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tteokdoroki · 10 months ago

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THE PERFECT SHADE OF PURPLE - suguru geto.

✩ — about. “i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.” suguru geto never thought he’d end up here. in a new city with a new job and a new life. he never wanted to lose his little sister to his best friend. he never wanted to replace her. never wanted to fuck someone who looked exactly like her. but here you are, and geto can’t help but want you the same way he wants her. he just had to get that off his chest… ( 11.4K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! dark content, nsfw, smut, hurt-comfot, open ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au (read part one here !), bakery!au, italics mean the characters are speaking in japanse, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), manipulation, gaslighting, praise, use of oni-chan/nii chan/imouto, fingering (f!receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, bilingual!geto, japanese speaking + fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hehe hi everyone!!! pls im reposting this again :( it was written as a gift for @todorosie and the very idea spawned from her love for geto in my AITA gojo fic !! it’s sort of a continuation and set in the same universe so you might need to read to understand the plot. special thanks to @antizenin for beta reading n helping me come up with some ideas !! enjoy guys, mwah mwah - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

look, i know it’s bad… but my adopted sister and i were always close. she looked up to me and needed me for everything, up until a month ago when she betrayed my trust and fucked my childhood best friend. i got a therapist, went low contact and moved to a completely different country in order to avoid w everything. but nothing helped, i think of my sister every day and sometimes… i picture bad, dirty things. recently i met this girl, she’s the spitting image of my adoptive little sister. they look the same, act the same — i think i’ve started falling for her. i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.

TLDR: i’m fucking and have feelings for a girl that’s a carbon copy of my adopted younger sibling.

the city of new york is meant to be the city of dreams.

at any given moment, your fate can change. anything can happen here, you can make it big and live out your life or you can go home and lead one of regret. suguru geto feels like neither are true for him. the bustling city and flashing lights, busy concrete streets and honking taxis bring the dark haired man anything but joy. suguru isn’t happy here, in new york, despite all the wonders that it holds — irregardless of the grand job opportunity he has waiting for him just around the corner.

suguru geto had the chance of a lifetime to develop his career as a criminal defence lawyer in one of the most opportune cities in the world. his dream since he was old enough to understand the wrongs of the world.

but that’s merely not enough to keep him content, to make him want to stay.

he doesn’t want to go home either, he’s sure he would hate himself for thattoo. it would be a waste of suguru’s talents to return to japan prematurely, with its nauseating air and sense of betrayal that follows him everywhere he goes. home is supposed to be where one is happiest and safest — it’s where his family is, where he was raised and first opened his eyes. but for the lawyer, japan no longer serves to comfort him and only constantly reminds the man of his little sister, who’d fucked his best friend just a month prior.

that very instance was enough reason for him to leave the country in the first place — he had to get out, had to escape the very fact that haunted him day and night.

like any other adult with a shit load of trauma, suguru invests in the best therapist his money can buy — especially now that he can’t spoil is younger sister with it. the older woman with her stuffy office, beady eyes and chipped painted nails had prescribed the man with a short break, a change of pace from the life he was used to, to give himself the grace and time to heal from the heartbreak of losing the two most important people in his life. his best friend, satoru gojo, and his adoptive little sister.

he had no idea where gojo was now, thirty days later, and suguru knew his little sister had probably moved out of their hometown by now to kick start her career. so even if all of that meant that suguru geto could go home…he wouldn’t. he would use the vastness of new york to give himself the breathing room he needed to heal, fill his bloodstream with fresh oxygen so that it would clot and cover up his fresh wounds of betrayal, turn scabs into scars and let him slowly recover.

at least that’s what his therapist had told him to do — in the suffocating purple walls of her office.

yet, so far, suguru’s escape to new york hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. every corner of the city painfully reminds him of the hole in his heart, where his innocent little sister should be. after her graduation he’d planned on taking her here as a reward for all of her hard work, but now, suguru faces his own bitter reality — every landmark has her face etched into its side, skyscrapers and their glass windows refract the light of her smile, while famous dinner spots tie to the endless list of reservations she’d reminded suguru to make. hell, even his daily routine of hailing infamous yellow taxi cabs reminds him of her precious excitement to go.

new york was a city big enough for both geto siblings, but too large for just the one.

it’s a wonder that suguru has been able to live without his sister for this long — it’s only been a month but he’s spent his entire life looking out for her. protecting her. he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has all this extra time.

suguru knew that she was way too dependent on him, it was bad — he was painfully aware of that. but he couldn’t help it, she needed someone to protect her and nurture her, she needed someone to teach her about the dangers of the world. she needed her big brother. perhaps if the dark haired man had been less protective of his sister and given her some sort of independence… then maybe he wouldn’t miss her so much, he wouldn’t have lost his best friend as collateral damage in the process. he would still have the two of them, and she could be happy with gojo.

the guilt of what ifs and what could have beens tirelessly weigh down suguru’s heart at the thought — he caused this. this rift between the soul-bonded pair. if he had raised her better, let her spread her wings like a free bird, then he would still have her in his life.

at this point, he’s realised something dire. suguru can’t live without her, his little sister. her bright eyes in the morning and the sweet tune to her voice when she calls out for him — it’s weird, it’s bad…how much he misses and needs her. borderlining on strange, it’s only now that suguru realises how unhealthy their dynamic as siblings had been. how reliant he was on his baby sister to need him. it should have never been that way, he shouldn’t need her so desperately to function. keeping her under such a close watch was probably what drove her into the arms of satoru in the first place.

the concrete wilderness of suguru’s new home provides no relief from these epiphanies and the chambers of his heart that slowly seem to be dying without his sister. instead he feels trapped in his own addiction, as if he’s going through the withdrawal after dependency on drugs.

whenever suguru feels immense waves of guilt, like a tsunami that might pull him under and replace the clean air in his lungs with the murky water of his own sour thoughts and emotions; whenever he misses home a little too much; whenever he feels like the world his crashing down on him once more — his therapist and her purple nails tapping against her clip board comes to mind. she tells suguru to take a walk, especially when he’s overcome with thoughts of the situation back in december. when his chest feels too tight and feels like picking up the phone and calling his sister before he’s ready to.

so geto does just that, lugging on his winter coat as he prepares to take a walk downtown while the sun sets.

suguru tends to think that his therapist is full of shit.

she believes in the colour purple, she believes that there is purpose and meaning in concepts like colours that are based on fact and science. the light reflects, and people see colour.

as she had explained to the man in an hour long session just two weeks ago, purple is supposed to be the colour of healing; though to suguru, purple makes him feel sick. it’s everywhere, in the lavander-ish off-white walls of his new york-rented apartment, the flowers in the stalls on his way to work, the skies at night. suguru thought he was a rational man, that he was calm and collected — able to see the reasons behind everything he comes across…but he still doesn’t understand the significance of colours like purple and its connection to healing.

all suguru knows is that he did like the pretty hollow shade that formed a ring around satoru’s bright blue eyes. of course, after having the shit beaten out of him for touching what belonged to suguru. for corrupting his innocent baby sister.

aside from that, tonight’s walk is mostly uneventful, full of couples getting ready for date night and business people heading home to their happy families for the night. suguru despises them, strangers on the street minding their own business. he hates these passer-bys for their happiness, a joy he can no longer experience. going home. it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

he misses his family. the warmth and love from his mother, the poor jokes from his father… the looks of adoration and hugs from his sister. it’s not fair. he shouldn’t have had to give that up because of the selfish actions of his ex-best friend.

suguru decides to turn back and head for his apartment when the street lamps start to flicker and turn on.

