hidden feelings at play. As you tentatively hover over where he lays on the bed, you feel suddenly exposed, like Bob might be able to see the feelings you’ve caught for him. It’s so intimate, you think, being so bared to him. You hold yourself back, shy, and Bob doesn’t understand the sudden reticence in you. He chalks it up to fear of hurting him.

And you can’t know it, but Bob absolutely loves how intimate it is, being so exposed to him. There are hidden feelings on his side too—how hard it hits him, that he’s never done this with another woman before, and how he cannot imagine doing it with another one after you. He’s ravenous for you, wants to possess you in every way he can, but when he tries to tug you closer to him, you chalk it up to general horniness and nothing more.

It is all misunderstanding, in the end. You hold yourself back, hover over his face. He grips your hips, tries to pull you to him. The two of you struggle against the other, not understanding what is really driving the other—

“Come on,” he growls. “Give it to me, honey.”

“Bob, I don’t—”

“I can take it.”

“But I—”

It happens in a split second. Bob tugs you down against him in the exact moment you try to get a better balance over him, and the force of his pulling you down is added to the full weight of you shifting, with a bit of gravity, and you hit Bob so hard.

There’s a sickening crack, like a chicken bone snapping. You look down at him, startled, and see his blue eyes widen in pain—shock—

You scramble off of him, call his name, but he doesn’t move, and then you see it.

Blood. There’s so much blood, all over his face, and you yell his name now, but he still doesn’t move—

You’ve killed him. You’ve murdered him, and you scream. You reach for your phone and fumble it, and your body just acts. You back away, your mind scrambling, and you think I need to stop the bleeding, so you think to go to the bathroom for a towel, but when you pivot quick on your heel and turn towards the closed door, it is already swinging inward, right at your face, hard, and there’s an explosion of pain behind your eyes.

Then everything goes dark, and you don’t wake until you’re in the ambulance.

*****

Bob wakes up to the paramedics sliding him onto the backboard, his head immobilized between two foam blocks. Rooster hovers at the perimeter, a worried look on his face.

“What—” Bob manages to croak out, but the room grows dim again, and he fades in and out until the hospital.

-----

He comes to and stays awake in a quiet hospital room. There’s the steady beep of a monitor somewhere behind and above him. When he tries to turn his head, though, he finds himself held in place by a brace.

“You’re awake finally.” The voice is familiar, and a moment later, Phoenix’s face swims into his peripherals.

“You scared us, Baby on Board.” Rooster, to the left of him.

“Who knew you had it in you?” The voice at the foot of the bed, the hint of smarm. Bob feels a hand on his ankle, jostling him lightly. “You dirty fucking freak.”

“Shut up, Bagman.” Phoenix glares at the cocky pilot, then turns back to Bob, her gaze softening. “How are you feeling?”

He considers his answer. He feels…rough.

He also notices that his Dagger teammates are there, but you are not. Which makes him feel worse.

Phoenix seems to read his thoughts. Something in his expression must give him away, because she leans in closer and sets a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“She’s still downstairs,” she says, low near his ear. “You got a room, but she’s still in the E.R. They haven’t released her yet.”

“E.R.?”

She smiles, snorts out a light laugh. “Yeah, the two of you are a real fucking vibe, Bob.”

Rooster steps closer to the bed and grins down at him. “You’re lucky I struck out at the Hard Deck. I come home, barely get my shoes off, when I hear a scream. I go running back to your room just in time to knock your girl out. She ran headfirst into the door when I opened it.” He claps his hands together. “Down like a bag of rocks.”

Bob’s heart rate picks up, and the monitor registers it. Phoenix glances at the machine and snorts again.

“She’s fine,” she assures him. “I’ve been bouncing between you and her. It’s just slammed down there, so she’s been waiting for the doctor to release her.”

“She’s okay then?”

Phoenix nods. “Dislocated nose. Slight concussion. Embarrassed. Convinced she murdered you, until I set her straight.”

Bob smiles despite himself. “She thought I was dead?”

“She knocked you out,” Hangman cuts in. “And broke your nose.”

“You weren’t moving and there was blood everywhere,” Rooster adds.

“She also gave you grade two whiplash,” Phoenix continues. “And it looks like you’ll be sporting a pair of gnarly black eyes by morning.”

“Wow.” Bob breathes out a reedy whistle. “And you’re sure she’s okay?”

Phoenix nods again.

Rooster and Hangman offer to go grab some coffee from the hospital cafeteria, leaving Bob and his partner alone. Phoenix drags a chair over and settles closer to him, and Bob feels his mood sour little by little.

“Are you okay?” Phoenix finally asks.

He lifts his hand, drops it back onto the bed. “I guess it’s ruined now.”

“What is?”

“Our…arrangement. Mine and hers.”

She tilts her head. “How so?”

Phoenix stares at him, but a smile starts to creep across her face. She shakes her head then, grips his shoulder again.

“Do you love her, Bobby?” The question is asked softly, kindly.

Bob forgets the brace for a second and tries to nod. “Yeah.”

“You ever tell her?”

“Against the rules.”

“You ever tell her you wanted to revisit the rules, then?”

“No.”

Her smile widens. “You’re so fucking dumb, dude.”

*****

Hangman’s the one who stops to check in on you. He has a paper cup of coffee in each hand, and he holds both up to you.

“Wasn’t sure what you liked. One is black, one is cream and sugar.”

“Cream and sugar, please.”

He walks over to your bed and hands it to you, then studies you. You know you must look like hell—your eyes red from the hysterical crying of thinking yourself a murderer. Your nose—not broken, only dislocated—swollen and tender. And the general misery of how badly everything has turned out.

“You like the little nerd, huh?”

You take a sip of the coffee and thank him for it.

You don’t answer his question.

Hangman sighs, leans against the wall. “It’s just that, if you do, I’d like to know. I have a lot riding on it.”

“Huh?”

“There’s a pool about you and Baby on Board.” He sips his own coffee, smiles at you. “I want to know if I’m out money or if I have a payday coming.”

“You bet on us?”

He holds up a hand. “Whoa. All the Daggers bet on you. It wasn’t just me.”

You shake your head. “I don’t understand.”

“Some of us bet that you’d end up together. Others bet that you wouldn’t. Not that hard to understand.”

You try to take a steadying breath through your nose, which is an effort with how swollen it is. You look away from him and fix your eyes on the open doorway of your room. You watch the nurses and doctors scurry back and forth, the gurneys of hurt and sick people.

“It doesn’t matter either way,” you finally answer. “I nearly killed the guy. Is there a pool on that?”

Hangman laughs, and he settles in the chair near your bed. “You didn’t nearly kill him. You only lightly injured him. Then Bradley lightly injured you. It’s hilarious.”

You can only wince at his word choice. It’s not funny at all. Miramar is a gossipy hive of rumor, and Bob’s injuries will put him out of commission for at least a while—

“Is this gonna hurt his career at Top Gun?” you ask Hangman. You glance over at him and catch the way his expression softens at the angst in your voice. “Did I just fuck up his life completely?”

He reaches out and grasps your hand for a moment, gives you a friendly squeeze before he releases you. “Shit happens. The Navy knows that.”

“Still…”

“Jesus,” you groan, and you cover your face with your hands while Hangman laughs, but a second later the doctor enters your room and tells you that you are being released.

Hangman doesn’t take the hint and leave. He watches you sign off on your discharge papers, sips his coffee. He hands you your shoes, and he helpfully holds out your coat so you can slide into it.

“That little nerd loves you, you know,” he says suddenly. “It’s obvious as hell, which is why I laid a big bet on it.”

“He does?” The surprise in your voice makes him chuckle, then shake his head.

“Probably hard to see it from where you’re sitting, but he does. His dumb face lights up the minute he sees you, and when you aren’t around, he’s like a lost puppy. So if you feel even an inkling of the same for him, just go upstairs and put him out of his misery, okay?”

It feels like grace you don’t deserve. You hurt Bob, even if you hadn’t meant to, and for Hangman to offer this sliver of hope you don’t think you deserve—

You can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. Hangman doesn’t remark on them; he only stands by the doorway and waits for you.

“You’re a regular Cupid, Jake,” you offer.

“Nah.” He finishes off his coffee, crumples the cup, and tosses it in the nearby trash can. “I just want that fucking pool money.”

-----

The tears that threatened downstairs…they break free the moment you finally see him.

He looks awful. He looks…well, he looks like he pulled the full weight of an adult woman onto his face, pussy-first. His nose is swollen in a splint, he’s in a neck brace, and both eyes are so bruised that they can barely open beyond slits.

But his smile…

God, when he sees you, it’s just like Jake said: his poor, mangled face lights up, and his smile is so wide it looks like it might hurt. It hits you again, as it often does, how different he is from your usual type of man. That he loves to see you, is happy when he sees you, even injured. That he doesn’t need you around to fix his life, but he wants you around to just…be with you. Bob is no one that needs fixing; he just wants you there with him.

Phoenix and Rooster have the good sense to leave, ushering Hangman along with them. Bob, when he sees the tears coursing down your face, frowns and holds a hand out to you.

“I’m okay. I’m okay. It’s fine,” he repeats. You make your way over to him and take his hand, and maybe it is okay. He holds you tight, his big, warm palm enfolding yours—

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You shake your head. You’re not okay at all. You don’t know if Jake was lying, but you can’t lie to Bob anymore just as you can’t lie to yourself.

“I broke one of the rules,” you admit. You watch him, wary. You have the sense of how he might react, but you can’t know for sure. You just have to push through and say it. Put it out there.

“I broke a rule too,” he replies. He squeezes your hand.

“Yeah?” It comes out shaky, unsure.

“Yeah.”

“Which rule?”

He lifts your hand to his mouth and brushes a gentle kiss to the back of it. He’s so damned soft, and you blink against the fresh tears that threaten to spill over your face.

“It’s your own fault,” he grumbles, but he smiles when he says it. “If you didn’t want me falling for you, you shouldn’t have been so easy to fall for.”

You laugh, a nervous sound that nudges up against the wall of tears you’re struggling to hold back. “Even though I almost killed you?”

“I mean, you didn’t almost kill me, but you definitely owe me for all this.” He gestures with his free hand at his face.

“You could make a claim against my insurance, I guess—”

“Just a date,” he interrupts. “I just want one date with you.”

“That’s it?” The sick feeling in your stomach starts to recede, and it’s replaced by the fluttery feeling of promise, of something new and wonderful starting.

“Just once chance to show you how good it could be.” His expression is dead serious, and he squeezes your hand again. “Me and you. For real this time.”

“I, uh…” You clear your throat and glance at his bright blue gaze, then look away. You fix your eyes on where your hands are joined together. Your hand fits perfectly in his.

“I’ve only ever dated assholes,” you admit. Another glance at him to see how he takes in your words. “Guys who don’t have their shit together. It’s why I wanted the whole…arrangement with you. I’ve never been with a man who didn’t need, like, intensive therapy. Or the occasional law enforcement intervention.”

“First time for everything,” Bob replies mildly.

“What if…what if I don’t know how to be in a relationship unless…unless…” You trail off, not sure how to say it without it sounding completely terrible…but then, the reality of your dating life has been completely terrible anyway.

“You afraid you don’t know how to be in a relationship unless you’re miserable?” he asks gently.

“Maybe?”

“Hmm.” He releases your hand but pats the space on his bed beside him. “I don’t know if I’d be comfortable making you miserable, honey.”

You perch awkwardly on the sliver of bed available to you, but Bob reaches up and gets a hand on your shoulder, tugs you gently down towards him. It’s careful maneuvering—a stark difference to what got you here—but you eventually get comfortable beside him, your cheek against his shoulder, your temple against the hard molded plastic of his brace. His hand finds yours again, and he threads his fingers through yours.

“What if we started with that one date you owe me?” he offers. “And then maybe a second date. I’ll treat you the way you deserve to be treated, and you see how it feels to not be miserable.”

One date, maybe a second.

“I think I can handle that,” you reply.

“Then a third date, then another.”

You smile. “Okay.”

“Maybe around, say, the fifth date, you can spend the night. Let me make you pancakes in the morning. Fresh-squeezed orange juice.”

“Okay.”

“Then after maybe a month, you could keep some stuff at my place. Shampoo, extra clothes. So you’re comfortable.”

“I could take you to my favorite taco place,” you offer. “Over in Imperial County.”

“I’d like that.” He shifts a little in the bed, then adds, “maybe around the six-month mark, you could meet my family.”

“Would they make me miserable?” you tease.

“Oh, they’d make your life a living hell,” he teases back. “My dad would give you this whole disgusting speech about how he always wanted another daughter, my mom would drop hints about my grandma’s engagement ring being set aside for me—”

“They sound horrible,” you laugh.

“The worst.” He chuckles, and a long moment of silence stretches between you, but it’s comfortable. His warm hand in yours, the quiet beeping of the machines monitoring him, the steady sound of his breathing…the slightly whistling quality of your own breathing through your swollen nose.

“You know, I’ve never taken a girl home to meet my family before,” he says, and his voice is serious. “Never even considered it before.”

You lift your head a bit to look at him, and you see the thoughtful quality of his expression. You settle back against him.

“And you’re considering it with the girl who broke your neck, broke your nose, and shamed you in front of the United States Navy?”

He chuckles again. “You didn’t break my neck and I’m not in trouble with the Navy,” he says. “And yes, I’ve considered it. First time for everything.”

He doesn’t add anything else, and the drama of the evening starts to hit you. You feel your eyes getting heavy, start to doze off in the hospital bed with him. His verb tense choice, though—he has considered it, past tense, not is considering it, present tense—makes you wonder how long Bob might have been breaking that rule…

Bob doesn’t say anything else, but he thinks it: he never took a girl home to his family because he vowed to only ever do it once—with the girl he plans to marry.

320 notes · View notes

things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 6 hours ago

Note

(Kind of want Lilith/Lucifer/Adam)

Au Idea that when Adam was made, he was just to be the prototype. To see if they could actually make something like him to begin with. Lucifer didn't even know about him. Adam wasn't made to be anything special. Almost like a default skin. Plain to look at. Accept for his eyes, a brilliant gold, nothing else stood out.

They cheered at their creation but decided Adam had played his part and stuffed him in a remote part of the Garden where they could forget all about him. Adam didn't know how to do anything. He didn't even know how to talk and then the strange beings grabbed him and left him alone in some small part of the Garden he couldn't leave. Maybe the beings would come back. Maybe they wouldn't. Adam was made to be Subservient to anyone, the Angels wanted something that could worship them, but being alone made him stagnate.

Then Steve and Lilith were made. Steve, a more dominant and controlling person made Lilith's life miserable and she wanted out. Why couldn't she be in charge? Why did she always have to spread her legs for this man who always seemed to push her down, ignore her ideas, and slap her around if she said no?

Lucifer tried to get Steve to see reason but he hated the fact that Lucifer so easily charmed Lilith when he couldn't. Why was that dumb angel so special? Steve was perfect. Lilith should listen to him and only him. If she won't do it willingly, then he'll make her.

One day, while Lucifer was busy with his jobs, Lilith ran away to hide from Steve who once again trying to procreate with her. Disgusted, she kicked him in the groin and ran as fast as possible away from him. While running, she came across and enclosed part of the Garden she had never been in before. Tall trees stood close together, almost like a wall with how they were tangled with each other, and, curious, climbed them to see what was on the other side.

Adam was watching a snail in fascination when he heard rustling from above him. He didn't pay any attention to it because he had no idea what the concept of danger was. Lilith grunted but finally climbed to the top to peer down. She nearly fell out of the tree in shock. Another human. Another human.

She and Steve were not the only ones here in the Garden.

OOOOU!!!

Lilith thought that it was only her and that...... Brute they call her husband. But this, guy? He looks like a man, he doesn't have the body type that she does so another man?

Hopefully better than Steve.

She got down and walked over, gently placing her hand on his shoulder once she was close enough.

Lilith: Excuse me?

Adam jumped at the contact and voice, he looked at this lady, she was beautiful with long blonde hair and violet eyes that shimmered like amuthst. Who was she? He wasn't alone?

Lilith gasped when she saw his eyes, they were so bright they put the sun to shame.

Lilith: My name is Lilith, who are you?

Adam titled his head to the side, he knew his name but he didn't know how to tell her. How was she making those sounds?

She saw the confused look on his face and sighed, he probably didn't know how to talk. This could be a problem.

Lilith: You can't talk..... That's okay, maybe Luci can help with that when he comes down.

Adam was confused, who was this Luci?

Hours passed and Lilith stayed with Adam, she talked to him just to fill the silence and they watched the snails together.

The familiar flap of wings got her attention and she went to get him.

Lilith: Luci! Over here! I have something incredible to show you!

Lucifer smiled, he wondered what it could be. New plant maybe? Though, he wasn't accustomed to this part of the garden.

Lucifer: What is it Lily?

He went over and that's when he saw Adam.

Lilith: I found him here all alone, why would he be here? Why wouldn't they have him in the rest of the garden? Why can't he talk?

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x adam #adam x lucifer x lilith #ask

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echo-riot · 23 hours ago

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OMG, this doesn’t have to be a fic, but how would Ambessa respond to her girlfriend having a mommy kink?

Sigh *goes to character ai*

✞⛧ Ambessa with a girlfriend that has a Mommy kink ✞⛧

✞⛧ At first, Ambessa would be amused. She’s been called many things in her life—General, Lady Medarda, even intimidating—but “Mommy” coming from you in that context catches her off guard.

✞⛧ Her initial reaction is a slow smirk, followed by a deep, rumbling chuckle. “Mommy? Well, that’s certainly… bold of you.”

✞⛧ She immediately takes the opportunity to tease you about it, leaning in close with a low, seductive tone. “Is that what you want to call me, little one?”

✞⛧ Once she realizes you’re serious, she becomes even more intrigued. Ambessa loves power dynamics, and this new facet of your relationship gives her something fresh to explore.

✞⛧ Her confidence is unshakable. She doesn’t shy away from the role—in fact, she fully embraces it, enjoying the authority it gives her over you.

✞⛧ Ambessa would take the title and wield it like a weapon, using it to fluster you at the most unexpected times. “Say it again,” she’d purr, watching your face heat up.

✞⛧ She loves the way it makes you melt under her gaze, and she’ll occasionally use it to coax obedience. “Be good for Mommy, won’t you?”

✞⛧ Despite the teasing, she approaches it with care. She takes the time to understand what the dynamic means to you and ensures that it aligns with both of your boundaries and comfort levels.

✞⛧ Ambessa’s nurturing side comes out more in this role. While she’s naturally dominant, she’s also fiercely protective of you, and the “Mommy” dynamic lets her lean into that aspect of her personality.

✞⛧ She’ll take care of you in every sense of the word, whether that means pampering you, holding you when you’re feeling vulnerable, or giving you firm but loving guidance.

✞⛧ She’s incredibly perceptive and uses that to her advantage. If she senses you’re craving attention or reassurance, she’ll pull you into her lap and hold you until you’re completely at ease

✞⛧ On the flip side, she doesn’t hesitate to call you out when you’re being bratty. “Careful, darling,” she’ll warn with a raised eyebrow. “Mommy doesn’t tolerate misbehavior.”

✞⛧ Ambessa’s experience and confidence make her an expert at setting the tone. Whether it’s a playful, teasing interaction or something more serious, she knows how to keep you on your toes.

✞⛧ Ambessa’s sense of humor shines through in unexpected moments. If you slip up and call her “Mommy” in public, she’ll smirk and say, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re going to regret that later.”

✞⛧ She doesn’t let the dynamic define your entire relationship, though. Ambessa values balance and ensures there’s room for both playful indulgence and moments of equality between you.

✞⛧ That said, she can’t resist the occasional power play. “You like having someone in control, don’t you?” she’ll murmur, her lips brushing against your ear.

✞⛧ Ambessa thrives on the control and adoration that comes with the role, but she never takes it for granted. She’s always checking in with you, ensuring you’re comfortable and happy.

✞⛧ She uses pet names liberally, often pairing them with the “Mommy” dynamic. “Good girl” becomes a regular part of her vocabulary, and the way she says it makes your knees weak every time.

✞⛧ Ambessa loves to spoil you, and the dynamic gives her even more reason to do so. She’ll lavish you with gifts, affection, and praise, always reminding you how much you mean to her.

✞⛧ She’s also not above using your kink to her advantage during arguments or disagreements. “Oh, so now you’re defiant?” she’ll say with a sly grin. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

✞⛧ If you’re ever hesitant or shy about the dynamic, she’ll reassure you with her usual confidence. “There’s no shame in knowing what you want, darling. And you’re lucky, because I’m more than happy to give it to you.”

✞⛧ She’s a master of anticipation, using her words and actions to keep you on edge. “What’s the matter?” she’ll tease. “Did you think Mommy wouldn’t notice?”

…chat. CHAT. I think I found something out about myself. And I did in fact go to character ai with this.

#ambessa league of legends #lol ambessa #ambessa headcanons #ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa arcane #ambessa medarda #ambessa medarda x reader #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader

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swtsupernatural · 2 days ago

Text

S.W || SILK & SHAPESHIFTERS: PT2

Sam Winchester x Thick!Fem!Reader

Content Warning reader being shorter than Sam, reader desc as having thick thighs, dean being annoying, swearing, reader wanting to fuck sam, a bit of sexual tension that is not yet resolved (pls be patient with me)

Summary Fluff, (Sexual tension lowk) strangers to acquaintances to lovers(?) - Posing as Sam Winchester's girlfriend at a charity ball for a hunting case isn't so bad, that is until you have to do actual work. You might kill Dean when you get out of here, and hopefully get your hands on your fake boyfriend.

W.C. 2k words

(Original) Ask anon: A: Hello hello! I'm back again; I'm going to change my request style a bit, how about a female reader with thick thighs? Make her with Sam please

Playlist: ♫ Blue Jeans - Lana Del Rey, Body - Megan Thee Stallion, She's My Collar - Gorillaz

A.N. part 2 finally ! was not expecting winter break to be so busy...more to come so so soon my loves. Also, so sorry to make this into 3 parts I swear im not trying to torture yall - xx claire

Taglist: @callsign-ember @kaiserpoo @lovelymax10

Inside the estate your once flushed face grew even warmer — this time from the heaters, not Sam’s undeniably sexy voice. Past the elegant entrance and wide, old doors was a large ballroom type area with an intricate ceiling that you had to crane your neck up to look at. The thick banners hanging around the room were a deep blue, showing images of marine animals in a chilling climate, most looking disheartened or sad. In swirling letters on the top of each banner read: “Marine Life Fundraiser: 2025”

“How much you wanna bet they don’t even know half of the animals they’re donating to?” Sam piped up.

“Not a lot. These events are more about having a nice evening in a way too expensive outfit, showing off your very rich, sexy boyfriend/husband or very pretty, young girlfriend/wife, and doing that rich person laugh.”

“I don’t know if we’re being very convincing then.”

“What do you—

Sam snaked his right arm around your waist, the soft velvety fabric of your dress ruffling under his sleek suit. He gripped your firmly but not tightly, his hand gently digging into your soft flesh through your thin dress. He smiled…no, smirked (you weren’t sure) down at you.

“That better, pretty young girlfriend?” Your eyes dilated in seconds and you fought to keep your eyes off of his.

“Y-yea...” You wanted to groan at how small and bashful your voice sounded, you never stuttered.

“Can you guys feel up each other after we finish this?” Dean’s husky voice sounded in both of your ears a bit muffled but it startled both of you, making you feel almost compromised. Sam loosened his grip on you only slightly, letting out a sigh from his throat that went over your neck and left an intense tingling feeling.

“You wanted us to play the part,” You muttered to Dean after you flipped on your ear piece, a gentle hand on Sam’s chest as you made your way to the bar.

“yn, can you put on something over your tight ass dress so Sam can frickin focus?” Your mouth dropped open, scoffing and tilting your head to the side in fake offense.

“Can you stop looking at me and do your job?”

“I am, but it's hard when you two keep eye fucking eachother. Get your drinks, socialize, and distract the remaining family grill ‘em if you can. And please, listen to your ear piece.” Before you can reply, your eyes land on Dean in the crowds of suits and dresses, who is looking at you unamused. You smile, and he rolls his eyes playfully. You knew he wasn’t actually mad, but you also knew you did need to focus. You ordered a drink, Sam looming very close to your back, ordering after you. He slides the bartender his card, taking your drinks and leading you to the back of the room.

“So…you seen them?” You shook your head, knowing he was referring to the family. You scanned the room pointedly, tuning out the music, chatter, and all the bright lights and costly chandeliers in the room, finally spotting the youngest member of the family, Victor Brady, sitting with his mother. His mother had gone ‘missing’ but he never had. Based on your research, you knew the Bradys were rich of course, but you weren't sure the motives of the group of shapeshifters yet. Why were members of the family disappearing then coming back as if nothing happened? Had they really kidnapped some of them? Were the mother and son in front of you really them? How many of them were there?

“Hey, don’t worry,” Sam muttered in your hair, seeming to sense how wired-in to the family your mind was, “Let’s go talk to them. Remember, I am,” he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, flashing the fake ID Dean had handed him earlier, “Ron Fogerty, son of a wealthy businessman from Canada. And you…” he pointed a finger at your face, then moved it to direct at your purse where your fake ID resided. You pulled it out.

“Elaina…Clifford? Really? You guys are still using the rock names?” Sam gave you a pointed look, as if saying, it wasn't my idea with his face.

��No idea how you both don’t get in trouble more often. Anyway, I’m girlfriend, correct? We’re here to support the Brady’s Fundraiser and get to know their youngest.”

“Bingo. Let’s go before Dean gets on our asses again.”

Strolling arm in arm to the Brady’s table with fake smiles, you and Sam greeted his mother first, then him

In the Impala, you had told the Winchesters about recent photos of them that had been published in the local paper. The family was known for being wealthy but not unkind; and was regarded highly among those in the city. But, in the photos from the week before, the youngest, Brady, was seen holding a number of odd documents leaving the bank, then making his way in the opposite direction of his family estate. Of course, the photos did not show the small printed lines of whatever secrets he was holding…but his angry, crude expressions in the photos did not match those of the graceful man sitting in front of you.

“This is Elaina, my girlfriend. She’s very interested in wildlife and insisted she spoke to those running the fundraiser.” Sam smiled, his voice calm and collected. You nodded, and Mrs. Brady tapped Sam’s shoulder, asking him something you couldn't make out because her son’s voice was louder, closer to your ears.

“My name is Victor. Please, sit. It is nice to meet others with a passion for doing good with what they were blessed with.” You turned to see Sam was speaking civilly with Mrs. Brady, seated across from her, and you decided to sit as well.

“Yes, I…also must say I find this place beautiful. Your family has lived here a while, I hear.”

Victor’s face dropped, his mouth forming a thin line. “We have. But you shouldn't believe everything you hear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, trying desperately to play the part of a kind, naive woman, when all you really wanted was for him to tell you something, anything that might get you closer to what was going on.

“Of course not, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He sighs as you trail off, and that's when you notice the dark crescents of purple under his eyes.

“No, it’s my fault. People have been saying some things, lately, about us, about my father particularly. I do not appreciate men who spread false information.”

“And I do not either, I am actually a journalist back home, Victor. I know the importance of telling a factual story.” That made him relax.

“And I am glad to hear it. My parents don’t understand that whatever they’re doing is making me look like a fool as well.” You furrowed your brows. Whatever they’re doing?

“I’m sorry. It's hard to separate from your parents' identity, especially if they're as well known as yours.”

“Exactly. I love them, and I love these events, truly, but just because I’m young doesn't mean I won't understand all the things they keep from me.”

“I know wha–

Your words stop stuck in your throat as you feel cold liquid streamed over your legs, your mouth dropping open as the wine made you get goosebumps. You tilted your head up slowly to see…Dean; empty wine glass in his hand, the alcohol now all over your velvet dress. You look up at him with daggers in your eyes, and he already knew he was going to get it later. But the look he gives you after he apologizes and offers you some napkins suddenly makes you aware of his plan.

“So sorry again, miss, here, I’ll take you to wherever the bathroom is and…” Sam is up now, moving closer to you before you widen your eyes at him, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion before Victor speaks up.

“That won't be necessary, I will show her.” You thank him and quickly mutter a, “I’ll be right back, honey,” to Sam, who nods, finally getting what Dean was thinking. You walk away, you hear a few security guards telling Dean rather loudly that he is cut off from the bar.

You follow Victor, hearing his expensive shoes clacking on the dark wood stairs past a number of guards, ascending until you reach a long, grand hall. He walks to the second door on the right, and you understand that this is his parents bathroom. You can feel your heart beating at a speed you didn't think possible, thanking God that you still had your purse, and the special items inside you needed for a case like this. Victor offered you a few different stain removers, finally offering you a blow dryer for the bottom half of your dress where Dean had probably spilled a hundred dollars worth of wine on you.

“Excuse me, I’m just going to use the restroom.” Victor points to the very far corner where you see a door at the end, which is around the corner from where you stand. Your plan tumbles around your brain, keeping the blow dryer on the loudest setting as you turn on your ear piece.

“Alright, I’ll be here,” You say to Victor with a polite smile. He nods, turning the corner as you smirk, your heels already off, hand reaching into your bag as you go through the connecting door to his parents room. It had been a fucking hassle to get the layout of this stupid estate, but if this was the main building, that meant you were in the bathroom next to the master bedroom. Bingo.

“I’m in the bedroom,” you whisper, nearly out of breath with how fast your heart is beating.

You held your device up to your eye, sending a silent thanks to Bobby for helping you with it. You were booksmart, not handy. You weren’t a great physical hunter and didn’t have a knack for making things; but Bobby did. A couple years ago when you had both worked on a case with Shapeshifters, you’d kept some of the…sheddings, is what you agreed to call it, of two of them when they transformed. The ooze smelled awful and almost glowed once you brought it home. You’d expressed how helpful it would be to detect such ooze, almost like night vision goggles, for hunting shapeshifters. He’d agreed, and after a dozen phone calls and hours searching through his piles of junk and scrap from various cars, created a shedding detecting circle that looked like a single binocular eye.

“The parents? Holy shit, I’m a genius,” Dean’s muffled voice came in your ear.

“You got lucky. And I’m expecting a form of apology when this is over.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have some ideas. Sure you’d rather get my typa’ apology from Sammy, though.”

“You know I can hear all of this, right?” Sam said, his voice low and quiet in your ear.

“Can you both shut up so I can focus with the two minutes I have up here?”

You quickly spotted a heap of shedding glowing in the far right corner of the room, swiftly going over to see a pile of the ooze, skin, blood, and teeth. You scrunch your face at the smell, but put your left eye through the detector again. It took you a lot longer than you wanted it to, but you found a small trace of it on a cabinet near their bed. Inside, documents with faint traces of the shedding were in your hand in minutes.

“I got something, I’m coming back down,” you mutter, folding the pieces of paper as much as you could, shoving them not so gracefully in your purse when you heard the bathroom door open.

“Sorry! Wrong way out. I think I’ve nearly had as many drinks as the wine spilling guy.” You giggled, smiling at Victor like he was God’s gift to Earth, hoping he’d buy it. And he did. He smiled politely, washing his hands before leading you out of the bathroom commenting on how, “The stain remover worked quickly, it almost looks as good as new.”

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melodyanqel · 2 days ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (004. no truth just lies)

love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.

⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho

⤷ warnings: crying, suggestive themes

⤷ wc: 2.3k words

⤷ note: omggg tysm for 300 followers! i didn’t expect to gain so much luv and support but very grateful. to help you all understand or a recap of the story so far junho and lily have been in a relationship since 2022 and after jun-ho woke up. now in the present day they’re engaged. throughout their relationship junho has never mentioned anything about the squid game, or his unexpected encounter with inho because he wants to protect lily and his mother. plus lily has never met inho in her life. so yea i hope that helped

⤷ language key: korean, english

⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @hwallazia @rubyredish @analysisiinternet @ilovebtsomgie @aylinbsx @jsprien213 @your-writer-beta-side-piece

Great. She looks like someone attacked her.

Lily is in the bathroom checking her face. The bruises are not prominent, but they sting. She then looks for antibiotic cream in her drawers to soothe the pain. Lucky for her, Jun-ho isn’t home yet, so she has time to cover them up with foundation and concealer. But at the same time, she asks herself, was it worth it earning the money or she played a goddamn fool of herself. The salesman appeared as a mystery but offered actual cash for some reason.