however, on his commute, a familiar scent tickles his senses and brushes over his nose. the man finds himself following, enchanted by rich flavours that he recognises from his youth — sweet red bean and spicy curries overlay the city’s natural smells and suguru makes an attempt to track it down. like a fool, he sprints after the scent like a hound dog tracking a hunt and stops a few strides short of a quaint japanese bakery with a set of deep indigo flowers climbing up it’s worn down exterior.

suguru recognises the flowers to be shobu. irises.

standing before the sliding doors, geto inhales, overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. the sweet smell triggers memories of home and how his parents would take him and his sister out to get treats when they were small. how that became a tradition for the geto siblings when they were old enough to go out on their own.

he remembers how his sister would beg him for a box of sakura mochi every time they went, and how he would so easily relent — even if it meant spending all of that week’s pocket money. suguru is so carried away with his thoughts that he hardly notices himself taking steps into the bakery, or lining up at the counter, or you.

calling him up to the counter.

you’re a pretty girl. that’s the first thing suguru notices. your eyes are beautiful, a deep brown that reminds him of roasted chestnuts and warm chocolates, your face is round with a soft edge of youth. the uniform that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body and the braids you have are lengthy and black, perfectly framing your face. when you speak, your voice carries gentle dulcet notes that make suguru’s heart flutter — like music to his ears.

you are one thousand percent suguru geto’s type and everything about you, this little bakery attendant, reminds suguru of his younger sister.

right then and there, everything clicks into place for him.

“sir, can i get you anything?” you ask him kindly, not wanting to push or scare away a potential customer. nor pressure the handsome stranger, since he’s holding up your line. “sir?” you repeat, finally garnering his attention after squirming under his intense stare.

not that you mind being stared at by him, for this particular customer is right up your alley.

from his milky skin, desperate to be marked, to his lengthy dark tresses that you’re dying to pull at and tug. his jaw is angular, sharp enough to the point where you fear you would cut yourself should you have the chance to touch it. despite the razor edges to his features, he looks kind…almost wistful, at most. a quality that does nothing to calm the hungry flame catching light in your lower tummy.

the two of you remain admiring one another until a customer in the queue clears their throat impatiently — causing both of you to jump.

“s-sorry,” geto mumbles the apology quickly, his pale cheeks tinged with a subtle pink despite how hot they feel. he’s suddenly become all too aware of the line that he’s holding up. one that he’s not even supposed to be in, since he’d walked in here on instinct anyway. his dark, narrow eyes sweep the counter in search for something, anything to order so that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot in front of you or the rest of the customers.

more specifically, yourself.

“i would recommend the sakura mochi,” then, like an angel sent from the heavens, you try your luck in conversing with suguru in japanese. his nervous and skittish gaze shoots up to your face, shoulders sagging in relief and familiarity. you truly are like a piece of home. like his little sister. suguru likes that more than a normal man should. “they’re popular amongst our customers, it’s taken our owner years to perfect her recipe with the ingredients here. especially since leaving japan.”

suguru grins and nods, spotting the dessert he’s so accustomed to buying in the display cabinet. his heart lurches, yearning for his little sister. “these?” he whispers to you, the syllables of his native language curling around his tongue naturally. “they look just like the ones from home.”

there’s a sparkle in your eyes when he responds, and you continue to speak to him in sugary tones. “they taste just as goodtoo, i promise!”

“then, i’ll take a box.”

“how many? they come in boxes of four, eight and sixteen pieces.”

“just the four, please.”

taking your tongs from the metal counter behind the cabinet, you fish out four of the best pieces of sakura mochi and tentatively place them into a pre-folded cardboard box for the handsome customer. as he dives deep into his pocket for his card to pay, you quickly add an extra piece — uttering something about it being on the house under your breath.

the action leaves both of you bashful and suguru taps his card on the machine you’ve set up for him to pay. “ah, thank you…” suguru searches for your name in the candy scented air and you tap your badge with a cute acrylic nail to draw attention to your name which he breathes out in a husky tone, failing to mask its curious lilt as he returns to english.

“no worries, have a good evening, sir.” you giggle shyly, still managing to bid him farewell.

on his way home, suguru can’t help but to replay the entire interaction in his head over and over again. in his brief three minutes of meeting you, you’d managed to fix the hole in his heart, help it beat properly again. you’re just like her, his little sister, and that is a dangerous fact.

he reaches his apartment with a flushed face, feeling a little flustered, but a lot better than he was before the start of his walk.

after work, a few days later, geto finds himself back in front of the bakery, working up the courage to go inside and see you.

no matter how hard he tried and how much of his work he tried to throw himself into — suguru couldn’t get the vision of you out his head. your saccharine laugh haunted him as he reviewed case files, your timid smile chased him through his lunch break and your small act of kindness (speaking with him in Japanese) has him all worked up and blushing by the time he’s able to clock out for the day.

the dark haired man feels insane, he knows that this is weird — projecting the image of his adoptive sister onto you, but like a man on drugs he can’t seem to quit. he needs to get his fix. he needs to see you again. entering the bakery once again is like stepping into a new domain, and suguru damn near forgets his simple plan to talk to you. order sakura mochi, say thank you, and leave. while he waits in the queue, his courage mounts in slow stacks and anxiety fades, but by the time he’s up front and face to face with you again — suguru’s brain is completely wiped of every word he was going to say.

“ah, it’s you again!” you greet him in japanese once more, instinctively reaching to brush your braids out of your face in order to look more presentable to the handsome stranger who’s been plaguing your thoughts as well. suguru thinks you’re cute, regardless of the rice flour smeared across your cheeks and the various mysterious (though surely tasty) stains that decorate your uniform. he even finds it endearing, the way that you share the same nervous gesture of playing with the ends of your braids like his little sister. “i was just wondering when you were going to come in from the… mmm, cold? you’ve been standing and… uh! staring from out there for a while.” you continue to tease the man warmly in his native tongue, choosing your words carefully and avoiding eye contact with him while you prep the tongs for his order. “what can i get for you today?”

so much for not humiliating himself in front of the pretty girl. “i’m sorry… i’ll just take some sakura mochi again,” suguru begins, this time in english to spare you the trouble of overthinking everything that you say. “i was trying to figure out how to do this,” he places a wad of cash on the counter while you prepare his order. your chocolatey eyes blow wide, sweet glazed lips parting softly at the mere sight. you’re sure there’s enough money in the stack to cover an entire week’s worth of your wages and if a stranger can just give away such a large amount… it makes you wonder what he’s even doing at a humble place like this. “it’s a tip from last time. i never got to thank you.”

“oh… i was just doing my job!” you stammer out politely and prepare to reject the tip, but suguru refuses to let you refuse his gift — forcefully pushing the ‘tip’ over the edge of the glass. he really couldn’t help but to give the money to you, hardly fighting the urge to spoil you with cash like he would with his little sister. besides, the man earned more than enough to drop it on you without putting a dent in his pocket.

“you did more than that… just the simple act of kindness in conversing with me, a stranger, in japanese. that was nice of you.” suguru counters. “thank you. how did you know?”

you work on preparing a thin and white cardboard box for his order before walking along the dessert counter, followed by you. “i had a feeling, a lot of people come in here when they’re missing something,” he frowns and your eyes finally meet his. “someone.” you breathe out, quietly. “i took a guess, figured you might have been from japan.”

“well, you were correct…”

your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name on his tongue as he says it. it’s so gentle it makes you feel faint and you’re absolutely charmed by a man you hardly know. “does that earn me brownie points…?” you trail off, wanting to capture his name.

“suguru.”

“ah, suguru meaning…” giving the man a once over, you drink in his tall frame and dark eyes, the small quirk to his plush lips as he smiles at you… and think. he’s the perfect man in every way, soft spoken and clement, even if he did have flaws or a dark secret — you would definitely choose to ignore it in favour of spending more time with him. once you find the word you’re looking for (and snap out of staring at the poor guy) you speak again. “excellence…it suits you.”

geto chuckles quietly in response, amused by your take away. “your name suits you too, darling. it’s just as beautiful as you.”

when you giggle and grow shy at his compliment — the honeyed melody only serves to remind suguru of his little sister once more. in that moment, he feels something bad and almost wretched stir in his gut just from watching you turn bashful over him. a dark thought in the back of his kind tells him to keep you, so that he can see you like this more often. it urges him to make you need him. like he would have with his little sister.

he’s starting to project, he’s sure, but you make it easy for him, with your puppy dog eyes and tiny little smiles. once geto’s order is packed, four little squares of sakura mochi wrapped in emerald green and brined sakura leaf — smelling of spring and red bean, he pays (with a hefty tip) and inspects the box. “you’ve got to stop giving me things for free, darling. we’ve only just met.” he chides fondly, scolding you like a child as if to make sure you won’t get in trouble with your job. he’s counted five mochi instead of four — just like last time. “won’t this hurt business?” he coos down at you — sending your body into a fit of shivers despite the warmth of your uniform.

“well, i’d consider us friends now that you’ve come specifically to see me. friends can’t give each other gifts?” you quip cheekily — much like suguru’s sister would. “you got to spoil me today, no one is going to notice an extra piece of mochi going missing.”

“friends it is,” surugu purrs right back in satisfaction, preparing to take his leave. cautiously, as though not to spook you like a hunter after a deer in the woods — he reaches over the counter to pat your head affectionately, internally pleased with the way you keen into his touch. “i hope to see my new friend around more often, then.” he hums with pride, and you nod your head eagerly.

like a puppy. like you want to please him.

it reminds geto all too much of his little sister — who only ever wanted to make the dark haired man proud.

over the coming weeks, suguru finds himself at the bakery more often than not. as though it’s a part of his daily routine.

he’ll take his walk after work, stop by and purchase some sakura mochi, before leaving you with another little gift. at first, his gifts started out as wads of cash in place of tips, then slowly turned to more materialistic things, items that you could hood or wear as if they were to geto’s his claim on you. like flowers, jewellery or clothes. things you couldn’t afford on your own, things he’d like to see you in, things his little sister would like to receive if they were still in contact with one another.

suguru knows that you can’t afford these things because you’ve let it slip over coffee and mochi that you rent the apartment above the bakery from the old woman who owns it and can barely afford the new york rent as well. he also learns that you were hired because of your ability to speak, read and write in Japanese.

as much as suguru has spoiled you in the last few weeks, you won’t let him pay your rent though, so tips have sufficed for now.

nowadays, the time spent moping around his apartment while mourning the relationships that he lost are spent growing increasingly obsessive over you. hours upon hours are wasted on thoughts of what gift he might buy you next — like more comfortable work shoes, an umbrella to get you home safe during the rain that just so happens to be designer. suguru spoils you under the guise of just being your friend — at least that’s what it is to you.

to him, he’s spoiling his baby sister. someone who is feeble and needs his help and his protection. he doesn’t tell his therapist any of this, of course, she would deem it unhealthy to see how much of his money and time he’s blown in a little cafe worker.

a cafe worker who’s important to suguru, who haunts his dreams with her perfect curves, and pouty lips whenever he brings you a small gift of his affections. “sugu,” you’ve resorted to calling him, just like his sister would. the nickname was the result of a time where you’d written his name on a coffee order, and customers complained you were taking too long. so geto had told you that you could call him ‘sugu’ instead. however, he would omit details on how badly it affected his brain chemistry …to hear someone he cared for call him that again. “you don’t have to get me an expensive gift just because i make you coffee and get you sweet treats.”

“it’s not just because you get me sweet things or make me coffee,” he had responded, leaning over the counter flirtatiously. “it’s because you do such a good job. you take care of me and my order every evening. make sure i get the best of the best. how could i not thank my sweet little barista.”

you wouldn’t say it, but he knew you liked the praise. he wondered if you felt as dirty and as thrilled as him during these little exchanges between the two of you. on that specific occasion, geto decided to gift you with a pendant, similar to the one he’d gotten his sister — only this time, a purple amethyst sits in its centre rather than the blue gem all too familiar to satoru gojo’s piercing eyes.

maybe this is what his therapist meant by healing. suguru is healing by getting over his sister and replacing her with you.

you are the one that haunts his dreams now, makes his cock stir inappropriately. another thing that suguru woulda never tell his therapist — is that sometimes when he really needed it, he would think of his little sister while fisting his cock into the night air. they weren’t really related, only by adoption so it wasn’t too wrong. sometimes he’d think of her getting railed by satoru, but nowadays he would think of you on his cock instead, calling out for suguru like you need him to function.

‘nii-san!’ - this and ‘please sugu! ’- that, each word uttered in his sister’s voice would quickly morph into yours — the quivering sweet sound always resembling his little sister’s when she cried. suguru, the dark haired man, imagined you would react the same. and more often than not, it was your face that he pictured when he was about to cum.

every single gift suguru got for you were the result of him dreaming about how much he needed you, someone to spoil and protect. someone to need him.

tonight, suguru is a little late for his daily visit to your bakery.

tonight, an important case at his firm had rolled in at the last minute and required attention before a preliminary hearing — but even his job couldn’t keep suguru geto away from you. when he arrives at the bakery, you’re still there, having left the doors unlocked for him to come inside.

tonight, there is no long line of customers out the door to build up the anticipation between you both, the lights have already been deemed and there’s not a trace of life inside of the bakery. aside from yourself, of course.

tonight, you’re on the closing shift instead of the owner’s grandson, choso. who you reassured suguru you weren’t interested in the first time they’d met. with gentle eyes that masked the dark haired man’s fury, geto had told you that he was the only man you’d ever need and you believed him — suguru had a charm for making people dependent on him.

the tiny silver bell stationed at the door jingles and signals geto’s arrival, but you hardly look up from your work — keeping your back to him while you sweep at nothing. you’re hiding the excitement that prickles down your spine, you’ve been waiting to get the man alone for weeks and now that you’re able to… you can hardly contain yourself.

“excuse me, uh…” he says your name so sweetly, as though the words on his tongue are laced with honey. pretending not to know you only makes tonight more thrilling. “are you open? do you have any sakura mochi to spare?” it’s only then that you whirl around to face suguru, your deep brown eyes still bright despite the dimness of the empty bakery — they sparkle with elation, and the plump curve of your lips spike up into an easy smile. you’ve been waiting, suguru notes, like a good little girl.

like a puppy waiting for her owner.

you’ve been waiting to see him.

anticipation claws at the air, sending ripples of kinetic energy into the space between you both — where suguru waits at the door and you stand front and centre in the middle of the room. his murky eyes slink down to your neck where one hand fiddles with the silver chain of your pendant, your nails tapping at the amethyst in its centre. in the same way his sister does when she’s nervous.

neither of you know what’s going to happen tonight, now that you’re finally alone.