When she came home, Lily checked it by shining a bill through a light and the print was visible. So, is this stranger doing it for the right purpose or something else? It’s not every day you’d get money from a random guy. However, it didn’t make it better that he smacked her face as a penalty. It would be counted as an assault if a cop saw it, but the people around the station didn’t interfere, which was understandable. Regardless, it doesn’t sit right with Lily.

“My love, I’m home!”

She hears her boyfriend’s voice.

“I’m in the bathroom!” Lily shouts back and finishes putting on the makeup. Again, she will not tell Jun-ho. But for now, she has to clear her mind and be in her love’s comforting arms. Lily turns off the bathroom light and goes to the living room. She sees Jun-ho sitting on the couch, watching T.V. with snacks on the coffee table. After the birthday party, the two cleaned the place but kept the Pochacco balloon.

Lily joins him. She rests her head on his lap and her body is on the couch. Jun-ho grins, looking down at her lovingly. “Was it a fun date?” He asked about the girl’s day. Lily responded, “Yes, I had fun. So-eun cried when I told her about our engagement.” She tells Jun-ho about the emotional moment.

He chuckles and says, “That’s good. I also told Han-gyul and he was surprised yet happy for us. He also wishes you the best of luck in this marriage.” Jun-ho has yet to tell his chief and other colleagues. He would share parts of his personal life at his workplace because they all know each other on a deeper level.

“Aw, that’s sweet!” Lily feels warmth across her chest because she adores the people in her life. “I like Han-gyul. For someone at twenty-one to strive in law enforcement is impressive. I was doing the opposite of him. I found a man at a bakery.” She lets out a mirthful laugh. Jun-ho’s full lips make a smirk. He softly brushes her brunette locks with his fingers. “And now you can’t escape from that man.” His words sounded genuine yet a little daring.

Jun-ho watches his woman sit up to straddle her legs on his hips. Lily is comfortable on his lap with a tender smile. The emotion in his warm brown eyes has her heart racing. He yearns for his angel. Lily shakes her head. “Nope, I can’t and I have zero regrets.” She stated confidently.

The officer takes the teacher’s left hand to kiss her ring. He raises his gaze at his blushing woman. Her beauty is out of this world—silky brunette hair, snow-white flesh that looks porcelain, plump rosy lips, and his favorite of all is her enchanting russet eyes.

Jun-ho gets lost in them, even at one glance he’ll go crazy. He puts Lily’s hand down to his lap and still holds it. Jun-ho then tells more about his day. “I’m glad you accept my confession. I also told omma about the news and she screamed through the phone.” He video-called her and she burst into tears and cheered with her friends.

Lily’s lips play a big smile, “Yay! I have yet to announce it to my family. I hope they don’t mind waking up in the middle of the night.” She snickers because the time zones are one of the issues of living in different countries. Jun-ho lets go of her hand to rub her arm. “I’m sure they don’t. I can announce it with you, whenever you’re ready.” He has the patience like a true gentleman and Lily won’t stop falling for him.

“Thank you.” She appreciates her beautiful love. Jun-ho watches Lily move closer to him without breaking eye contact. Her soft lips are placed against his like a puzzle piece. Jun-ho uses his right hand to hold the back of her head to deepen the kiss.

He starts to feel the burning passion inside him. Jun-ho wraps his left around Lily’s petite waist to have her body flat on the couch. He hovers over Lily and the kiss gets more intense. He slips his tongue into her mouth to intertwine with her timid licks. She has her arms enveloping his neck.

His brawny hands grab her bare legs to pull her close to his hardness. Lily whimpers between the kiss and her wetness starts to form through her panty and pajama shorts. She wears a cami top which makes it more enticing for Jun-ho to see her pretty breasts nicely snugged from a thin material.

They parted their lips to take a breather. Jun-ho grins tenderly at Lily’s flushed-out face. It makes him grow harder. “I would like to continue this somewhere else.” He puts his finger on her clothed pussy and brushes it to make her moan in pleasure.

Lily mutters, “Okay. Can you not be gentle this time?” She sheepishly summits and requests something new. Jun-ho chuckles darkly which sends shivers to Lily’s core. He smirks when he feels her getting dripping wet. “Anything for you, my love.” The hot officer is willing to do whatever his gorgeous fianceé tells him.

Jun-ho gently carries Lily in his arms, bridal style, to the bedroom.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

❰ OCTOBER, 2024 ❱

A month later, things started to change.

Jun-ho had to end his island search because there wasn’t any luck nor did he think he would succeed. Even though it was disappointing, Captain Park understood and respected Jun-ho’s choice. So, the officer continues to do his regular duties normally with Han-gyul. He also visits Lily’s place more often because his shifts are now shorter.

Boyfie (Jun-ho): hey I can’t make it tonight. i’ll be in a meeting with the chief.

Angel (Lily): that’s fine! make sure you have your umbrella ready for tonight.

Boyfie (Jun-ho): i’m always prepared.

A smile etches on Lily’s lips when reading the text message. Tonight’s weather will be gloomy, but it’s common for the autumn season to get colder and drippy from the rain. It’s also common for Lily to be the nagging girlfriend. She has a reason because Jun-ho forgets things easily. He once forgot about his badge in one of his dirty dress pants and Lily almost washed it. So, he better have an umbrella with him.

The windows of the classroom are open and the sound of the tree leaves blowing creates a melody. It’s always comforting on a quiet afternoon. Lily is at her desk, grading her students’ homework. Everyone was well-behaved and in a pleasant mood as usual. She loves seeing their happy faces whenever she clocks in because they’re so precious.

Lily checks the time on her phone to notice it’s half past five. She sighs and stretches her arms. She has been sitting for an hour and there are more tasks to do. Lily created more schedules for the following days, tutored students who were struggling, and organized the classroom. It’s a lot but anything to keep her apartment.

Inside his car, Jun-ho’s content expression disappears when he reads the messages on his phone. He has yet again lied to Lily. He doesn’t have a meeting, he has a plan to do. While he was in the city with Han-gyul, they stopped a driver because they were speeding. After they drove off without a word and received a ticket, Han-gyul told Jun-ho that the driver was a man and had a collection of phones and tablets. Jun-ho thought it was suspicious so he made sure the rookie cop ran the man’s ID.

Seong Gi-hun. No criminal record was found.

After reading the scanner, it made Jun-ho’s heart drop. His mind went back to 2020 when he met a man named Seong Gi-hun and entered the game. Jun-ho did some digging to figure out if it was the right person. His guesses became true. However, he has no idea what or how Gi-hun managed to get out of the game alive.

Jun-ho's destination is to check the office building called “Sunshine Capital.” Supposedly, that’s where Gi-hun’s rental car comes from. He’ll be heading over there at night to avoid getting caught. Jun-ho understands he should let it go and move on because his brother is no longer the Hwang In-ho who he loves and admires. But a voice at the back of his head is telling him to keep searching because there is more to In-ho’s secrets.

He may act and look like he has the ambition to find his brother again but deep down he is afraid. Jun-ho puts his palm over his left shoulder, the healed gunshot wound. That moment still haunts him. Jun-ho did tell himself he wouldn’t continue on his island search, but maybe there would be luck, eventually.

For now, it’s time to reunite with Seong Gi-hun.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

“Hi, mama.”

“Hello, darling. How are you?”

Lily has the phone call on speaker while looking at the evening sky through the open windows. Her mother wanted to contact her because it’s been days since they’d last spoken. Lily responded, “I’m doing well. Seoul has gotten chilly, but I’ll be fine.” She tries to keep the conversation positive and not bring up her issues.

“That’s nice to know and stay warm, my dove. I’m assuming Jun-ho is the same as you.” The woman mentions her future son-in-law. Like Mrs. Hwang, she wanted him to be part of the family and grow together. Lily’s father agreed too which was a shocker because fathers would be nervous about their daughters getting married. But her father does love Jun-ho as much as her mother and sister.

“Yes, he is the same, but he also thought about moving into my apartment whenever he is ready. Mrs. Hwang is okay with it as long as knows how to be the man of the house.” Lily informed about Jun-ho's decision to live with her. She gets a hearty laugh from the other end. Mrs. Reed says, “She reminds me of your grandma when I told her about sharing a space with your dad when we got engaged. If so, I hope you two live happily and healthy.” She gives her words of wisdom.

Lily begins to tear up and sob. Hearing the sound of her mother’s voice soothes her mind and erases her stress. If only she has the chance to see her in person along with the rest of her family. The young beauty uses her hands to wipe the tears away. She sniffles and clears her throat. “Thank you, mama. I’ll notify you whenever it happens.” Lily will thank her mother endlessly.

After the much-needed phone call, she finalizes her shift by saving the cleaning for last. She also shuts the windows because when it gets completely dark, the rain starts pouring. Lily expected a light shower, but it came down hard. It seems like she’ll have to hurry her way home. Good thing she brought an umbrella.

Sometime later, Lily packs her belongings and turns off the classroom lights. She also makes sure the door is locked. As soon as she walks out of the building, the heavy rain welcomes her. Lily shivers when a strong breeze hits her fair cheeks. “Great. The struggles are real.” She huffs, opens her pastel yellow umbrella, and heads to the subway. While walking in the streets, Lily notices people passing by, trying to get to wherever.

Now at the station, Lily does the routine of waiting for her ride to come. Even though it’s been a month since she encountered that strange man with Ddakji, she wondered if he was still doing it. Lily hadn’t seen him in a while, and it was good because his intentions were outlandish. From that night, she almost didn’t want to return home through the subway and have Jun-ho pick her up. Of course, it would’ve been safer, but it was a one-time thing that can be forgotten.

Lily brushes off the wonderment of the salesman and focuses on getting back to her place. She needs a nice cup of hot chocolate with sugar cookies.

When arriving at the apartment, Lily spots an envelope in between the cracks of the door. Confused, she takes it and goes inside. She tears the item open to pull out a paper. It’s from her landlord, telling her the next payment is on October 31st with 2,144,295 won. Lily’s face is crestfallen. She carelessly throws her keys and purse on the dining table. Her body reaches the couch to sit down and calm herself.

It gives her a headache how rent increases. Not only that but she also has to pay off her student debt because it adds more effect to her credit score. Lily borrowed money during her college years and paid little by little. However, it doesn’t cover everything. She brushes her thumb over the numbers.

She is grateful that the school allows her to work extra hours. Lily once told Jun-ho about needing more money, but she never told him about the monthly rent payments. Even though she can ask Jun-ho and his mother for help, the burden will make her feel like she isn’t doing well financially. Lily is someone who is extremely independent and tries to look for solutions to solve problems.

There has to be a way.

series masterlist | five

#squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game fic #hwang jun ho #squid game hwang jun ho #jun ho #hwang junho #squid game jun ho #jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho fic

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thekirammanjinx · 16 hours ago

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Imagine being 28(the op) and having this takeaway/opinion on arcane. I'm laughing at how ignorant and superficial and just wrong this whole thing is. If you say jinx did nothing wrong and in the same breath condemn everything caitlyn did... you have a very null and void "argument".

-Let's talk about caitlyn: firstly they call her "white privileged" already admitting how many braincells they have working, which is none.

Also the use of the word "Machiavellian" is very interesting because using it to speak on caitlyn is so far removed from the truth, now if they had used the same word to describe ambessa, who they completely ignored an analysis on, as all the vehement s2 caitlyn haters do. We can't excuse caitlyn of her role she played but it's very telling the way the vehement, brainless, haters never ever bring up ambessa, which she plays an important part in weighing down caitlyn's shoulders and clouding her morals.

When does caitlyn ever use vi to excuse her actions or excuse the moments her prejudice shows? Never. Again yall just hate her because she's a cop.

A FICTIONAL cop. Using acab across all walks of life eliminates what it's meant to stand for. Some of you need to learn cognitive thinking and nuance. "Everyone in piltover is guilty and everyone in zaun is excused and rightful to their actions" that's not how things work. That's not even how acab works.

But again, yall are so focused on superficial moral brownie points and parading around false activism. When your politics and grandstanding only attribute to fiction that doesn't even align with irl.

Yes things can reflect reality and still have their own nuances. Arcane does, it's giving you the whole picture, you don't need to bring in the outside world. You are not smarter because you can't understand nuance and complex storytelling and can only spout "acab". You sure as hell aren't standing on any moral high ground.

-Vi, what is the commentary on her? If we're talking s1, she never left jinx by choice, she was kidnapped and thrown into stillwater.

Now if we're talking about s2, jinx is not a child, and on multiple occasions, jinx has made HER choice. It's very clear some viewers watched this with the desire for only 1 outcome: vi to never heal from everything she faced because of her past and because of powder/jinx. If vi only reason to live isn't jinx then the show is bad.

At some point jinx becomes her own person. And vi should be allowed to become her own. Vi says to jinx "you don't need me, you haven't for a while" or something along those lines, and she's right.

-Jinx. Some of you are so fragile and braindead you can't give jinx storyline any respect. It's always just "she never did anything wrong" and yall mean that so seriously. It's embarrassing.

"She's just like me for real", so you have major attachment psychosis and possess several counts of unwarranted murder? You can relate to parts of jinx, that's fine, but yall are so stuck on that, trying to be jinx or equating yourself to jinx, you can't see the story.

Jinx has multiple counts of terrorism and wrong doings. You actually, I don't even mean this sarcastically, lose any validity in your argument against caitlyn when this is your belief.

- in the full post they extend some form of understanding to every character except caitlyn. Which again, says all it needs to say. You are not morally better or a good person because you only see a fictional cop for their fictional title. If you don't look at people as people beyond that, that's when we get into a position where cycles never end.

To say all of zaun problems came from piltover and excuse jinx and silco... you are not an activist of zaun. For example, ekko, he doesn't just sit around shit talking piltover and enforcers. He understands that his own people, zaunites, are also part of the problem.

If you look at ekko and look at jinx. Zaun lament her as a figure to idolize, despite the fact for many years she was like 75% of the reason things in zaun got far worse before they could really get better. Jinx continuing to paint a target on zaun back by the end of s1 and then parts of s2.

Yall think violence against an entire system and people, vs those individuals who should be condemned for their actions and roles, is the answer.

#arcane season 2 #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #fandom critical

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atleastpleasetelephone · 2 days ago

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Gentle on my mind - Chapter 14

Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?

Catch up with the other parts here.

Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.

A/N: This is the final part. I wanted to write an epilogue but this was so difficult to write I don't think I can. I cried all the way through it and I cried when I edited it too. I am really sorry to have made a story that ends like this, but this is how it is.

Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.

Word count: 2.7K

TWs: Description of Elvis' failing health, erectile dysfunction, consensual somno, p in v sex, and death. Please prepare yourself for the end of this.

They spend the rest of the week at Graceland enjoying one another’s company. Elvis feels a sense of peace that settles over him like a warm blanket that cold January, and he wishes it could go on forever. Gloria is happy too, finally having time with Elvis and no demands on either of them. She particularly enjoys getting to know Larry, who she thinks of as Elvis’ spiritual hairdresser, talking about all sorts of crazy things. She recognises him as a kindred spirit - maybe not quite on the basis of religion or even belief generally, but as someone who wants the best for Elvis and actively tries to help him. Larry likes Gloria too, especially the effect that she has on Elvis. He’s sure Parker wouldn’t be happy about her if he knew she was here, but then again maybe he wouldn’t mind her, since there seemed to be no way she could be a permanent fixture in Elvis’ life. The days at Graceland are full of reading and talking, singing and playing games in the snow. Gloria is sad when she has to leave but she’s been missing her kids too. It’s the longest she’s spent without them, and the ache in her heart feels almost physical. There are a lot of tears and promises when she leaves, though every time she and Elvis part she worries a little more if there will be a next time.

***

Gloria keeps her promise about visiting, but it’s hard to find times that work for the kids, Roger and Elvis. They manage twice that year, and it’s wonderful both times. Somehow she manages another visit in early 1976, and then Elvis tells her he’s playing two dates at Cow Palace in November and puts her name on the door. He’d looked tired when she saw him last, and she’s worried about seeing him perform for the first time in four years. She’s still never spoken to him about his health, but she sees the pills and she stays awake a lot when she’s with him, remembering what Jerry had said. Once she finds he’s stopped breathing and has to shake him awake, calling out desperately for help. He comes round, but it scares her. It scares her a lot that they might not have much time left.