“we have some in the back,” you swallow down the heartbeat in your throat you nod shyly when you finally speak. it’s weird how your body has started to react to suguru after weeks of getting to know him, being spoiled by him. the clothes you wear are now covered in traces of him, the jewellery you own is paid for by his dime. this…stranger, who you hardly know yet feel like you know everything about, has invaded every inch of your life… and you’re not even mad about it. you’d rather die than let this go. “i just need to lock up first. if you’ll give me a moment.”

you approach him cautiously, practically pressing your breasts against his chest as you reach behind the man to lock the doors he stands in front of. suguru can already tell that the mood today is different — full of hunger and expectations for something less polite than evening chatter and gift exchanges. his dark eyes follow your every move across the bakery like a wolf tracking the scent of prey.

“why don’t you come with me to the back? and if you don’t mind, could you carry a bag or two of that rice flour? it’s too heavy for me on my own?” you ask him after backing away with a glint in your eye. naughty, naughty. geto likes the fact that you’re asking him, that you need him and he can be your strong suguru.

“sure, anything for you.” he agrees a little bit too quickly, removing his work jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. suguru discards his tie as well — before lifting a sack of rice flower with ease. he pretends not to notice the way you ogle the bulge in his biceps as he does so.

“thanks.” you utter, leading the way to the back of the bakery.

once the two of you arrive in the kitchens at the back, you give suguru some time to set down the sacks of flour and retreat to the many shelves of sweet treats and baked goods that you’d prepared for your shift the next day. you’re sure choso, nor his grandmother, would mind if you stole a plate of mochi for the two of you to share. they trusted you enough, but you decide to forgo telling them for now.

“i was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say as you set the desserts out on the metal table for him, suguru hates the guilt that he feels for leaving you for so long. “seeing you is the highlight of my week.”

“are you sure it’s not the gifts that i give you?” he teases, rounding the table to take a piece of mochi from the plate at its middle. he practically moans at the flavours of cherry blossom and crystallised sugar bursting across the palette of his tongue. and for a moment, his mind slips to other territories — wandering what you’d taste like as well.

“n-no! sugu!” for the first time that night, you break character, bashfully tucking your pretty face into your shoulder as if to hide it. “i, um… i genuinely like seeing you and when you come to see me. i-it makes me feel better. being around you. i feel safer and happier.”

putting his weight onto the metal surface, suguru leans forward and cocks his head to the side in faux curiosity. your answer is just what he wanted to hear. he finally has you where he wants you, like a sweet deer in a hunter’s trap. “is that so, darling?” you shake your head yes in affirmation. “well then, you’re awfully sweet.” geto takes to praising you, licking the traces of candy from his lips and maintaining eye contact while his hand dips into the pocket of his slacks for something. “i have a gift for you, little one.”

“oh yeah?” youtoo, take a bite out of the treats you’ve laid out, munching on them casually while keeping suguru under your watchful eye.

it’s only then that pulls out a matching item of jewellery, this time, a matching anklet to the item that sits heavy at your neck. the silver chain is dotted with tinier, purple gems. a showcase of suguru’s appreciation for how much you’ve healed him — a nod to how much better he feels around you too.

“you sure do love purple for me, sugu.” you joke, laughing incredulously at the expensive gift. “it’s beautiful, thank you.” you let him circle the table to take hold of your soft hips, lifting you onto the cool surface so that geto has some leverage to put the anklet on you.

after kicking out your left foot — suguru sinks to his knees before you, and something about the way he looks up at you, with his eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead and his milky cheeks slightly flushed, has your heart racing and your head all dizzy. “purple is supposed to mean healing. i’ve had a tough time, being away from japan and my family…” he begins quietly, his voice is calming with lilts and drops of hunger that slips through the cracks of suguru’s caring resolve. “but you’ve made it better,” one of his large hands encircles your ankle, lifting your foot higher so that geto is easily able to remove the strap of your mary-jane shoe and replace it with the chains of your new anklet. “ah… a perfect fit.” he announces in japanese, fixing the clasp.

the whole ordeal is intimate, inviting and you feel like you might slip under the surface of dark, dangerous waters if you’re not careful. you don’t know how to swim, but something tells you that suguru will keep you afloat. “anyways, little one…” suguru continues with his monologue, whispering his words against your talus bone at the base of your leg, where it meets your foot. “you wanting me here and needing me… it heals me.”

once he’s checked that the anklet is secure, suguru reaches a hand upwards, and brushes a thumb over the swell of your glossy bottom lip to swipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the mocha. you will yourself to speak, but you feel as though you can’t even breathe. “i’ve…healed you?”

suguru stands up, towering over you now as he moves to suck the sugar from your lips off of his thumb. “of course, little one. what else do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” his pupils dilate, obsidian black drowning out any other colour in his eyes while closes the gap between your heated bodies. your thighs instinctively jump apart to make room for him too, allowing him to loom over you even better — following the biological call of your hearts.

the world comes to a standstill when suguru’s lips finally meet yours in a sloppy yet coordinated kiss. while his movements are messy and hungry he remains gentle with you, as though you might break from too much force. the sweltering heat of his tongue swipes eagerly but not aggressively over the seam of your mouth, dying to be let in and taste the sugar that glazes your own pink muscle. his large, unusually soft hands grasp, and squeeze and pinch at your thighs, then the fat at your hips until his thumbs are tucked under your breasts, soothing circles over the point at which the fleshy mounds join up with your rib cage.

goosebumps break out across your skin from underneath your clothes and you feed suguru a needy little squeak when he finally breaks into your mouth, his tongue lapping circles at every crevice. you sound just like her, his angelic little sister, and he treats you so gently because he would never want to hurt her. suguru has always wanted to kiss his sister, but you’ll have to do. he likes you just as much as her.

it’s that sick and twisted desire to devour his younger sibling that fuels his next movements, along with the dulcet and darling sounds you make for him. carefully and between sticky lip locks, suguru pushes you onto your back — humming in amusement when it arches away from the cool metal of the silver counter. “s-sugu,” you whimper wetly, catching your breath while his smooches cascade down to your neck and his fingers work their way through the buttons on your uniform. your own take residence in his firm and broad set shoulders, as if to steady yourself. “i haven’t… i don’t have much experience with these things a-and they’ve not been the best—“

the dark haired man chuckles softly, the sound sending a spark of lust down your spine and causing you to arch up into him as he cages you against the table. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you firmly, in a tone that smooths over the doubts in your mind and helps you to relax. suguru will take care of everything. “you don’t have to worry. i want this to be all about you feeling good, okay?” you nod in reply and suguru sucks his teeth. “i want a verbal answer, little one.”

“yes, sugu…”

he places a chaste kiss to your collarbones then, a pleased hum vibrating against your temperate skin. “good girl.”

the next few moments are a blur as suguru geto strips you down, kissing every inch of your exposed body with each article of clothing he removes from your shaky frame. all that he leaves you with are your soiled panties after reaching around the curve of your spine to unclip your bra with one hand. it’s all so nerve wracking and invigorating all at once, you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for more.

between the chaos and rustling of his own clothes coming off, suguru presses two digits to your budding clit and your world tilts on its axis — he’s hardly touching you and yet you feel so good, especially when he rolls the swollen little nub between a thumb and forefinger. your nails form crescent moons against his shoulder in response.

you’re so overwhelmed by the patterns he traces over your clit, his name, his promises to you and your body, as well as the blood rushing to it — that you hardly notice geto’s descent on your body, the hot trail of kisses he leaves between the valley of your breasts and over your soft tummy. you just about manage to feel him over the haze in your brain when his lips hit the scalloped edge of your panties, and you jolt when the tip of his tongue forcefully traces the outline of your un-used, soaked hole from over the gusset of said garment.

the fabric darkens as your juices pool against it, mixed with the wetness of suguru’s tongue.

“will you let me pleasure you, little one?”

it’s not like you can say no (not that you want to), especially with the way geto manoeuvres your thighs to hang over the backs of his strong shoulders as he settles between your trembling legs. while he waits for your reply, he takes your wrist into his grasp and pulls one of your silk scrunchies from it — using it to tie back his luscious black hair.

you look down at him through your lashes with a painted expression of want and worry.

suguru pushes the pads of his thumbs into the globes of your ass against the cold table — massaging the flesh with mischievous eyes as your pussy gushes and leaks a fresh wave of nectar right down to the puckered ring between your ass cheeks. “just tying my hair back as a precaution,” he whispers, voice lowering an octave as his face slowly nears your clenching cunt. “i’m a messy eater…”

“a-ah! sugu!”

at first, suguru delivers a single lick to your awaiting pussy, drawing a stripe with his tongue between the length of your fat and sluice folds. then, when you cry out his name he can’t help but to latch his heated mouth onto your unattended sex, chuckling at the realisation of just how good you taste. it’s a natural flavour, with a twinge of sweetness suguru could have only hoped to imagine. he’s been waiting for this moment and to have you like this for weeks — to replace his prior daydreams of fucking his baby sister with you…and now he finally has the material to do so.

a sinful giddiness infiltrates geto’s bloodstream as he kitten licks at your pulsating mound — feeding in your arousal as it grows before inhaling deeply, nastily taking in your scent so that he can commit it to memory. “how does that feel?” he coos his words out as he hungrily nips at your sopping folds, rolling them raw between rows of perfect white teeth until you’re choking on a breath and your face scrunches adorably. “is that nice, love?”

a wet whimper lies on your kiss-swollen lips, and your hips naturally buck up to follow the warm trace of suguru’s mouth encompassing your sex. “f-feels so good! b-better than i… could have imagined,” you struggle to get out, gargling on each syllable while your chest heaves and arches away from the chilly table — giving suguru the perfect view of your bouncing breasts and only motivating him to pleasure you more. “f-fuck!”

if you were his baby sister, suguru isn’t so sure that you’d curse in front of him. she wouldn’t, she was too docile and sweet to utter a bad thing in his presence. but you, you’re both of those things and more — you lose yourself easily to the ecstasy in your veins; liquid pleasure spewing from your blistering hot cunt like a free-flowing river, painting suguru’s high cheekbones with your body’s riches. he feels blessed to be between your thighs, defiling the blossoming flower of your cunt with his eager mouth.

“you’re so…you’re so pretty when you gush like this for me. i want you to give me more.” his tongue darts along the length of your weeping slit, catching what you leak before it can go to waste on the icy table beneath your hot skin. drunk on your taste, suguru forces his flexible tongue past the tightness of your fluttering entrance. “can you do that for me?” he mouths, though whatever he says is slurred as he slowly begins to tongue fuck you.

“a-anything,” you say, breathing shallow and eyes beginning to grow teary. suguru’s tongue slips in and out of your creaming hole with rhythm, preparing you, using a pseudo sensation, for his fat cock. “anything for you! i wanna feel good for you. wanna please you!” he languidly strokes at your ribbed insides as a reward, chasing your honey nectar taste while your hips canter up and chase bud hismouth.

suguru intends to destroy you, own you and unleash all of his darkest fantasies onto you. he’s dreamed of ruining his adoptive little sister, making her cum all over him — it just so happens that you look and sound like her, you match every single one of his dreams about her, you make them all a reality. it’s only right that he pleases you and makes you see stars for needing him and relying on him so well.

he wonders if his sister would cry like you do, or if she would try to stave off her orgasm like you do. would she scream his name over the saliva pooling on her tongue like you do. eyes in the shade of deep, chocolate brown start to flutter shut at the sound of your desperate pleas as you writhe under suguru’s attention of your swollen pussy. your back sticks to the table and your thighs shake either side of suguru’s head, but he doesn’t relent on sucking the juices that cling to your pussy lips until all he can breathe is you.

his tongue twists happily against your lush walls, grasping at the essence that lines them.

“you’re doing well for me, little one, so well…” he praises you, knowing how close you’re getting. it’s in the way your body twitches with every suck to your hardened clit and the way you try to push him off of you. you need it so bad, you need him to make you cum. suguru thrusts deeper, harder and faster using his tongue — catching what dribbles from your tiny hole after it slips between your ass cheeks and pools in a puddle on the table. “i want to taste it. if you’ll cum for me, that’ll make me happy. so let me…”

suguru can’t even finish, dizzy on the taste of you like the buzz of a high. he could spend an infinite number of days between your legs. no matter how sore his knees get from kneeling between them — all he wants to do is slurp down everything that you give him, focus on making you reach pleasure of only heavenly limits in order to evade the guilt he feels. the one that causes knots to twist in geto’s stomach.

how could he do this?

how could he want this?

to fuck someone so reminiscent of his little sister.

to manipulate them into fucking him?

suguru’s name is hot on your lips, spiralling into the husky evening air. “come on, little one. cum for me,” meanwhile, his breath on your cunt makes your hips wiggle and hole spasm — a new wave of juices staining his face. it’s scent and taste coax the man into diving back into your sopping heat, the point of his nose bumping against your pleasure nub as if peeks out from beneath its hood.

“m-mph… m’kay,” comes your hushed whisper as you thread your fingers through the black roots of geto’s hair, keeping him pinned to your precious creamy core as you rut against his agile tongue. “f-feels funny!” you gasp and warble, filling the man’s mouth with your raw folds and liquid lust.

“hm?” geto hums lazily in acknowledgment, licking up to your clit so that he can replace his tongue with two digits. he works at your dripping hole, stretching it over them through the haze in his mind. he swoons at the thought of replacing those same digits with his cock next — they speed up with excitement, squelching and echoing throughout the room, overlapping with your high pitched breathy moans.

with your heart rattling against your ribcage, you can hardly fight off the urge building within your lower belly — your hips are frantic as they chase after the feeling and the burning high that crackles across your neurons. geto groans wickedly, feeling your sex spasm against his soaked lips and clench down hard on his fingers. it’s not long before he feels you succumb to your first orgasm. it washes over him in heavenly waves — clearing away his guilt and desire for his little sister while simultaneously drowning you under sinful pretences.

your entire body is racked with the case of the shakes, your eyes shooting back into the dark depths of your skull while white noise fills your ears and overlays the sound of suguru lewdly slurping at your release. speaking off, clear streams of your arousal spurt from your quivering cunt…and for the first time ever, you squirt. everywhere, all over the place, making such a mess that suguru is left gargling over everything that you give him and there’s a crude splatter as your juices hit the floor.

he doesn’t stop, however, licking you clean with his fingers continuing to curl languidly against your g-spot — over and over again.

“sugu p-please! s’too much,” you plead in the form of a heavy sob — but only god knows that you don’t want the man to stop.

“just one more for me?” he asks you tentatively, releasing your throbbing clit with a wet pop. suguru stands and you look up at him — noting the way his bangs stick to his cheeks from how wet you’ve gotten him. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you either, dragging the tips of them along your overstimulated and stretched walls. “you can do it, and if you can i’ll reward you. how does that sound, little one?” he slows his pace just enough to only have the seat of his palm salaciously grind against your clit, not wanting to hurt you.

he wouldn’t want to hurt his adoptive sister if he ever had the chance to get her spread open like this.

your face is stained with mascara, your brown eyes big and wobbly and your braids are askew — but still, you’re the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, next to her. your fingers threaten to snap shut around his wrist, but with his free hand he forces the wet and doughy flesh back open, and with a few more thrusts if his fingers, nice and tantalisingly slow, you’re cumming again in another cute, clear stream — dowsing suguru’s hand in another wash of your cum.

leaning down, suguru’s lips tainted with your arousal lean down to meet your own — capturing them in a sweet kiss to help bring you back down to earth. “what’s your colour, darling? red for bad, yellow for okay and green for good. how do you feel?”