***

Somehow the Cow Palace show is incredible. Elvis is bright and engaged and as she watches him, Gloria feels like she’s falling in love all over again. He’s fired Red and Sonny West, so Jerry is his only remaining body guard now, and it’s easy for him to persuade Jerry that they don’t have to stay in the hotel that night. He arrives to Gloria’s house under cover of darkness and the kids are overwhelmed with joy to see him.

Once they’re in bed he peels his jumpsuit off his tired body, standing in the middle of Gloria’s bedroom. He’s so exhausted he forgets to be self-conscious, and when she walks in from tucking the kids in she finds him standing there in just the little white pants he had to wear with the suit. His hair is still damp with sweat, and the hair on his chest seems darker and thicker than ever. He turns to look at her, eyes half-closed.

“I need ta shower, honey.”

Gloria has a little ensuite with just a shower, and she ushers him towards it. It’s obvious he’s too tired for this really, so when he gets in and just stands there under the faucet not moving, she gets in too. It’s a tight squeeze and as she starts to rub soap on his chest she realises she didn’t even take her clothes off. He’s not the only exhausted one.

“Thanks honey,” he whispers, not questioning what she’s doing or the fact that she’s doing it fully-clothed.

She rubs soap all over him and then helps him rinse it off. He steps out of the shower, shakily, and she quickly strips off her wet clothes, leaving them there before finding him a towel and wrapping him up in it. He’s still and his eyes are almost closed, so she dries him too, leading him back into the bedroom once she’s dried herself off.

Elvis lies down with a groan. He’s exhausted. He can’t help but feel that he gave his all at that show, but he knows he has to do it again tomorrow.

“Can’t keep doin’ this,” he mumbles, as Gloria tucks him in and then gets in next to him. Her hair is wet, so she puts a towel down on her pillow.

“You need a break,” she whispers.

“I sure do.”

She leans her head against his chest, her fingers rubbing one of his sideburns. They’re so big now she feels like he’s on his way to growing a beard.

“Remember we used to talk about going to Hawaii?”

He smiles, eyes still closed. “Course. Think about it all the time. Runnin’ away to Hawaii with you and the kids. Livin’ out the rest a my days peacefully in the sun.”

Gloria feels her heart break in two at his words. The rest of my days.

“Maybe we can go there on vacation? I’m sure I could work something out.”

“That would be wonderful honey… maybe next year…” he starts to trail off, his words slurring as he falls into a deep sleep.

She stays awake, watching him, staring at his beautiful profile and wondering how she got so lucky and yet so unlucky at the same time.

***

When Elvis calls her and asks her to run away with him to Hawaii she doesn’t hesitate. Not just because she’s afraid if she says no she might never see him again, but because Roger has lost interest in Corey and Jackie and moved to Nebraska to be with the maid. She’d stuck around for a bit with the baby, but then wanted a clean break from the mess in Frisco and decided to go back to be near her family. Roger had tried to do both, but in the end he told Gloria he was waiving his right to custody in favour of the maid and her little one. His other son. She doesn’t care for herself, but she’s devastated for the kids. Particularly Jackie, who’s such a Daddy’s girl. Corey had never been the same with his dad since that fateful night, and even though he was very small at the time, she feels like he remembers what happened.

The group that arrives in Honolulu is small and tightly knit. Only Larry and Jerry are there from the Mafia, although Charlie promises to arrive in a few days. Pat travels with Gloria and the kids to help out with childcare. She’d agreed to it after her sister had broken down one evening, telling her about her fears around Elvis’ health. When they see him at the resort neither think her fears were unfounded. His face is swollen and so is his belly, and he looks more tired than ever. But he’s joyful, being in Hawaii with Gloria at last. He’s only told Jerry and Larry that this isn’t really a vacation. To everyone else, he’s just having a break before his next tour. To them, he’s going and not coming back. He hates the idea of letting his fans down but he thinks he’ll end up doing it eventually anyway, and at least this way he’s got control over it. He’s set up as many traps as he possibly can for Joe and the Colonel to fall into before they realise what he’s doing and try to drag him back. But he feels old and tired now, even though he’s only 42. He’s lived a full life. It’s time to relax in a place he loves with the people he loves best.

***

Elvis might be tired, but the sun and sand do revive him, and he spends his days playing with the kids and his nights trying his hardest to give Gloria the most pleasure he can. She tells him she doesn’t need multiple orgasms a night and he should rest, but he doesn’t listen. He hasn't had an erection for over a year now, but he makes up for it with his hands and his mouth. Gloria is only sad that she can’t give him anything back, kissing all over his body and gently sucking his soft dick.

One night, he’s so caught up in holding and kissing her that he falls asleep without taking his pills and wakes up in a panic in the early hours of the morning. Scrambling around to look for them, he suddenly realises that he’s woken up with something else too. He touches himself but it fades quickly and his heart sinks with disappointment. His hand closes around the pill bottle but he pauses after he shakes them into his hand. Maybe a few more days without them and he’d be able to get hard again. He wants to do that for her, for his Glory. She deserves someone who can satisfy her, one last time. He doesn’t know which ones are causing the problem, so he stops taking them all. It doesn’t help with his pain, or his mood, but three days later he wakes up at 6am with a raging hard-on and remembers what Gloria had said about any time.

“Glory,” he whispers, shaking her a little, but she’s fast asleep.

His hand trails down her body until his fingers find her clit. Circling it, he watches her react in her sleep, wriggling and sighing. The pain in his belly is excruciating, but the ache in his dick is more important. And the feeling that this is their last chance to properly be together. Things have been escalating with the Colonel and he’s sure someone will be here soon to try and drag him back to Memphis. His fingers slip inside her pussy as he continues to stimulate her clit with his thumb, feeling her getting wetter as she gets closer to orgasm. When it hits she makes a surprised little noise, her eyes fluttering open and looking up at him.

“Is it… are you?” She mumbles, confused and euphoric and hopeful all at the same time.

“He’s awake,” Elvis replies, pulling the covers back to show her his hard, weeping dick.

Her eyes are full of list staring at first his dick and then his face, thinking about how much she wants him inside her. How much she wants to feel close to him like that again.

“Fuck. Oh I want you so bad, big boy. Please fuck me.”

He pushes her knees up so her feet come off the bed and positions himself between her legs. Slowly, gradually pushing inside her, watching her face, stopping when he can see it’s hurting her and carrying on when she gently touches his arm. When he’s fully inside he lies on top of her like he did that day on the beach in California, his head buried in her shoulder. He starts to move inside her slowly and her arms wrap around him as she feels tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She knows this is the last time. And not because he’s getting married, or because she is, but for a much more permanent reason this time. She knows he’s dying and she feels like he ran away to Hawaii to do it. She’ll never feel this again and as his movements speed up she can’t stop the tears spilling down her cheeks.

“N-no. No, Elvis. Slow down. I want… I want to enjoy this. P-please.”

He moves his head to look at her as he forces himself to move slowly. When he sees her crying he knows she knows too. He presses his lips against hers as his tears start to flow. Their tears mingle as he rolls his hips against her, both of them sighing with pleasure even as their hearts break.

“So tired, baby,” he mumbles against her lips.

Her hand goes to his cheek. “I know. I know.”

“Haveta… has to end…” he continues, and she feels him speed up.

Sobs wrack her body as she closes her eyes to feel him better. He comes with a small cry, and then he’s still. Softening inside her as he lies there, panting. She can’t stop weeping, and when he finally moves his head she sees he can’t either.

“I wish I’d never let you leave that beach!” She cries out, unable to stop herself.

“I wish I’d never gone. We shoulda run away together then, Glory. I shoulda been braver.”

She throws her arms around him, pulling him against her tightly. “It’s not your fault. Oh fuck. I love you so much. I don’t want you to… can’t you get well?”

She feels him shake his head against her. “Too late, baby. Too late fer all that. Jus’ have to hope the Colonel doesn’t get here first.”

First. Before he dies. Gloria wonders if she’ll ever stop crying. Then she remembers Corey and Jackie. She’ll have to.

***

Pat agrees to take the kids to one of the other islands for a couple of days when Elvis’s condition takes a radical turn for the worse. They say goodbye to him like they’ll see him again soon, and she doesn’t have the heart to tell them this is most likely goodbye for good. She thinks on some level they know, even though he’s trying to act cheerful for them, he’s been in bed for the past few days and can barely get out of it. She called Priscilla and got her to bring Lisa-Marie for a day too, so that his little girl could see her daddy for the last time. Priscilla and Pat get on well and Elvis’ ex-wife decides to go with them to the other island, make a proper vacation out of it. Part of her wants to stay and be with Elvis when he dies, but she sees he has someone else for that.

She does stay to watch Larry marry them though. He performs a little ceremony whilst they sit in the bed in Elvis’ suite. Gloria helped Elvis dress and he’s in a white suit with a pale blue shirt underneath. She wears white too, and a garland of flowers in her hair. They even have a little cake afterwards, and Gloria throws her garland for Lisa-Marie and Jackie to fight over. Lisa-Marie wins. Any worries the kids might’ve had about Elvis were blown away by the wedding, tiny though it is, and they leave full of joy. Things get worse for Elvis as soon as they’re gone. He’s used up all his energy on staying cheerful for them, and on marrying Gloria. He lies down in the bed and sighs with exhaustion. Not long now.

Gloria stays by his side for two days and nights, keeping herself awake with coffee and stimulants, watching over him. On the third day she feels herself getting drowsy.

“I’m just going to take a little nap, big boy.”

His head moves slowly to look at her. She kisses him gently, and is about to pull away when he pushes his tongue into her mouth, his hand somehow making its way to the back of her neck. She savours the kiss, but she’s almost asleep. Her eyes close.

“I love you, Gloria. You’re the love of my life. I’ve never known anyone like you. You’re my girl.” It takes a tremendous effort for Elvis to get the words out, but he has to say them. His head falls back on the pillow with exhaustion when he finishes.

“Love you… too… Elvis…” the words slur as she falls into a deep sleep. Part of her brain is telling her she shouldn’t, but she’s been awake for too long and her body takes over.

He watches her as he feels the life slipping away from his body.

His Glory. In Hawaii. At last.

Softly, I will leave you softly / For my heart would break if you should wake and see me go / So I leave you softly, long before you miss me / Long before your arms can beg me stay / For one more hour or one more day

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @argangelbornxoxo @presleyhearted @lvrdollep

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc

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gqueerb · 3 days ago

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I will never forgive Lestat and Armand for the part they played in Claudia and Madeleine's death but the fact that Armand gets more hate for what happen to Claudia than Lestat in the fandom is insane to me and I LIKE Lestats dramatic sassy ass dont get me wrong, Im hyped when he shows up in a scene. But especially with how he kept framing Louis (whos not inocent no but has been manipulated by Lestat since he was a human and abused by him as a vampire) through all this as the problem for wanting to leave and forcing him to loneliness 🙄 and cruel for giving him the silent treatment after he dropped him from the fckn sky and not wanting to fuck lestat after Claudia left which is why he had to turn to Antoinette's bony flat ass like he hadnt already been hitting that since from way back when .. like what?

and dont even get me started on claudias turning scene and how this doesnt change anything, the fact that louis didnt fully process the extent of what Lestat was telling him while being traumatized and desperate to save her life as his form of "penance" and someone to possibly be his family which is so unfair to claudia and one of the ways in which Louis is not inocent either but doesnt in any fckn way make lestat a victim and Louis the bad guy in their dynamic (once again not that Louis is a inocent - he isnt - or anything but cmon)

All I'm saying is if youre gonna hate on Armand with such a passion be sure to do the same with the white vampire (especially since ppl treat the fact that a 500y vampire wasnt ready to sacrifice his coven of 200y for a guy he'd been fuckn for a while and repeatly told to get the fck out of Paris since he met him bc it wasnt safe and was clearly using him as a rebound is crazy - again from claudia and louis perspective he is and will always be a manipulative bitch that I WILL NEVER FORGIVE FOR HIS PART in Claudias death but from his perspective...like I don't like it and there was a better way to handle it, i hate it in fact but I do get it)

Like hate on Armand for this and that fine just then keep the same energy with Lestat ppl its all im saying.

(and again I like Lestats cunty sassy ass)

bc if we're really honest and unbiased yh Lestat saved Louis but you know who he didnt save CLAUDIA he didnt even attempt to physically get her away from stage, fight for her nothing!!!

and he knew that Claudia dying would kill a part of Louis he would never get back

Idc what Anne Rice herself comes to me as a ghost and says "he would have if he could but he really couldn't save her "or anyone invoveld in the show for that matter bc what was actually SHOWN to us throughout the ENTIRE series is that his focus has always been on Louis (it was never about you/it was never you/I made you for louis) and at the end of s1 he was fully prepared to replace Claudia with Antoinette.

We all know that if he by any chance needed to make another attempt to save Louis bc the first one wasn't enough he would have! even if he had to fight a whole ass coven we all know he wouldve at least tried for Louis and he DID NOT lift a fckn finger for Claudia!!

Just bc Armand sucks doenst change the fact that Lestat also sucks is my point I guess.

(which is why I'm baffled at why Louis thought Lestat was worthy of any damn apology or thank you - like yh you saved me but you didnt even try to save our daughter and you were part of the reason I needed saving in the first place sooooo wtf do I owe you anyhting - the acting in that scene much like the acting in the entire series was amazing tho ngl!!)

Keep the same energy or just be honest about the fact that you're bias when it comes to Lestat which if you are thats fine, I can even respect that as long as you're honest and don't try to pass your biasis as a valid argument.

Bottom line Claudia DESERVED BETTER and I'm kind of side eyeing the hatred towards Armand the same way i did the opinions that were going around about his casting just bc he wasn't a white ginger (like what?! 😒) like the way some (not all) of yall talk about it is rlly weird and suspicious ngl

Claudia (+Madeleine) and Daniel are my favorite characters

Everyone else needs therapy, either that or be bathed in holy water or smth

#amc iwtv #iwtv s2 #iwtv #iwtv armand #claudia iwtv #daniel mvp malloy #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #daniel malloy #iwtv daniel #claudia deserved better #!!!!#iwtv rambling #lestat x louis #louis x armand #claudia x madeleine #will never forgive Armand or Lestat for the part they played in her death even if I still like them #don't hate on armand if you're not gonna hate on lestat too

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fatcatlittlebox · 9 hours ago

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I had an ask about why there is a difference in the scene where Halbrand returns Valandil’s sword vs the scene in the forge that I just analyzed and I think it’s an important answer. Firstly, shots of hands always signify something in cinema. Where they are placed, who they belong to, what is being exchanged and even the movements. I could write a whole thesis on Spielberg’s use of it in his films. And it’s no different in TROP. Hands convey intention, intimacy, ownership, emotion. Alot. Charlotte Brandstrom was even asked about the closeup shot of Adar's hand in an interview. The reporter asked her specifically about the scene where Adar is planting seeds in season 1 and this is what she said:

CB: I always start, I mean, first of all, visually, I always like to start with a character moment and not with a geographic moment. I don’t like to find out where I am, but I want to know what it is about. So by starting on a very tight insert of the seeds, I make it mysterious, and I think it’s more gripping because you want to find out more, and it says something right away about the character. And then I cut to wide, and it’s a tendency that I’ve developed more and more, always starting small and going wide, because I feel you sort of grab the audience’s attention and you also, I mean, as I said, you create small character moments, and those are the moments that most important I think in the story. (x)

So there you have it. The director is straight telling you that if you seek insight into these characters, it’s in these small, close details. And they purposefully edit it to keep it ambiguous. Not because they want to keep it vague. It's because there is the suggestion that there's probably more than meets the eye. There are multiple clues and multiple layers at play. These visual clues are supposed to be revisited and reinterpreted.