“g-green,” you mumble, keening into his touch and craving his affection. “i feel fine, my legs won’t stop shaking. i’ve never cum like that before…”

pride blooms like a wildflower in suguru’s chest.

“well, i don’t intend on stopping, little one,” brushing your braids back into place, suguru carefully pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole and swiftly sucks them clean. “your pretty pussy is so tiny, must not have been used properly,” the vulgarity of his words have you arching for more from suguru, and you’re lucky that he’s not done with you yet. “don’t worry, love. i’ll fix that.”

you’re weak in the knees when suguru manhandles you from the table onto the floor, making sure that you’re comfortable on your tummy — he even goes as far to nestle a bag of rice flour under your hips. you pretend not to notice the way his strength makes you flutter around nothing, smearing your juices onto the bakery floor.

“i’ve been holding back quite a bit,” he murmurs against your naked shoulder blades — the dark tresses of his hair tickling your skin. “so i might not last long.” you hear a belt clink before suguru kicks his slacks off and away, rewarding your patience with a kiss against your spine. “i hope it’s okay if i just give you my all.”

from this position, it’s easy for suguru to picture his younger, adopted sister instead of you — he’s dreamed of having her present for him like this countless times, but it doesn’t compare to the way it feels having your hot body underneath him like this. your ass is so soft and pliant in his hands as he drags your hips up a little higher. another hand grasps at the hardness of his cock that’s been dripping and aching ever since geto first got his mouth on you.

with stuttering hips, he positions himself at your needy entrance, chuckling in approval when you attempt to wiggle back on him — just as hungry for this as your lover is. both of you hiss as his veiny shaft comes into contact with your sticky folds, suguru using the remnants of your orgasms to slick himself up again and make it easier for you take all of him. you can’t see him, but the dark haired man’s cheeks are tinged pink with pure desire — his gaze turning woozy as he looks from your gaping hole to his cockhead, tapping it against your souse entrance a few times for good measure.

fuck a condom, he thinks, if given the opportunity — he would have fucked his sister rawtoo.

“whatever you give me, i-it’ll be enough for me, sugu,” you sniff, fisting the floor in anticipation — laying your hot, tear streaked cheek against its cool surface. “t-thank you for treating me so well.”

“i promise,” geto heaves, words a little too rushed and eager. “i’ll make you feel so good, so fucking…h-hah—“ without warning, he thrusts all the way inside of you with his hips driving all the way forward until his pelvis is flush against the curve of your ass. geto is chubbier than you thought he would be, and just the right length — plugging you full. every vein wrapped around his shaft presses up against your most sensitive pleasure spots, and he’s weighty against your gummy unused walls.

suguru’s breath prickles at shell of your ears as he collapses on top of you, all of his weight keeping you pinned to the cold hard floor. “can i move?” he lets out a wavering gasp, fighting the instinct to fuck down into you. your cunt ripples around him deliciously, the heat from your body making him drowsy. “you need to be fucked, little one. need someone to stretch out your tight pussy… i can do that for you. if you let me…”

he hates the part of his brain that wonders if his baby sister was this tight when gojo fucked her.

“i want you to,” you slur gently, purposely squeezing down on the base of suguru’s cock and practically creaming around it. you wriggle back on him until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you — balls deep while you ooze against his pelvis and heavy balls. “need you to fuck me…”

that’s all it takes for your stranger turned lover to give his all to you. he drops his sweaty chest to your back, pulling his chubby cock from the snugness of your heat as his teeth take purchase in your shoulders — leaving a litter of love bites your uniform will barely cover once the night is over. suguru is possessive of his belongings, like you and his little sister — the bites are his claim on you.

in one powerful move, you’re full to the brim with rock hard cock — deep in your guts, churning them up and spreading lust like a wildfire through your weak body. you feel dwarfed underneath him. despite being pinned to the floor, you still manage to rock your hips back against suguru and suck more of him into your cute, quivering cunt. it just about helps him set a steady stream to his meaningful thrusts.

wet slapping sounds echo throughout the back room of the bakery, accompanied by your meek mewls and gasps for air the faster suguru pounds into your warmth. fat droplets of precum smear along your soaked and ripe insides, ready to be bred by suguru. ready to be marked by him. you feel like you belong to him like a treasured pet and you don’t even mind it. your pussy blossoms for him like that of a japanese cherry blossom in the spring time — or iris flowers, shobu, in their iconic shade of purple. like the bruises he’s left on your back.

oh, you’re just perfect for suguru. you fulfil all of his sister-fucking fantasies, even your moans sound like hers when she would get off in her room — thinking no one could hear her. he loves this, he might even love you — the way you feel wrapped around him, reaching for the stars in your eyes. it feels like you’re made for him, with the way you clamp down on his oozing mushroomed tip and squirm about underneath him.

your pussy barely lets go of geto when he draws his hips back, but every time he fucks down into him — your fluttering hole stretches to accommodate his creamy thickness. it creates the perfect pathway for the dark haired man to bully your g-spot in a way that makes you scream for more. “you’re perfect for me…fuck, you’re so perfect,” suguru intimately whispers into your skin from behind, his hands smoothing over yours as you claw at the floor to ground yourself from the overwhelming ecstasy. he thinks he understands why satoru had fucked his sister now — there’s something so satisfying about corrupting someone. taking their innocence with your dick. “should i keep you like this? on my aching cock forever?”

“y-yes please!” you squeal, succumbing to your body’s biological will, cunt spitting droplets of arousal all over suguru. he’s barely able to pull out of you, his dick on lockdown inside of your core. there’s hardly any space between you both any more, the air vibrating with electrifying lust and the scent of sex.

you coo and cry out for your newfound lover, your ass and the backs of your thighs burning from how hard his skin slaps against your own. you hardly care about the pain for its overlapped with ecstasy like sea water on a sandy shore. “you’re such a good…good fucking girl for me. for your big brother,” suguru loses track of his words, his mind lagging behind his mouth and his hips that relentlessly pound you into the ground. over the sound of sex you think that you’ve misheard him, but then his voice rises an octave and in volume as he continues to moan out your praises — succumbing to your gratifying and ichorous cunt latching onto the veins spiralling around his dick. “oh my precious little sister… taking me so fucking well—!”

in that moment, all of the guilt suguru has ever felt for leaving his sister, for ruining her relationship and fleeing to new york, for thinking of her while fucking you… it all comes rushing back. he stops thrusting, freezing in place above you while his cock twitches along your insides.

“f-fuck i—“ he starts to apologise, but the cry you let out stops him.

“nii-san,” you whine petulantly, fat tears gathering in your lash line. “d-don’t stop! please keep fucking me, fuck me harder. make me cum, make me scream, make me—!” your words are cut off by suguru’s fingers wrapping around your delicate neck from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. he resumes his thrusts, a little harsher and more carelessly coordinated than before, once he realises that maybe you’re just as sick and twisted as him. calling him big brother while he uses you for a dirty fuck in place of his younger adopted sibling…

you like this just as much as he does.

suguru knows you’re perfect, perhaps even more so than his little sister. he uses his grip on your throat to tug your head back while he fucks you silly, slotting his mouth against yours in a salacious and sinful kiss. “onii-san, hm?” he forces his tongue over yours, moaning into your mouth pathetically as he reverts back to his mother-tongue. “you want your onii-san to fuck you, imouto? make you cum again?”

“please, please, please onii-san! g-gotta cum f’you…g’na cum. c-close!” comes your brainless babble while you fall into a cockdrunk state.

“you beg so pretty for your big brother, sweet little thing. i should fill you up, breed this greedy little cunt for all its worth, right?” suguru’s mind grows as foggy as yours, copious amounts of his precum pouring into you and dripping down your swollen slit. it’s a mess, everything is disgustingly messy — this situation, the fact that you’re so eagerly calling him your big brother, the fact that he’s fucking you because you remind him of his sibling. but neither of you give a shit, not when you feel so fucking good you swear you’re seeing the pearly gates.

“g-god! please sugu, please nii-san, i need it. need you!” the slow roll of your hips contrasts with geto’s ever increasing slap of skin on skin, your mix of arousals crudely seeping down his balls and to the floor below. the point at which your bodies join starts to forth as well.

“is that so…?” suguru hums attentively, grinning ear to ear at how you play into this immoral dynamic. it fuels the fire of lust burning through him, setting his lungs alight and ruining his chances at breathing. his thrusts become erratic, his cockhead married to your g-spot, and he finds himself growing more and more excited about the sight of his cum leaking from your ravaged hole. “you must really like it when your big brother fucks you — hm, lillith baby? do you like how deep i can get, deep in your tummy?” he continues to ramble, grabbing your ass cheeks to peel them apart — letting out a deep and wild gripe from his chest at the sight of strings of your clear arousal glueing the fleshy globes together. “love how you throw it back on me. keep coating your nii-san’s cock in your pretty juices. gush for me, make me shine with your cum.”

you nod and do as geto says, simpering out for even more while you work yourself back on his swelling girth as it shines with milky white. you can no longer keep up with what’s happening, your brain actually lags at the way your faux big brother coos your name while your sexes sing a lewd song of pap, pap, pap. lust courses through your veins and burns at your nerve endings, you should feel disgusted with yourself but nothing makes sense. you feel like you’re high, and you don’t want to come back down. at this point, all you can do is lay down and take it, clenching around suguru’s hard cock where it counts — pulling more precum from his heavy breeder’s balls.

“nii-san…more, ‘m right there—“ you sob, reaching back with bambi eyes that plead for another kiss. you allow suguru to fuck you at his own free will, too weak to keep up.

“right here, imouto? against this sweet spot, baby sis?” you get a little tighter every time he calls you his little sister, creaming around his base and crying out his name as if it’s a fucking prayer. “you want me to breed you that bad, baby sis? want my cum deep in your little sister cunt?”

you beg for it through tears and suguru makes you cum again just like he promised. your third orgasm of the night renders you completely useless, a silent scream tearing in your throat while you seizes up and trap suguru deep inside of your fluttering cunt. it’s so fucking cute to him, how much you gush when you orgasm, like a rushing river that never stops flowing. it’s almost as if the flood gates have opened up or heaven has rained down on geto’s fat cock.

that’s all he needs for his own orgasm to be triggered, he collapses on top of you from behind as he empties his balls inside of your womb with a shout of your name. “‘m sorry little one, ‘m sorry… so fucking sorry.” he says hoarsely, cock pulsing while a wave of his cream lines your pussy from the inside — he doesn’t ever let up, fucking you through it all until both of your sexes are raw and abused beyond repair. “i love you, baby sis… imouto. s-shit, i love you so much.” your hole burns by the time suguru comes down, and you swear he feels bigger now that his dick is swollen with his orgasm.

suguru is still cumming in spurts when he pulls out of you with a hiss, painting your puffy folds white, the rest leaking out of your entrance. “im so sorry… I have no idea where that came from…” he starts to apologise tiredly. “that was…”

you remain silent for a moment, mulling over what to say next as suguru rolls off of you, and lays by your side quietly. you flip onto your back, staring up at the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. you liked this, whatever the hell it was… even if it meant he was fucking you to fuck his unresolved feelings out for his sister.

“amazing… yeah.” is the response that you settle on.

“that’s…that’s not what i meant.”

“and i know that! you don’t have to apologise,” you cut him off abruptly, keeping your voice softly. “i liked it, whatever weird kink this is, it made me feel good.”

geto flushes hot all over, sheepishly running a hand through his sweaty black locks. “my sister… she’s not seriously my blood sister. she’s adopted and—“ he’s so sheepish and right after ruining you beyond belief that it makes you laugh in pure amusement. “a-and i like you! quite a bit. i know this was… strange… but with your permission. i’d like to keep seeing you.”

“and fucking me?” you tease, tucking yourself into the man’s side while nuzzling your face into his neck. he smells like you, he smells like sex…but you’re satisfied.

his arm loosely wraps around your waist, thumbing over any bruises he might have left there. “that too.”

“what about the gifts?”

“those won’t stop either.”

finally, you sit up, looming over geto as you tuck your braids behind your ear and out of your face. cupping suguru’s jaw, you lean over him and place a somewhat upside down kiss to the man’s lips — then brush over their cherry red bruising. “then you have yourself a deal — now please help me clean up, sugu. i don’t want to get fired.”

it’s his turn to laugh next. “i’ll just take care of all your expenses if you do.”

you roll your eyes.

this new dynamic, this new fling…it’s unhealthy, yeah. but as long as suguru has someone like you to look out for and need him. he thinks he’ll be okay.

getting over his sister was the key to healing. just like his purple nailed therapist had said — so focusing on you was healing him. before either of you can move to help clean up, suguru reaches up slowly and cups your neck tenderly. he brings you down to his level, his fingers wrapping around the silver chain swinging loosely from your neck before pressing a kiss to the amethyst pendant there.

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utopianparadoxist · 29 days ago

Text

On Fighting Nothing - Ultimate Dirk in the Struggle Against The End of Homestuck

[ Edited Excerpt from Through Loving Eyes--Who Is(n't) Dirk Strider?]

You and I have been through this, have been through that, have been at ease. Nothing scares me more than God, and Nothing cannot sustain.

Let's consider this verse from the Homestuck: Beyond Canon album song, The Leaving, as it might relate to the Epilogue's Ultimate Dirk Strider and the nature of his character arc.

It’s a well known fact from the days of Bladekindeyewear (who’s back and occasionally liveblogging HS² on Tumblr, if you’re interested) that The Neverending Story is a major source of thematic inspiration for Homestuck, with the twin ouroboros symbol from the movie appearing in several places in the comic connected to Cherub lore, including their mating rituals, which are said to tap into the innermost essences of Paradox Space.

If you don’t remember the Neverending Story, its a book/movie about the magic realm of Fantastica, an infinite realm of fantasy and wonder living inside an in-fiction book also named the Neverending Story, which is experienced by all who read it. Our protagonist Bastian reads the book, and inside lives a story where the protagonist Atreyu is sent on a quest to try to overcome the threat of the mysterious force called the Nothing, which is bent on consuming the entire fictional world.

The Nothing of the Leaving, then, is a literary reference. What scares Dirk more than God is not “nothing” in the sense that he’s unafraid of God, but instead the specific darkness of non-existence that overtakes the realm of Fantastica, obliterating it completely, reducing it so utterly that there’s not even dust left behind.

And what turns out to be the source of the Nothing in the Neverending Story?

The inevitable apocalypse that comes for all stories: The thump of the cover as you turn the last page. The moment when a living narrative passes from the reader’s experience and turns into an immediately fading memory. Whether it happens quickly or slowly, everyone who’s loved any story eventually moves on.