I bring this up because those close up details are a key difference in the scenes. So, let’s contrast the two: one in which Halbrand returns Valandil's sword to him. It may seem the two scenarios are very similar but there's more to it. As I said --it comes down to the details. In this case, their hands. Notably, you never see their hands in the same frame of this scene. Not in a close-up. Not when the sword is exchanged. There isn't anything sinister about it. It's just not emotional or personal. There is no subtextual communication here between the Valandil and Halbrand. Because this gesture isn’t meant for him. It’s meant for the elf standing behind him. And Galadriel in the background isn’t coincidental. You see the camera subtly shift from right to left to catch Galadriel witnessing Sauron offer the sword. Again, this act is meant for her.

Later, with Galadriel in the forge, the context changes the whole subtext of the knife exchange. First, Sauron can’t help but draw her closer. So he feigns dropping the sheath of the knife so she rushes to his side. The proximity is intimate, charged. Then, there is the act itself of placing the knife in front of her. In the context of Galadriel pleading with him to join her cause, this gesture can be interpreted as symbolic of his acquiescence. A sign of his allegiance, his loyalty and ultimately a pledge of his life. But an added layer to this (after it is revealed that Halbrand had been Sauron), is the deeper, more earth-shattering meaning: he is offering to pay his penance. Sauron, repentant, apologizes in this scene. And this act is subconsciously meant as proof of his contrition. He was this close to facing judgement. Hers. He was this close to telling her and putting himself at her mercy, as if to say, “Here it is. The peace you seek. Seize this dagger and end it all. Take your revenge.”

Between this knife, Valandil's sword and all the way back to when Sauron returns her brother's dagger, he has been telegraphing his loyalty and allegiance to Galadriel every step of the way. That was no ruse. It was not a ploy. Whether this was subconscious on his part or not, his intention had been consistent and genuine. He was offering himself.

Instead, she counters his offer with one of her own. Not knowing she was increasing the stakes. “Bind yourself to me.” No peace shall be found except at her side. And Sauron foolishly convinces himself into believing that this will balance their scales. It is his arrogance (somewhat delusional) the idea that he could be the architect of her pain, and the author of her deliverance. And yet that is very in keeping with his hubris.

#haladriel #saurondriel #charlie vickers #morfydd clark #sauron x galadriel #halbrand x galadriel #trop meta #haladriel meta #saurondriel meta #charlotte brandstrom #my edit

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maeedrg · 7 hours ago

Text

What are we ?

part 3

fake dating Gojo X fem reader

MASTERLIST of the series

part 2 part 3

Synopsis : After months, you and Satoru are still stuck in this dance of playing to pretend. But you both never mentioned back what happened to the jacuzzi. The tension became unbearable, but everything goes down the hill when the higher ups attempt to get rid of you as you were considered useless now. At the same time, they take matters in their hand to find a new suitor for him. Gojo can’t bear the thought of losing you, and he makes a decision for your safety. One that was apparently for the best.

Words count : 7.8k.

Warnings : many deaths and attempt murder, blood, angst, spoilers of the shibuya incident and what comes after, some satosugu implied, beginning of the smut, doomed love, but still some fluff.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : "I can’t wait to show this amazing chapter to other people !" I said with excitement. "Hey what do you think of this chapter ?" "It’s fucking shit !" Said the fuck you guy.

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Months. It’s been months, damn months now, that you and Satoru were fake dating. You didn’t know if you turned crazy, the tension being too thick, too palpable, too much. After what happened in the jacuzzi, Satoru and you never did such a thing again. Even in public, when having to prove a point, the touch of his lips against yours was short, quick, way too quick, actually. Like something burning you, but aching to play with fire longer. Yet, you were left wanting, needy. Months of dreaming of being able to feel again what you had at the hotel. Months of dying to have more. Months of turning mad, as waiting became now impossible.

You didn’t know what Satoru was thinking. Entering the head of The Strongest was something you couldn’t hope to succeed. Years of keeping everything to himself made him extremely good at hiding his feelings and real emotions. This dangerous game of lingering touches, sentences, playing the role of your boyfriend way too realistically, made you wonder what was happening. But unable to know was making you want to rip your hair off your head.

You weren’t the only one to turn crazy. Satoru was as well. Truly falling in madness at stopping himself from going farther. After what happened in the jacuzzi, he realized that if you didn’t stop him, you two would have crossed a line that he was dying to cross, but terrified as well. Because he knew damn well, that once he would, he would be doomed. Doomed because it would be impossible to run away from the responsibilities of his love for you. Satoru was used to loving you in secret. He couldn’t accept that all the time he spent hiding his feelings would go to waste. Because even if he was deeply in love with his best friend, he couldn’t have a happy life dating her. Dating you. He understood that well when playing pretend, even if he understood it already back in highschool, years ago, when his love just started blooming in the innocence of the youth.

Being The Strongest meant any happiness would be taken away from him. Because of his title, and also because of himself. He felt like what happened to Suguru was his own fault, and he would never forgive himself if something happened to you as well. He couldn’t bear to lose you, destroying everything because of his carelessness. After all, in his eyes, dating someone was a far greater commitment compared to friendship. What if he hurted you, and would be a horrible boyfriend ? What if overworking himself would make you hate his absence ? What if him being scared of vulnerability would make you resent him from not opening up ? What if you would break up with him and leave him forever ? He already struggled to be a good best friend, because he did fail once. So being a good boyfriend ? It was terrifying.

In the end he only danced on the line of real and false, enjoying flirting with you, acting like your boyfriend, without the real commitment of his feelings, of his fears, of his nightmares. Satoru wasn’t strong, he was weak, for you. It was better that way, he thought. He wasn’t yours, you weren’t his. But at least, you stayed by his side.

“Satoruuuu, you’re zoning out. It’s your turn !” you exclaim, waving your uno cards in front of the white haired male, that quickly snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Uh ?” he blinks, before looking down at his cards and remembering he had to play the combo he wanted to do. Quickly, he puts three cards on the top of the pile.

“I’m soon leaving for my mission, so let’s finish playing before I go,” you explain, your turn now.

“Hmmm, yep,” he hums, still trying to forget whatever he was deeply thinking about. He had to act like everything was okay, and avoid looking too much at your face, or else… he might lose it and kiss you senseless before he could even realize what he was doing. He clears his throat before asking, “where was your mission again ?”

“In an abandoned hospital. Apparently it’s only some grade 3 curses, it would be easy,” you explain, looking at your cards.

“If you need my help, call me. I’ll be very happy to ditch my meeting with the elders and instead come save your ass,”he says, flashing you his usual cheeky grin.

“I don’t need you to save my ass for some low grades, Satoru,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his bravado.

“I just want to be your knight in shining armor,” he pouts, answering that, before suddenly putting a +4 on the pile. You groan, glaring at him, before taking your due, annoyed. You only had two cards left, and now, six ! He could go to hell, you thought.

“Just say you don’t want to go to your meeting,” you end up replying a bit bitterly, and he just looks smugly at you, grinning widely like an idiot. He was proud of himself. This bastard.

“Exactly, I don’t want to go there and see their annoying old wrinkled face. They changed the location last minute too, it’s not where we usually go,” he huffs, shaking his head.

“Where ?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, intrigued. It wasn’t common, so it seemed weird to you.

“Somewhere in Tokyo, around 20 minutes away from the campus,” he explains, shrugging, putting his hand in his hair.

“Then once you finish your meeting, and once I finish my mission, let’s go to the arcade,” you propose, deciding to cheer him up, and mostly wanting to spend time with him.

“Is it a date ? You charm me, honey...” he coos, winking at you behind his sunglasses, and you can’t help but giggle at his antics.

“Yeah baby girl, I’m a good girlfriend, aren’t I ?” you joke back in a teasing way, hoping to make him cringe, but that only fuels his amusement and eagerness.

“The best,” he drawls, charming, before continuing in a calmer manner, laying back in his seat, “then let’s go to your place after. I wanna eat fast food and binge watch the last episodes of the show we were watching last time.”

“Why my place ? It’s always my place !” you exclaim, faking the feeling of being offended.

“I like… almost live there, so your place it is,” he shrugs nonchalantly. And damn, he was right.

“You should pay rent,” you add, huffing.

“Me spoiling you with food and shopping counts as rent,” he replies confidently, giving you a look with his eyes that means business, and you can’t help but fluster slightly.

“Yeah sure-”

“Uno !” he suddenly cuts you by screaming the word. You open wide your eyes, horrified that you lost and didn’t realize he only had one card now.

“No !”

Quickly after, he wins. You are left defeated, and end up leaving annoyed as he on purpose teased you non stop, saying you just were a sore loser. Satoru could be the loveliest when he wanted, but the most obnoxious and infuriating person in the world as well. Yet, you still loved him for that.

Walking towards your mission, you sigh, needing to snap back of your thoughts and get concentrated and focus your mind on your task. Even if it was supposed to be only some low grades, you could never let your guard down.

And you were right for that. Because Satoru and you weren’t the only one that were going crazy after months of ‘dating’ and nothing happening. The elders weren’t happy at all that you both didn’t fulfill your duties ; marry and then produce heirs. Their old fashioned way of thinking was the way they thought was right. After seeing there was no progress, they decided to seriously act and change plans. You were useless in their eyes. For their sexist mind, if you were unable to be a good woman, becoming a wife and giving children to The Strongest, then you could die. After all, they just wanted for their strongest sorcerer to quickly create new soldiers (his children).

Now, they had to get rid of you in a way or another, and on the other hand, to find someone more suited for the role of becoming Gojo’s wife. You were like a pawn, he was one too. The game didn’t play the way they wanted. Now, you were thrown in the trash.

Walking towards your mission was the steps towards your upcoming grave.

And Gojo walking towards his meeting with the higher ups, was actually his walk towards a closed destiny, and towards the new pawn that would be his supposed future wife.

Truly, fake dating Gojo Satoru brought you bigger problems than you ever expected.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Satoru was sitting in his car, parked some streets away from the place the meeting would normally be. He sighed, clearly not wanting to deal with any more bullshit the higher ups would give him. He groans as he tilts his head backwards, staring at the ceiling before pulling his phone off his left pocket. The home screen was a picture of you and him, one where his arm is around your shoulder, and his mouth biting your cheek as you laugh heartily. He chuckles slightly, staring at the screen like an idiot, as if it would give him some strength for what was about to come. He decides to send you a message, even though you still didn’t answer the last one he sent since you went to that mission thirty minutes ago. Obviously, you were busy. But Gojo was clingy, and had no real personal space with you.

Two minutes pass. You still didn’t answer. He decided it was surely and sadly time to get out of his car and meet the elders. He checks his watch : he was late. Who cares ? He shrugs and closes the door behind him before walking nonchalantly towards the building, hands in his pocket.

Once he stands in front of the location, he realizes it’s a restaurant. A fancy one that he already had to attend to once, for a gathering with some head clans. Alright, that wasn’t so weird, but still unusual to have the elders wanting to discuss with him in front of a meal. He enters, and is quickly greeted by a waitress that makes him follow her. He arrives in front of a door, as each room was separated to allow the clients to eat in privacy. He takes off his shoes and enters the private room, before stopping dead in his tracks.

“Oops, sorry miss. I got the wrong room. Enjoy your meal,” he says, flashing an awkward smile to the woman sitting in front of the table that had numerous plates full of food. But the woman elegantly raises her head and flashes him a smile. He ignores it and turns around, ready to leave.

“Gojo Satoru, it’s nice to meet you. This is not a mistake, we were meant to meet,” she simply answers in a calm voice while sipping on her tea. He raises his eyebrow, turning around to face her. She knew who he was, so that meant... He notices the type of cursed energy moving inside her body. She is a jujutsu sorcerer. But not a very strong one.

“I’m here to have a meeting with the higher ups, miss. Sorry, I can’t be your date,” he replies, tilting his head to the side to eye her down and analyze the woman sitting calmly, but something cunning emanating from her. He directly was on his guard, staying put on his feet.

“You are my date.”

“I have a girlfriend,” he corrects immediately.

“Not anymore,” she whispers, glancing at him. He frowns, not liking at all where this was going.

“What do you mean ?” he snarls, stepping closer to loom over here.

“You don’t have a meeting with the elders, but a date with me. Pleased to meet you,” she explains in a soft voice, but the smirk drawing itself on the corner of her lips betrayed her calm figure. He frowns, all cockiness leaving his face to look at her emotionless. The higher ups had the fucking nerve to trick him, and they will pay for that. Did they think he was stupid ? Did they think they could control his life as they wanted ? Him having you as his girlfriend should have stopped them from trying to force him to meet possible arranged wives. But forced to notice, he was wrong. They barely lasted some months before going back to their bullshit and trying to force him to marry someone. He understood the reason why : since you and him decided to only ‘date’, and nothing more, they got impatient that nothing was happening like they wanted. So, they decided that your couple was now useless, and they wanted to replace you. That was predictable, now that he thinks about it.

He sighs, and then she says her name. He directly recognizes her as the sister of someone he had to deal with for some business of the Gojo Clan. Least to say, this family was annoying to work with.

“Ok, what the fuck is going on ? Don’t tell me these old geezers lied to my face, and instead sent me on an arranged date ? Look, you are very lovely, but this won’t do. I already have a girlfriend,” he spats, annoyed now as his eyes portrayed the coldness of blue he only had when being mad. Which was rare.

“As I said, not anymore,” she corrects, a hint of arrogance in her voice.

“Aren’t you too confident ? Thinking you can take her place like that ?” he says threateningly, not wanting to joke around like he usually does. He had no time nor any patience for that right now. This really struck a nerve.

“No. It’s just how it is. The elders arranged this, as I will soon be your wife,” she shrugs answering that, sipping on her cup of tea before putting it down and looking back at him, clearly not intimidated.

“Excuse-me ?” he chuckles, offended. Wife ? Seriously ?

“An arranged marriage, if you prefer,” she adds unbothered.

“And you agree to that ?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes. It’s a dream to marry The Strongest and give him heirs,” she answers as if it was the most logical reply she could give him. Oh, this poor girl was brainwashed. For sure.

“Look : you and I will never marry, and nothing of that shitty plan they try to arrange. If I had to marry someone, it would be my girlfriend, and nobody else. Yeah, understood ? Good. So, goodbye,” he ends up exclaiming before turning on his hills, opening the door of the private restaurant room to leave. He puts on his shoes in a swift move, before getting interrupted by her voice.

“You can’t marry someone that is dead.” Satoru freezes. What did she mean by that ?!

“Dead ?” he asks, unsure.

“Dead.”

He slams the door behind him, his blood turning cold. It didn’t take more than a second for Satoru to understand what was happening. He was far from stupid, after all. And he was used to the doings of the corrupted elders. The mission you got sent to was your grave. One meant to kill you.

His stomach drops, and he doesn’t waste any more time, trying to call you while he rushes towards the location of your mission. An abandoned hospital that was close enough of the campus to go there by walking : there was only one place possible. His heart quickens, but then stops when you don’t answer.

Fuck. Dread is written all over his face, and Gojo Satoru is panicking. Panicking like he never panicked before. He teleports, entering his car and rushing towards the road, not caring about the red lights. You could be dead right now, cold body covered in blood, alone and forever. No, no, no. He couldn’t accept it.

He never regretted more in his life the decision to have you pretend to be his girlfriend. It just confirmed that Gojo Satoru could never have the chance to fully love someone before getting all hopes destroyed, and them getting hurt because of him.

He prayed to Gods and Heavens that you were alright, believing in the faith that you were a strong girl that could defend herself even against death itself. His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, accelerating dangerously on the road, near causing many accidents.

Please, please, please. Be alright.

His heart was beating so loudly that he could only hear the heavy throbs of it. Once he arrives at the location, he teleports inside the veil that you casted. If it was still up, you surely were still alive. But at what cost ? He promised himself that once he will have you back in his arms, safe and sound, he will avenge you, and make them regret what they did to you. He promised himself that he would never cause any hurt to you. He failed. And he promised himself that if it was the only right solution for you and your safety ; he would never see you again. Being close to him only brings you misery, that’s what he thought. Actually, he brought misery to anyone that got too close. Suguru was the proof, the one and only that he had to kill by his own hands because of his own failing.

He searched for your presence, ears ringing loudly and only having one goal right now : finding you.

He was as quick as light speed itself, dread eating him all over, like a plague consuming his body. He stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the left building, and found the walls of the destroyed courtyard covered in blood. Not human blood, but curses blood. Every single one of them exploded and shattered to dust in what seemed like agony, all around… you.

He murmured your name, eyes wide open, sensing you standing in the middle of your domain expansion. He entered it without any difficulty ; it was prone to crumble any second, feeling how your cursed energy was getting weaker each second that passed.

Trembling, scared, here you were, barely holding to life, standing in a sea of red in the strange calmness of your domain. The moment you feel a presence entering it, you try to see what or who it was, but your weak body only allows you to see blur. In an ultimate attempt to protect yourself, you lift your hand, ready to unleash your one last bit of cursed energy to destroy your opponent, even if you would die doing this.

Satoru rushes towards you, and as you are about to strike in a last breath, you feel strong arms surrounding you and cradling you like a broken doll against a chest.

“Y/n ! It’s me, it’s me. Everything is over, everything,” he whispers in a wavering voice, hugging you firmly. You recognized that familiar scent.

“Satoru… ?” you mumbled, panting and having a hard time inhaling. Satoru was beyond relieved, thanking the universe and thanking your resilience to having managed to survive. He couldn’t bear the idea of having to go to your funeral. Gladly, you were alive. Alive became his favorite word as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. Was he crying ? He didn’t know, didn’t have time to focus on himself when you were in the crook of his chest.

“You did so well. You killed all the curses. You survived. I’m so proud of you. Let’s get you home. Ok ?” The moment his voice murmurs softly in your ear these reassuring words, your body shuts down. Immediately. Your domain expansion disappears, the veil as well, and you simply faint for good in the arms of the person you loved the most, and almost died for.

Satoru kisses the top of your head, checking your vitals. That was bad. Very bad. He scoops you up, and doesn't wait any more minute, bringing you to the campus. His new priority right now : keeping you alive.

Killing the higher ups would come later. Even if it takes months to plan.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

“Gojo, she’s alright. It’s been days now. Let her sleep. I promise she will be able to go home tonight,” sighs the brown haired woman, taking off her gloves as she finished to check your vitals, looking at the white haired sorcerer sitting next to your bed in the infirmary of the school.

“I can’t, I have to make sure that she truly is safe,” he answers firmly, his gaze not leaving your peaceful face. You weren’t in a coma or anything, just sleeping. After the mission, Gojo brought you to Shoko, her having to directly perform urgent rct over your body before it would be too late. Since then, you stayed at the infirmary for monitoring, making sure you would soon be back as healthy as before. The first time you woke up, Satoru didn’t say much, only telling you that everything was fine, and explaining to you what actually happened.

But, he strangely was silent. Just staying by your side, barely talking to you and doing nothing aside from holding your hand, keeping you company. He clearly was lost in thoughts, and too tired to ask why he was like that, you stayed silent as well the following days. On this friday afternoon, once you would wake up from your nap, you would finally be able to go back to the usual. But what would be the usual if your relationship with your best friend, supposed boyfriend, became like that out of nowhere ? You were confused.

“Who would have thought you could care so much for someone to the point of not letting them breathe ? She’s fine. Drop it, geez,” adds Shoko, shaking her head and looking at Gojo’s back facing her.

“I have a heart, Shoko. I’m not as insensitive as you think,” he ends up answering more coldly than he wanted. She stares at him, realizing that he really wasn’t acting like usual. Normally, he would laugh it off. Not now.

“You only are for a very few people,” she continues more softly, and she was right. Gojo knew she was damn right.

“Because I can’t become emotional for every person around me getting hurt and dying. In this line of work, it’s something way too common. If I got worried for everyone, it would never end. That’s how it is,” he explains sighing, squeezing your hand while talking. Gojo being Gojo, for the sake of his title and his duty, he couldn’t allow himself to get affected by his work. That was taking away a part of his humanity, but he couldn’t fight against it. After all, somewhere along the way there was a line he drew not as a human, but as a living creature.

“I know. Everybody becomes like that eventually. But it’s still shocking to see you acting this way. The last time I did see you like that, was with Geto. You... didn’t even want to let me autopsy his body,” she answers, recalling the very few moments in life she saw The Strongest crumbling, which was extremely rare. And what happened on the 24 of december, was something that Satoru himself didn’t want to talk about, because it would be too painful.

“...” he doesn’t answer, keeping his gaze steady on your sleeping face.

“We still don’t know what you did with his body, after you killed him. But, I’m not forcing you to talk about it. So, I’ll let you be for now,” Shoko ends up saying more softly, giving him what seemed like an apologetic smile before walking towards the door. As she puts her hand on the door handle, she stops, hearing his voice.

“Shoko.”

“Yes ?”

“Let me deal with y/n once she wakes up. I want to be alone with her. I’ll bring her home myself,” he asks, more like orders, not wanting it to be another way.

“As you wish…” she whispers, and steps out of the room, leaving the two of you alone in the lingering silence of the infirmary.

Not so long after, you woke up from your nap. Gojo helps you sit down, even if you don't need any help, and you stretch.

“I’ll bring you home,” he simply announces.

“Will you stay at my place ?” you ask, unsure, trying to see if he would react like usual. Meaning he would cheerfully say it shouldn’t even be a question, and that your home was basically his home. Hell, he would even correct you saying ‘our place’. But, he does none of that. You frown at his lack of answer as he silently takes your bag that was on the chair some meters away.

“I’ll bring you home,” he repeats instead, and makes you follow him. You look disappointed, not liking what was happening. Why was he suddenly so distant yet so close ? Not leaving your side for days, but emotionally far away ?

The walk is silent, occasionally trying to make conversation, but it just ended up in a fail. Was he mad at you ? But why would he ? Once you arrive at your apartment, Satoru doesn’t even take off his shoes, staying at the entry. You frown, turning to face him.

“You’re good ?” he asks, looking at you as if to memorize your face one last time.

“Yeah, I am. Shoko healed me perfectly. I’ll probably eat something, I’m starving. Want me to order food for you too ? Some pizza ? We could watch a mo-” you start to propose, desperately trying to make it seem like everything was normal, silently begging him to accept and act like your best friend. Like the usual, normal.

“Y/n,” he interrupts you. You lift your head, and the look on his face makes your stomach drop. Pain and coldness was written all over his face. Why was he looking at you like that ? What the hell was going on ?

“Yes ?” you reply in a smaller voice, scared of what was about to come.

“I think we should stop seeing each other,” he announces, dropping it like a bomb. You swear you just felt your heart crumble into pieces. Damn pieces.

“What ?” you stutter, voice cracking.

“It’s better like that, Y/n,” he says, unable to look anymore into your eyes, staring away. You frown, putting your hand over your chest, stepping closer.

“What the hell are you even talking about ? Are you serious right now… ?” You couldn’t believe it. That couldn’t be real. That was a living nightmare. No, no, no.

“I am,” he simply answers.

“You- you can’t just break our friendship like that, after more than ten years being at your side !” you yell, breathing heavily, anger rising and blood boiling. You couldn’t just accept that.

“I can, I’m sorry,” he whispers, jaw clenching and slowly looking back at you. He felt like dying when he saw the tears in your eyes ready to spill all over your pained face.

“No, you’re not sorry ! And what about this whole dating thing ?! That means we did this for nothing ? The higher ups will have the opportunity now to arrange a marriage and-”

“This will not happen,” he interrupts you firmly.

“But- and us ? Was my help faking being your girlfriend useless ?” you question, your voice breaking even more, feeling betrayed and as if your world was crumbling all around you.

“Look where it brought you, y/n. You nearly died because of me !” he snaps, raising his voice at you, which makes you flinch. Because Gojo Satoru never yelled at you before. Not since you first met him in highschool. And that was a long time ago, longer than a decade.

“It wasn’t your fault ! You did nothing wrong !” you scream back, not caring if your neighbors could hear you now. All that mattered was trying to arrange this situation, one that felt like you were doomed.

“Asking you to pretend to be my girlfriend was a mistake,” he ends up saying, looking dead into your eyes. Your mouth is agape, your brows frowning, and you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. Air knocked out of your lungs.

“I don’t understand your problem here. If you want to stop acting like boyfriend and girlfriend, then there is no problem. End of the plan. But breaking our friendship over that ?!”

“You and I know that it wasn’t friendship anymore, since a long time,” he corrects, stepping closer. And the look in his eyes showed his inner turmoil, the tragedy happening in his head.

“I- Satoru, you are my best friend, I can’t lose you,” you end up whispering, unable to argue against his saying because you knew he was right. You try to touch him, but his infinity is on. His infinity is damn on. You can’t touch him. Can’t touch your clingy best friend, who once said he would rather die than not feel your touch. Can’t touch the person that couldn’t spend a day without being all over you. Wow, your world just shattered. Completely.

“I can’t love you, y/n,” he whispers painfully.

“What are you saying… ?” you have a hard time pronouncing your words, tears rolling down your eyes pathetically, chest tightening and heart feeling like it stopped beating.

“We can’t continue like this. Because if we do, you’ll just get seriously hurt again. I can’t let it happen another time, not to you,” he shakes his head murmuring this.

“But Satoru, this was none of your fault !” you exclaim in an attempt to make him understand that whatever he was saying was just nonsense, a poor mistake.

“It was. If we continue what we have, you’ll hate me,” he steps back, and you can’t even stop him, as the invisible walls around him stop you from grabbing his hand.

“Don’t say that, you know I would never- Satoru. Please, listen to me,” you beg, tears falling on the floor.

“I don’t know how to properly love, y/n. I’ll just curse you. I already did with Suguru,” he whispers, putting his hand over his face, trying to hide how broken he is from doing this, from seeing you like this.‘This is my personal theory, but there’s no curse more twisted than love.’ That was the words he once said to Yuta, his student, around two years ago. He still firmly believed in them.

“No, don’t leave me,” you try to say in between choked sobs, your voice cracking in an attempt to sound less pathetic. It was a fail.

“I’m sorry, it’s better like that,” he says before turning his back to you.

“You’re not sorry…” you fall on your knees, gripping your pants, looking at him leaving and closing the door behind him without one last glance.

“You’re not fucking sorry !” you scream one last time, in a desperate attempt to make him react, to make him come back. But he doesn’t.

Gojo Satoru was your best friend, supposed boyfriend. Not anymore.

Almost fifteen years at his side thrown at the trash for a supposed “it’s better for you”.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Weeks passed, months even. You and Satoru didn’t talk to each other again. You at first desperately tried to, but he ignored your texts, your calls, and even went on long missions abroad. The only thing you had left of him was his belongings at your place, which he never came to take back. You thought about burning them down, but you just couldn’t.

You tried to forget about him, but forgetting such a long friendship was impossible. It was like breaking your soul and throwing it in the void. You couldn’t, even if it felt like it. And it was hard to forget as well, when all you could hear was endless rumors going about arranged marriages with Gojo Satoru. But no one of them ended up being true. Against your will, you felt relieved. It meant the higher ups kept failing their attempts of trying to force him to fulfill his supposed duties.

But everything went quickly once bad things started to happen. Curses attacked the campus, breaking Tengen's barrier. Apparently there was a traitor in the school, the Tokyo one. Gojo and you became incredibly busy, that you barely had even time to rest and think about what happened in between you and him.

Chaos came to life the day of halloween. Shibuya became hell on earth, and Gojo got sealed. He got damn sealed, for god’s know how long. Maybe forever, maybe until you die and everyone else dies.

Your world once more shattered, as well as the rest of Japan. Because Geto Suguru was back, even if apparently it wasn’t really him.

Nanami died. Nobara was in between life and death, and many other sorcerers and innocent life died as well. But, you had an ultimate new goal, no matter how shattered you were after this war in between sorcerers and curses started. No matter what happened in between you and him, no matter how your relationship ended, you had to unseal him. You still firmly believed that he was the love of your life. And even if he wasn’t, he needed to get out of this damn cursed box.

The plan was on. And you weren’t alone in wanting this. Many were ready to sacrifice their life for the sake of unselling Gojo Satoru.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

When Satoru got unsealed, the first thing he hoped to see when getting out of it was Suguru and you waiting for him. But none of that. Instead, he was surrounded by chaos all around him. Kenjaku, this impostor, greeted him, and then Sukuna, possessing his dear little boy Megumi appeared. It was hell on earth, and you weren’t there.

Were you dead ? What happened during his absence while he was sealed ? He couldn’t fathom that you were gone, killed. Did his decision of getting away from you for safety went to waste once he got sealed ?

Once things got calmer, preparing for the upcoming fight in December with Sukuna, Satoru heard about you. You were alive, and apparently you actively participated in the plan of unsealing him. He was relieved, you were alive, maybe not safe and sound, but alive.

Alive became again his favorite word.

Even if not everyone was alive anymore.

One thing was sure, he wanted to see you again. Because he knew that once his battle with Sukuna would arrive, he maybe would never be able to have you in his arms again, to hear your voice again, to laugh with you again. To damnation his decision of staying away from you. He just couldn’t anymore.

But first thing first, he needed to get rid of some pesky rats before going to find you, wherever you were.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

You were in an abandoned hotel, taking place here after what happened in Shibuya. After all, everything in Tokyo was abandoned with the war. Everyone got evacuated, or killed. Numerous places were left unsupervised, you took the chance to stay there, as the area around your original apartment was unsafe right now. Since Gojo got unsealed, which means three days ago, you barely went back to the campus, knowing he would be there training for his upcoming battle with Sukuna. You only went around it to help the remaining students, but nothing much. You were scared to see him again. Terrified. Even if the only thing you wanted was to take him in your arms, relieved that he was back, and not in this damned box. But before the Shibuya incident he stated that you and him should never see each other again. You didn’t dare to break that promise.

As you step out of the shower of the hotel room, changed into pajamas and sighing tiredly, someone knocks at your door. You freeze. Nobody knew where you were exactly, nor the building nor the number of the room. So who was that ? A curse ? Kenjaku ? Your blood runs cold and ready to strike, you open the door, preparing yourself to attack.

That maybe was worse than what you imagined.

“Satoru… ?” you whisper, not believing your eyes.

Here he was, breathing heavily, face and clothes covered in red blood, eyes boring into yours, trying to eat your soul.

“I killed the higher ups. All of them,” he simply says. His first words to you, after months of avoiding you, getting sealed and then getting unsealed, were that.

You open wider your eyes, shock written all over your face, mouth agape. He did it. He killed them. You actually were happy that the jujutsu world finally got rid of these corrupted people. But that meant he had to put more sins over his shoulders, more duties to carry as The Strongest. Something you knew he promised to not do. Something he promised Suguru back in highschool.

“Yuta told me to stop bearing the burden of being a monster alone anymore. But there’s nothing that can be done about that. Back then I was left in the dust. I had to catch up,” he starts to explain, looking at you, and wiping some blood from his pearly white skin. You knew he was talking about Suguru when he deflected years ago.

“I had to do it too, because they were the main reason why I couldn’t love you freely,” he finishes, staring at you. You shiver head to toe, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I missed you, y/n. More than anything. I’m sorry for everything,” he continues, stepping closer to you, but you can’t seem to talk. He was sorry, damned sorry. You try to hold back a nervous chuckle.

“I heard you helped the students to unseal me. Thank you,” he adds, trying to make you talk, and truthfully wanting to thank you for what you did. You stiffen.

“I did,” you finally pronounce. Silence, seconds pass, where the both of you stare at each other. The hands of Satoru twitched, like he was holding himself back. He takes a deep breath.

“I want to take you in my arms and hug you until I can’t breathe. But I don’t want to stain you with their filthy blood,” he whispers, stepping closer, yet still not getting too close. His heart was aching for this, and you bite the inside of your mouth looking at him.

Without uttering a word, you approach him. His infinity directly turns off, allowing you to touch him. You unzip his stained jacket, revealing underneath a clean shirt. Without waiting, you take him in your arms. Satoru feels like he can breathe again, wrapping his hands firmly around your body and finally having you close to his heart.

God, he missed this, so so so much. He can’t believe he managed to survive this long without your touch, without your voice, without your jokes, without you. The only thing that kept him sane was staring at his home screen, or the folder of photos and videos he had of you and him.

It’s suffocating, his hug. Crushing you in his embrace, never wanting to let you go. He stopped himself from burying his face in your neck. If he did, he would put the blood on his cheeks everywhere. He didn’t think about cleaning himself up once he finished exterminating the higher ups. He just wanted to go see you immediately.

“I don’t want to stop, but please, let me go wash my face. I truly don’t want to put anything on you,” he whispers, slowly stepping back against his will.

“What if after this I don’t want to take you back in my arms ?” Lies. You were aching for more. You just wanted to somewhat get back at him. It was mean, but you thought he deserved it.

“Y/n..” he says desperately. You look away.

“Go wash your face before I make you leave,” you turn your back to him. Lies, again.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. Typical behavior of his, even if it wasn’t the right moment for jokes.

You hear him going towards the bathroom, turning on the water of the sink and washing his face. You look at the window, staying in front of it, letting your gaze linger on the destroyed streets of Tokyo.

When will peace be back ? Surely only once Gojo would fight with Sukuna. But, will he come back alive from this ? Your heart throbs at this idea. Even if the past few months were chaotic, your relationship destroyed, Satoru was still the man you had loved for almost fifteen years. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

You then see him in the mirror reflection, standing behind you. You slowly turn around to face him, and the look in his eyes makes you weak. Longing, yearning, loving, desperate.

“I said I couldn’t love you, it was a lie. I love you, y/n. More than myself,” he admits, stepping closer, slowly, scared to make you back down and go away. Your eyes shine as he says the three words you longed to hear, dreamed about day and night, even after he left you.

“I said I didn’t know how to love. That was right. But I just understood that I didn’t need to know how to love for loving you. Because it just became natural, since it’s as easy as breathing. I love you, y/n,” he continues, carefully taking your hand in his, scared that you wouldn’t accept his touch. But you did. And he was glad, because here he was peeling all the layers around his soul, destroying the walls around him, and putting his heart on a silvered plate just for you. Something he never did before, to anyone.

“I love you, y/n,” he repeats for the third time, like a pleading, bringing you closer and kissing softly your hand. You look into his eyes, that had tears in them. Gojo Satoru was crying. In front of you. Vulnerable like an abandoned dog on the road.

“I don’t care if you don’t love me anymore, if you resent me, if you hate me. But please, just let me love you before it’s too late,” he begs, falling on his knees and hugging your waist, his head buried in your stomach. You look down at him, and your hand softly cradles his cheek. He raises his head, his eyes red from the tears, lashes wet, like pearls decorating his irises.

“Earning my forgiveness shouldn’t be an easy task. But I can’t deny how much I missed you, hoping for you to come back. And I can’t deny how scared I was when you got sealed. But now, you soon will have to go fight against Sukuna, and just the mere thought of you never coming back- I.. I can’t just not make the most of our possible last weeks together. I love you, Satoru. So much that it’s dangerous, because I could surely forgive anything you do, as long as you’ll come back to me,” you end up answering, voice shaking from the inner turmoil you had.

Life is brought back to his eyes, and before you can even react, he is on you, kissing you senseless. He is back on his feet, hands cradling your face, lips crashed against yours and molding together. Air enters your lungs like a salvation. Your soul just got healed back by the loving touch of his lips. You gasp, before wrapping your arms around his broader shoulder, and you realize that since the last time you saw him, he gained muscles. His body has changed. What else changed about him ?

As if he would die without your lips against his, he continues to kiss you like it was the last time. You fall on the bed behind you, and he gets on top of you, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue swirls against yours, his left hand softly and gently caressing your stomach under your pajama shirt. You shiver at his touching, realizing how much you craved to feel his touch one more time.

You longed for this, and now you were having it. It was like a dream coming true inside this nightmare all around the two of you. But only this moment mattered right now, nothing else did. His burning fingers go higher, under your breast, and his knee slides in between your thighs to separate them, inching towards your core.

“I need you so bad, y/n,” he ends up saying, panting, his lips finding your neck and trailing burning wet kisses all over your sensitive skin.

“Me too- I can’t wait anymore,” you whisper in between a restrained moan as his knee presses against your clothed heat. You shudder, and his pupils blow when he hears you reacting to his touch like that.

“Don’t say that to me or I will not be able to contain myself,” he murmurs, fingers brushing against your breast, lightly, like a feather. You bite your lower lip, and feel him sucking your neck, leaving a mark, before going down your collarbones.

“Then don’t. Don’t hold back, please,” you practically plead, he lifts his head to look at you in the eyes.

“Are you sure ?”

“More than anything,” you whisper against his lips when he kisses you again, his hand cupping your breast underneath your shirt, before unbuttoning it with his other. You let out a moan of pleasure, and he drinks it up happily, feeling like his heart would burst at finally being able to touch you like this. He dreamed of it, almost every night. It was sinful.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters, opening the shirt to reveal your naked torso, half lidded eyes staring at beauty itself. His breath is caught in his throat, and his growing desire becomes unstoppable.

“Don’t say that,” you answer, caressing his cheek tenderly.

“I mean it. If I had to die, I wish it would be in your arms, against your lips. For me, that is Heaven,” he ends up confessing, looking deep into your soul.

And he meant every word of that.

Now, Satoru couldn’t wait to finally become one with you. After more than a decade of yearning for this, he would make love to you like he always dreamed of. He didn’t care about the consequences of crossing that line anymore. If he had to be doomed for loving you, then so be it. He’ll gladly accept it as long as he’ll have you.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Part 4 (final part) coming soon !

I bet you guys didn't expect this fic to suddenly turn so angsty (oops, my bad), but hey, I actually love to write Gojo's angst. Nah, don't worry, next part includes the smut, and I know a lot of you are waiting for it. It’s like an apology. Anyways, See you !💋

Tag list : @just-another-idk

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #x reader #gojo fluff #jjk #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk series #jjk angst #jjk x you

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sailorluna15 · 2 days ago

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Like Him by Tyler The Creator, but it's Azula and her family.

Azula being Lola Young's part of "Do I look like him?"

From Ursa's point of view, it's her seeing not only Ozai but herself in Azula. She sees how Ozai has infected Azula just like he infected her. She sees how she went from smiling like her, laughing like her, crying like her, dancing like her, singing like her, and even reading the same fairytale books she used to read as a child to imitating her father and abandoning everything that she loves and that's natural to please him.

Ozai sees himself in his daughter. He sees himself as a child in her. A calm, socially awkward child who struggles to make connections with others. A child who spends much time alone, drawing, painting, and playing make-believe. However, he also sees Ursa. When he sees Azula come home with two girls he doesn't know and look happier than she's looked in her entire life, it makes him envious. Seeing her sing, draw, and dance for her mother, cousin, brother, and friends makes him sneer. She doesn't need to do those things. Those things will do nothing but make her weak. He will make her strong. She doesn't need anyone but him. One by one, he chips away at her. Rubs poison on her gums and whispers curses into her ears. He exposes her to radiation and tells her symptoms are normal. He destroys her because she's more useful to him that way. She's more useful when she looks like Ozai than when she looks like Ursa.

Zuko stares at his sleeping child, and a memory flashes through his mind. He and Azula leaning on each other, sleeping soundly. He never thought in a million years that his daughter would come out looking like his sister. When Izumi smiles, laughs, gives attitude, dances, and shows repeatedly that she's quick as a whip, it reminds him of his sister. He wonders what life would be like if Ozai had been different. If Mom had been different. If Cousin hadn't died. If Uncle had taken her with him. If she had gone with them. If she'd had been more like a sister and less like an enemy. Even now, as their toxic relationship has turned into a weirdly close one, she refuses to come home. To return to her keeper. He tried bringing her to his chambers the first time she returned to the palace. She refused. He asks why, but she refuses to answer. He wants to push further, but she looks like she might break if he does, so he doesn't. He tries to get her to stay longer, as his daughter loves her newfound family member, but Azula pushes to go home. She pushes to go back home to the countryside with her wife. He lets her go and only sees her when his turtle duck dances to a concert of hers playing on the TV. Every time his turtle duck sees her Titi singing on stage, she asks when she's coming back to see her lovebug.

Mai gets a little jealous when she sees her old friend interacting with her new friends. She sees the little girl she became best friends with when she sees her with them. How she laughs, jokes, dances, and spends time with them reminds her of how they all used to be before Ozai. Fuck him. Why did Azula have to change? Why couldn't she stay the way she was. Funny, witty, protective, and kind in her own little way. Mai sees 'Zula in Azula. She wants to be friends with 'Zula again, but she doesn't know if they can ever return to that. She still harbors resentment and hate for the things Azula has done, but she still loves 'Zula. She always knew 'Zula was still in there somewhere, just hiding to keep safe. Azula's here because it's unsafe for 'Zula to be out. Azula protects 'Zula. Azula hurts others to protect 'Zula. Mai and Azula are cordial now. They laugh together about old times and about new things too, but Mai can tell it's not the same. Azula is always a bit guarded around all of them. She's protecting 'Zula. Mai guesses 'Zula doesn't feel safe around her anymore. It hurts Mai a little to know that Azula is the only version of 'Zula she'll ever see anymore.

Ty Lee is a little like Mai. She sees 'Zula, but she sees Azula more. She's happy Azula has changed, glad that 'Zula's. However, she can't help but wonder why she and Mai weren't enough. Why couldn't Azula change for them? She knows it isn't that simple. Azula was protecting herself the best way she knew how, but it still hurt to see her treat people she'd known since she was 16 better than people she'd known since she was 6. What's so special about them? Her new friends act protective whenever she and Mai are around. As if Azula needs their protection. As if they hurt Azula. She knows they fucked up with Azula, but Azula hurt them way more than they hurt her. They all agreed to let everything go. They both have apologized to each other and have shown growth, but things will never be the same. Azula won't even let Ty behind her. If she thinks Ty is behind her, she immediately turns around or maneuvers herself to where Ty Lee is in her line of sight. Ty Lee guesses it's only fair. Whenever Azula lights something on fire, Ty Lee creates a healthy distance and gets nervous. They're cool, but there are some things you can never forget.

This was supposed to be a little short but it got long. LEMME KNOW IF YALL WANT MORE.

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gs29 · 7 hours ago

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A Surprising Reunion

Squid Game Master list

It had been years since Jun Ho had last seen his older brother, the man he had once looked up to, before everything had shattered. After all the chaos, the secrecy, and the horrors of the Squid Game operation, Jun Ho had believed his brother was gone. He had watched as his brother fell—believed him dead in that cruel, unyielding game. But now, as he sat in the quiet warmth of his home, his two-year-old son babbling happily in the living room, everything was about to change.

The doorbell rang.

Y/n glanced up from the kitchen where she was busy preparing dinner. The clock on the wall read 6:30, and it was a little odd for anyone to be visiting at this hour. She wiped her hands on a towel and moved toward the door, wondering who it could be.

As she opened it, her eyes widened in confusion.

Standing in the doorway was a man she never thought she would see again. He was dressed in black, his posture commanding, but there was no mistaking the familiar, sharp features—the same eyes, the same jawline. It was him.

“Jun Ho…” The voice was low, almost a whisper.

Y/n froze, the blood draining from her face.

Standing before her was none other than the man who had disappeared, the man whose death Jun Ho had never fully accepted.

The Front Man.

Jun Ho’s older brother, In Ho.

Inside the apartment, Jun Ho was in the living room, playing with Joonie. His heart felt lighter than it had in a long time—life was good. His wife, his son, everything felt like it was falling into place, and yet, he couldn’t shake the nagging emptiness that lingered deep inside him. The loss of his brother had created a hole that nothing seemed to fill. Even after everything, even after all the time that had passed, part of him still felt like he was waiting for some sort of closure.

But he hadn’t expected closure to come knocking at his door.

The sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway caught his attention. Y/n’s voice, soft but with a tinge of something strange in it, echoed through the apartment. “Jun Ho…” she called, her tone faltering.

A sudden tension coiled in Jun Ho’s chest. He stood up, his instincts kicking in. He had no idea why, but something about the way she called his name made him uneasy.

Before he could make it to the door, it swung open, and there stood his brother—alive, standing right in front of him, looking exactly the same as he had when they last saw each other, all those years ago.

Jun Ho froze, his heart stopping in his chest. He blinked, feeling like the ground had slipped out from under him.

"In Ho…" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room went silent for a long, agonizing moment. Jun Ho just stared at him, unable to process what he was seeing. His brother was alive. Alive. After everything—the Squid Game, the betrayal, the gunshots—it didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be real.

In Ho looked at him, his expression unreadable, a faint trace of sadness in his eyes. His lips curved into a small, tired smile, as though the weight of the past still hung heavy on him.

“I’m sorry, Jun Ho,” In Ho finally spoke, his voice surprisingly soft. “I couldn’t let you know I was alive. It… it wasn’t safe for either of us.”

Jun Ho’s breath caught in his throat. "But… but I thought you were dead. I watched you fall… I—" He broke off, his mind racing to catch up with the impossible reality in front of him.

In Ho stepped forward slowly, his eyes never leaving his younger brother’s face. "I know. I wanted to end it, Jun Ho. I wanted to disappear, to make sure the Game died with me. But I couldn't—couldn't leave you with that… that nightmare hanging over you. I had to make sure you were safe. So I let you think I was gone."

Jun Ho swallowed hard, emotions flooding him all at once—relief, anger, confusion. He wanted to reach out, to pull his brother into a hug, to shout at him for leaving him alone in that chaos. But his body froze, unsure of what to do.

Finally, it was Y/n who stepped forward, her voice breaking through the haze. “You…” Her hand trembled as she reached out, staring at him. “You’re really here. You’re really alive.”

In Ho’s gaze softened, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "I should have contacted you. I should have told you. But after everything—everything we went through, I thought it was better this way."

Joonie, who had been quietly observing from the corner, suddenly toddled over to In Ho, his small hands reaching up. He looked up at the unfamiliar face with wide, curious eyes. “Papa?” Joonie asked, his voice innocent and confused.

In Ho looked down at the child, his heart tightening. "No, little one. I'm not your papa," he said, bending down to meet Joonie’s gaze. "But I’m your uncle."

The simple words hung in the air, and a quiet, painful understanding passed between the brothers. In Ho had been gone, had been trapped in his own self-imposed exile, and now he was finally back, but the world had changed. Jun Ho was a father now. There was so much time lost, so much to catch up on.

Jun Ho watched In Ho interact with Joonie, his heart conflicting with the warmth and distance that had developed between them over the years. This was his brother, the same man who had once guided him, who had once shared his dreams—who had once taken a very different path.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jun Ho finally whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought I had lost you.”

In Ho looked at him with a somber expression. “I know. I was a coward. I didn’t want to drag you back into that world. I didn’t want to hurt you. I made choices that… I can’t undo. But I’m here now. If you’ll have me back, I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

For a long moment, Jun Ho didn’t speak. His brother had hurt him, had caused him so much pain, and yet… here he was, standing in front of him—alive. And even after everything, even after all the years of uncertainty, a part of Jun Ho’s heart still longed for the connection they had once shared.

Slowly, Jun Ho stepped forward, his breath shaky. "You have no idea how much I've missed you, In Ho," he said, his voice filled with a raw emotion. "I didn't know how to live with the thought that you were gone. But now—now, we can figure this out. Together."

And in that moment, the weight of the past seemed to lift just a little bit. There were still many things to face, many wounds to heal, but for the first time in years, Jun Ho felt like maybe—just maybe—his family could come together again.

Joonie, oblivious to the tension and history that had been tangled between his father and uncle, reached up again, this time pulling at In Ho’s sleeve. “Uncle play?” he asked, his big eyes hopeful.

In Ho’s heart swelled, and he chuckled softly. “Yeah, little one. Let’s play.”

Jun Ho, Y/n, and In Ho—three people who had been separated by the past, but now, perhaps, could begin to heal and rebuild. It was a messy, complicated reunion, but it was theirs. And that, in itself, was enough.

#squid game x y/n #squid game #jun ho squid game #squid game front man #squid game x oc #squid game x reader #squid game x you #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho #jun ho x reader #dad!jun ho #dad!jun ho x reader #dad!#x reader

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bibibbon · 12 hours ago

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Hi, another idea. Delaware made a post talking about how Mina was anti gadget on the sport festival (she faced Aoayama who was wearing one, note how he doesn't anymore after that... maybe he does and I'm mistake) it was an Answer for an ask.

But it was noted how she think less of Aoayama and how no one in UA seems to care for Aoayama as a student till the big reveal.

It makes me think if Izu had a gadget...people would.hate on him. Many fics love make BK ruining his gadgets and I can see it but Mina went straight to the gadget (one may say that was a clever move on her part but it felt as if she was bullying him) so...I think if Izu was to use gadget ...he would be even more an odder duck.

I say this bc in my TTau. I want to have Izumi to wear gadgets to prevent her bones to shatter and we see A1 being shitty friends, ofc. Karma is coming to them.

Izumi sees how UA has no care in teaching how to use quirks and many heroes are content in use the basic. Mirio learned how to control his quirk alone (nighteye gets no credit here as he didn't lift a finger) and wonders what's the point in being a hero? Why do we need a hero anyway?

Hi @mikeellee 👋

I don't think mina is anti-gadget or she isn't anti-gadget on purpose, that is.

What I mean by this is that mina aimed for yuuga's belt because she thought it was the easiest way to take him out. Now, this is only fair as it definitely was the quickest way to win that fight as the problem with yuuga is that he is DEPENDENT on that support item and therefore he can't do much without it.

You can argue that her aiming for his support device is unfair, but that argument falls flat when the whole premise festival is to do whatever to win as long as it's not outright killing your opponent. The argument then falls flat again when you put this in a real-life villain vs. hero type of situation where people will do whatever, however cruel or nasty it may be, to win.

The thing is, yuuga still does wear his support item, but it blends in well with his hero costume, which is the only time he actually uses his quirk. The support item sticks out like a sore thumb when yuuga is in his sports kit, so maybe that's why you got confused.

I don't ever remember seeing mina stating or thinking that yuuga is less than her or anyone else because of his use of a support item.

Also, I think the lack of focus or care for yuuga before the traitor arc was both intentional and somewhat of a writing issue. Horikoshi deeply neglected the traitor plot surrounding yuuga, and because of that, we don't get much of yuuga or foreshadowing to his character arc. I also like to think that yuuga probably had a strong internal conflict within him due to the role he had to play and how he could never be who he wants to be due to the connections he has with AFO. Due to feelings of guilt and not wanting to cause harm by staying ignorant, yuuga probably tried and failed to distance himself from class 1A.

The argument kinda ends up falling apart when you do realise that in Canon izuku does have a gadget. Remeber the support item that Melissa made for his arm, yep izuku has that and he constantly wears it with his hero outfit and we don't see much comments on that.

All mights point to izuku was to not rely on support items which he has a point when it comes to that but does end up coming off as harmful advice if you take into account how All Might is as a character.

Again, I think it depends on the type of gadget that izuki would use for people to exploit it. Something such as his arm bands are okay because he can function without them, and honestly, the arm bands aren't easy to reach at all, not without izuku punching or hitting someone.

The TTAU sounds like a great way to tackle some of the issues that the narrative has. I do think that you should introduce a nuanced conversation when it comes to support equipment. Leading izumi to such a conclusion is also interesting because heroes are supposed to help, and hero schools are supposed to help you improve and strengthen your quirk, but ua does it with almost no direct support given to the students.

#mha #bnha #thanks for the ask #thanks for the ask!#yuuga

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thatiranianphantom · 15 hours ago

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it's the light, it's the heart (and I don't want to waste it)

Five days.

Five days, that’s all they got.

And the thing is, she knew it wouldn’t last. Fiyero is so full of hope, always, whispering in her ear about secret castles and escaping far away and how finally, finally, they can have their happy ending.

But life has never allowed Elphaba Thropp happiness, and even less so for The Wicked Witch of the West. Frankly, it feels insane she’s allowed even this. She wakes up warm, to a heart beating underneath her, to hands touching her with gentleness, to laughter and songs and his warm blue eyes looking at her with love.

And even still, even as she feels so, so happy, there at the back of her mind, she knows the hunt has begun. She knows if she stays, if they stay, they’ll find her, and they’ll kill. More than that, they’ll kill him. She wants to keep this, she wants so badly to bottle up this happiness and keep it forever. But she was never born for this, so the best she can do is keep him safe, and for however much longer he lives, she will clutch onto the memory of those 5 days with both hands.

It feels like she’s melting from the inside out, preparing to have to tell him he needs to leave. She kisses him desperately, strokes her fingers along his cheeks, knows he feels her hesitation.

“Fae,” he begins, and that’s as far as they get before the sound of rifles cocking fills the air.

Fiyero, her brainless Fiyero, shoves her behind him. Pushes himself in front of her to make sure they can’t get to her, nearly chest-level with the barrel of the guns.

He tells her to run, as harshly as she’s ever heard him.

“Elphaba, run. Go!”

She sees the look in his eyes, feels the terror that sings through him, and yet he pushes her away.

“I know what I’m doing. Go!”

He does. She knows he does. He’s seen things, seen them do things, done things himself. He’d told her this as she lay with her ear to his chest, shifting a hand up to wipe a few errant tears off his cheeks.

Things he had to do. Lies he had to tell. Bodies. Blood.

She knew the haunted look in his eyes, is sure it’s reflected in her eyes. He knows what the Gale Force has done. What they’ll do to him now.

He promised her forever, and both of them knew they’d probably never get it, but for a moment, she let herself believe. He’d always had enough faith for both of them. And as he turns back to her, just for a second, his eyes catch hers, and it’s Fiyero. Her kind, brave Fiyero. She allows herself the naivete that only he could strike inside her, pushes her broom off the ground and sails into the air to safety.

They’ll meet at the castle, he told her. They’ll be together always. And their lives could start again.

She makes toward the west, and that is when she hears it.

The crack of a gunshot. The thud of a body hitting the ground.

And she knows.

It’s not the guards. She knows it. She doesn’t see it, but she knows. It’s the way her entire soul stutters, the way her breath is sucked from her lungs in a split second.

Distantly, Morrible’s voice plays in her head. If you could learn to control your powers….

But there is no control now. There’s certain death down where she left, but he’s hurt, she knows it.

That feeling rises up inside her, that formerly-unknown that takes her over, sends sparks crackling through her fingers, sparks shooting through the air.

And suddently there are no more guards, their bodies sailing through the air and far away, not dead but gone.

And as soon as her feet hit the floor, she crashes over to his prone form. He’s curled into himself, and at first she doesn’t see the blood, but as she unrolls him, there is….so much blood. His stomach is covered in red, his jacket dripping.

He groans in pain, and she strokes his cheek, gently lifting his eyes to hers.

He meets her gaze, his face mottled and brow furrowed in pain, but still, so full of love.

“It’s…okay,” he gasps. “I’m okay.”

A wry snort leaves her mouth. “No part of this is okay, Fiyero. What were you thinking?”

With great effort, he reaches a hand up to stroke over her cheek, a spurt of blood leaving his wound.

“You’re safe,” he breathes. “It’s….it’s okay.”

A look passes over his face, a look that if she were anywhere near cognizant right now, would remind her of the same look she gave to him as she prepared her heart for saying goodbye.

“Go, Fae.”

She looks at him incredulously. “I’m not leaving you here, Fiyero.”

“You have to. I’ll just…” he gasps out a breath, and his breathing labors. Her heart races faster, dread filling her veins. “I’ll just slow you down.”

Elphaba shakes her head heavily, lifting him under the arms and opening her hands for her broom.

“No. Absolutely not. This is not how it ends. This is not,” her voice cracks, one hand moving to pass her nails gently over his cheek. “This is not how it ends for you. Not you.”

“Fae…”

“No.”

And then she’s straining to lift him onto the broom, his back against her chest, fighting with every muscle she possessed to keep him up as she kicked off the ground.

She barely registers where she is going, acts on pure instinct, keeps a hand to his chest and tries not to think about how slow his heartbeat is. Tries to ignore the blood dripping off the broom.

She honestly couldn’t be sure whether the Animal outpost is seconds away or days, but she nearly collapses as she lands, throwing her arms around him as the Animals cautiously exit to see what the commotion is.

“S…save him,” she gasps. “Oh Oz, please save him.”

The look on their faces is one of horror as they take in the Wicked Witch of the West, clothes askew and covered in blood, the deathly pale man in her arms, the magic crackling from her body.

Cinna, the Horse in charge of the outpost, writhes back in shock.

“Elphaba,” she huffs. “The captain of the Gale Force? You know better than anyone else what they do to us! If we were to save him….why, would any of us survive another week?”

Elphaba shakes her head, feels the action whip the tears off her cheeks. “He’s not…he won’t hurt you. He’s good. He’s good, I promise. He’s been helping, all along…”

Still, Cinna shakes her head. “It is too dangerous. And look at him,” she waves a hoof at Fiyero, limp and breathing so faintly.

“He is almost…”

“Wait!” A voice sounds from behind him, and Elphaba turns her swollen gaze on a grouping of other Animals, staring at the man in her arms with horror.

“It’s him!” a Sheep says, trotting up to Fiyero and bending down to examine his face. “The guard that let me go!”

He swings his gaze to Elphaba, who chokes back another sob. “I was…I was in the Emerald City, at one of those horrendible prisons. He told the others he was going to interrogate me privately. I was….Oz, I was terrified, and then he…he let me go, told me to come here and not tell anyone.”

“I as well,” says a Tiger from behind the Sheep. “He cut my restraints, created a distraction. He is a friend to us, Cinna, not a danger.”

Cinna takes a long look at Fiyero, and he tries so hard to meet her gaze. “Nice….to meet you,” he gasps with effort.

“Cinna,” Elphaba pleads, “I would never put you or the other Animals in danger. He is no danger. He is an ally. And he’s…he’s hurt. The other Gale Force members…they shot him. Please. Please.”

There is an endless moment as the Horse sizes both of them up, then her head bobs.

“Lay him on the infirmary table. Get the tools, and some blood.”

The Animals take him from her arms, carry him to the infirmary, and she grasps onto his hand and follows them.

He screams. She’d scarcely thought he had enough strength in him to scream, but they funnel some blood into him, try to extract the bullet, and he clutches her hand, screams, and sobs. It slices through her, carves out her insides as he begs them to stop, pleads with her.

“Please,” he gasps. “I can’t take it, Fae. Just let me go.”

The words slice through her. No, she won’t. She can’t, because suddenly she can see that future he’s talking about. A house, a little cottage, warm and homey. A ring on her finger, a kick in her belly. She wants it, she wants it so much. That they could have it….she can’t let him go. Not him. She shushes him, tells him to save his strength, combs her fingers through his tangled blonde hair and dabs at his forehead with a wet rag.

She doesn’t miss the looks the Animals give each other, both when they look at the wound and they look at Fiyero and Elphaba, dread and pity.

But she tells him not to give up, tells him to hold on.

“We have to get to that future,” she whispers, her head against his. “We’ll do it. We’ll run away. You and me, find somewhere nobody knows us, start again.”

His eyes gleam at this, his gaze pained but so soft.

She feels pointless, useless. She can only stand there, letting him grip her hand like it was tethering him to earth. It almost makes her laugh, the great Wicked Witch of the West, powerless.

(The magic is not enough. She’s not enough. She was never meant to heal, only hurt. She couldn’t fix him, pain was as good as her birthright.)

An Animal motions to her, takes her off to the side. She lets go of his hand reluctantly, keeps her eyes on him and not the piles of bloody rags they’re taking off.

“Miss Elphaba,” the Fox tells her. “Our resources…they’re limited. For this type of injury, they’re…not enough.”

Her gaze snaps up. “You said you’d try. You can’t….give up!”

The Fox sighs. “We don’t want to. But we are not doctors. We don’t have what we need. So we’ve had to…”

Elphaba eyes him closely. “You’ve had to….what?”

The Fox sighs. “She’s being discreet, Elphaba. She’s bringing supplies.”

Elphaba’s heart drops into her stomach as the realization of what the Fox is saying sinks in.

She.

She wants to protest, wants to argue, but Fiyero gives a pained groan and she rushes back to his side, for the first time looking at the blood surrounding him, the angry red around his wound, the pallor of his skin.

He’s dying, she realizes. He can’t hold on much longer.

And she can do nothing.

But maybe Glinda can.

She doesn’t arrive in the bubble. And she’s not wearing pink. No, a cloak is thrown over a plain blue dress, and a satchel full to brimming swings against her hip.

Something deep inside Elphaba calls out for Glinda to look at her, for her best friend to see her, the first person to love her for who she is.

But Glinda doesn’t, just distributes the supplies and tugs gently on Fiyero’s other hand, muttering something about needing to save him again, her smile softening the words.

He tries to smile back, quirks a corner of his mouth, and Elphaba assumes maybe that’ll be it. Maybe that’ll be it forever, and for once she’s thankful for the bustle of the room as Glinda steps back and the Animals begin applying salve to his wounds.

She moves to comb back his hair with one hand. It’s tangled and sweaty, and she thinks wryly that he’d hate that, proud as he was of his hair. His grip on her hand has loosened and she hates every second about this stasis, this inability to do anything but wait.

“It’s okay,” the voice says from behind her and Elphaba nearly jumps a foot in the air.

“What?”

Glinda slides up beside her and Elphaba feels a lump rise to her throat. She misses her best friend, she misses her so very much, but perhaps it’s another thing she was never meant to hold.

“I said…it’s okay. It’s not….I don’t hate you, Elphie.”

Elphie. The name nobody has called her for years. The tears spring forth, the force of them, of this whole damn day, nearly bowling her over. She feels a hand slide around her waist, a head on her shoulder, and she nearly collapses.

She could not deserve this. Glinda’s forgiveness, her love. Not after what she’d done.

“You should,” she breathes. “You…you should hate me.”

Glinda shakes her head, then moves to lay her head on Elphaba’s shoulder, and it’s so warm. It hasn’t been warm in three years.

“You’re in love. And…you’ve always been braver than me. He saw that.”

She reaches out and squeezes Fiyero’s arm.

“Even when I didn’t see that, he did. He never stopped looking for you, not once.”

Elphaba’s eyes well again, thinking of her Fiyero, searching at night for her, throwing off tips to make sure she wasn’t caught, glancing around every corner hoping to glimpse her.

“Elphie…I’m not innocent in this, you know. I let them say…horrendible things about you. I said those things too. But…” Glinda breaks into a sob, loudly, and it almost provokes a smiles. Her irrepressible best friend, still the same.

“I never meant it. I swear, Elphie, but when I realized….I told you, once, that being popular was going to change your life. I was wrong. Well…I was a bit right, but mostly wrong. I was popular, adored by all of Oz. And,” Glinda sobs again, slides both arms around Elphaba.

“And it didn’t matter. Because all I wanted was my best friend.”

And that is what does it, in the end. Hearing that, hearing what she has felt for three years, Elphaba can only lean into Glinda, wrap her arms around the blonde, clutch her bloody fingers in Glinda’s coat as they cry together. But this cry…it feels different. Impossibly, in this strange, sterile room with the man they’ve both loved breathing weakly beside them, something shifts. It feels different.

It feels like healing.

It feels like magic.

They arrange a way to let Glinda know where they’ll be (they. Oz, she hopes they make it to they). Letting go of Glinda is hard, not knowing when they’d meet again. But her friend had wiped Elphaba’s tears.

“Like a comet pulled from orbit, Elphie,” she had said. “We will meet again.”

And Elphaba had laughed through her tears, told her that didn’t make any sense, but it still filled something inside her, something she’d thought long dead.

And Fiyero….he had the slightest pink in his cheeks. So small it was hard to tell, but when Glinda had laid Elphaba’s hands on his chest, then hers on top of Elphaba’s, perhaps, as strange as it sounds, perhaps it had changed something.

Perhaps it had, because the next day, she wakes from her perch beside him, and there are sleepy blue eyes looking at her.

“Morning, beautiful.”

His voice is raspy and unused and so, so wonderful that she throws her arms around his shoulders and weeps into him, feels him try to close his arms around her.

He’s not healed, won’t be for a time, but days later, Feldspur trots up to the door, the widest saddle he can manage on his back, and they begin the long, slow journey out of Oz.

Elphaba gazes up at the sky, then at the road ahead of them. The wind caresses her cheeks, and her lips part, drawing a shaky breath in, then out.

In, out. In, out.

And for the first time in as far as she can remember, Elphaba Thropp feels like it might be happiness they’re heading towards.

#My fics #Movies #Musicals #Wicked #Fiyeraba #Elphaba Thropp #Galinda Upland #Fiyero Tigelaar #Warning mentions of violence and injury #Not too bad but be warned #I cannot drabble we should know this by now

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