And that is precisely the armageddon that has struck Earth C at the beginning of the Epilogues. Seven years out from the end of the comic, it is a world almost entirely forgotten, populated by people that we almost don’t even recognize as the characters we loved.

Dirk and his friends struggled through the entire labyrinthine nightmare that is the plot of the webcomic Homestuck to reach their happy ending, and almost as soon as they got there, nearly the entire community of readers that shared the journey with them abandoned them and moved on.

One world burned up in fire (Beta Earth). One world silenced by psychic death scream (Alternia). One world drowned and boiled under water (Alpha Earth). And now? A fourth world, Earth C, doomed to death by simply being forgotten, extinguished in its cradle because it wasn’t loved enough. Gone not with a bang, but with a whisper.

That is the nature of Homestuck’s fourth and (so far) final apocalypse.

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And striving against that fate, watching all of their friends and loved ones succumb to the dark like a beloved horse…we have Rose Lalonde and Dirk Strider. Our platonic (in the literal sense) Adam and Eve at the end of the world. So what else is there for them to do, except to bite the apple?

To Ascend, though it is terrible.

THE LION EATING THE SUN — THE FLAME OF SCORPIO

The only way to fight against Darkness is to Light it with a torch, and the ultimate torch is the Sun. Yaldabaoth, the denizen with the symbol of Light placed upon its head, is also the denizen shared by Caliborn and Dirk. Mythologically, Yaldabaoth is a satanic Demiurge or creator God, analogous to the God of Biblical scripture but either flawed or evil, depending on who’s talking about him.

Caliborn, who goes on to dominate the plot of Homestuck to the point of being responsible for the existence of the Alpha Timeline, and thus the plot of Homestuck itself, is decidedly the evil variety of Demiurge, ruling over the rest of the cast of Homestuck through brutality and death and reveling in every drop of the blood he spills.

And let’s make no mistake: Dirk, already consumed by the process of ascending to Ultimate Self, carries with him the risk of advancing and carrying on Caliborn’s legacy.

Lord English, Doc Scratch, the Soul-infested version of Lil Cal — all three of these entities carry Dirk’s Soul inside them, and so they can potentially count as splinters. And all three excel at manipulating and controlling unaware parties into carrying out their goals, such as Lil Cal corrupting Bro’s training of Dave, or Doc Scratch exploiting and weaponizing Vriska.

In the roiling oceans of Dirk’s ultimate self, how can we really tell who is the puppet and who is the puppeteer? We can’t. But we can tell that so far, Ultimate Dirk doesn’t exactly operate the way Caliborn did. Like the Demiurge in Timaeus’ Testimony, he insists on at least a veneer of nobility, even if he’s flawed or imperfect at it, claiming he’s only doing what needs to be done. And notably, Dirk doesn’t physically hurt a single person throughout the Epilogues.

It’s under this logic that he chooses to take on the role of antagonist, deliberately raising the stakes of his reality high enough to kick the story of Homestuck back into motion. He does this while actively knowing he’s signing up to be executed, preferably by Dave in his opinion, but certainly by someone else otherwise — Kanaya being another likely contender.

Either way, it makes the entire antagonistic enterprise one long suicide attempt on his part. Dirk may not have given up on Homestuck’s future, but in deciding to be willing to fight for it, he has given up on his own life.

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It is, in essence if not intentionally, the bargain of the Flame Of Scorpio.

“The Scorpion killed other bugs and ate them. Then one day, the weasel found him. The scorpion fled, and fell into a deep well. He thought to himself: ‘How long have I eaten other creatures? And yet, the one time that I was the prey, I fled in utter terror. And look what came of that. I’ll die in this well, alone. I could have given the weasel another day of life with my sacrifice. But now my death will help no one. I’m useless. Dear Lord, I beg of you, look into my Heart and hear my prayer. In my next life, don’t let me waste myself. Let me use my body for the true happiness of everyone in the world. And then the scorpion burst into flame. A brilliant crimson glow. And by the light of his burning body, he lit up the night forever.’

— Night on the Galactic Railroad

It’s a covenant with God, a kind of magic whereby a scorpion — an entity that hurts and consumes by its nature, a Natural Antagonist, if you will — sacrifices itself to light up the night sky. A sacrifice that is depicted in 2011’s Mawaru Penguindrum’s homage to Night on the Galactic Railroad beautifully succintly with the act of…

Tearing one's heart out.

You sent me FIRE. FIRE, I’ll tear my throat out. Burn my blackened lips. You gave me FIRE!

Fire, I’ll tear my Heart out. I’d rather tear my Heart out... But I can’t stay here! --The Leaving, Homestuck Beyond Canon

If this seems familiar conceptually, it might be because it's a very similar logic to the one adopted by Vriska Serket in the original Homestuck comic, who adamantly believed that since she’s taken so many lives, she can only justify her existence by Rising Up and defeating Lord English for the benefit of everyone in Homestuck.

Vriska throws herself into the role of Hero/Protagonist, while Dirk throws himself into the role of Villain/Antagonist, but they do so with the same kind of fanatic quasi-religious zeal: That by embracing their own sharper features and committing to sacrificing for the greater good, they can make things better for everybody else.

And so Dirk commits his biggest and most obvious gesture of antagonism: He kidnaps Rose Lalonde, taking her with him on his journey to start a new session. In the process he moves her soul into a (frankly sickass) robot that he claims can withstand the infinite processing power necessary to hold her Ultimate Self, which her physical body can’t sustain.

While whether or not that’s true remains to be seen, this move has been deemed highly unpopular by the fandom, to say the least. Yet there’s a logic to why he had to do it. If Dirk had said fuck it, taken his ball and fucked off the planet on his own, what would’ve happened?

His friends and the fandom would’ve collectively gone “Weird move, but go off I guess?” and collectively moved on without a second thought. Dirk simply doesn’t carry the emotional weight to carry an entire narrative with the question of whether or not he gets a happy ending. He just has the sort of personality that inclines us to go “Probably not, but oh well. Sort of the dude’s own fault anyway.”

But Rose? Everybody loves Rose. Everybody fucking loves Rosemary! There’s nothing the Homestuck fandom wants more in the world than for those two girls to be happy together. If Rose isn’t okay, we’re not okay, and that’s exactly what Dirk needs: Something to be so wrong in the world that we can’t help but keep watching, in the hopes that eventually, someday, it will be set right again.

Rose is the very Sun Dirk has stolen in the process of making a Narrator-Demiurge of himself. She is the guiding Star that leads to the future, the very Light of Homestuck.

And look, Dirk gets a lot of flack for the whole Rose-snatching thing, but let’s put something into perspective here. In the epilogues, Rose is dying, or suffering so much she may as well be dying. Dirk may or may not be exploiting or undermining Rose’s agency, but his Rosebot innovation for her does end her immediate excruciating pain.

Ultimately, Rosebot agrees with Dirk about taking this course of action, deliberately thanking him for taking her with him and expressing her own feelings on the importance of their cause before Dirk succumbs to his temptation to eke out a hollow victory over his loneliness by using his narrative powers to encourage her eagerness.

While there are secrets being kept and the power dynamic is unbalanced, Dirk and Rose are not abuser and victim in this venture — they are co-conspirators. Remember that Rose, too, has a role to play.

If Dirk is the dragon, the damnable villain, then she is the princess in the tower, the damsel in distress. It’s in both of their mutual interests for her to play to an attitude of relative innocence and ignorance for the audience’s benefit.

The better to keep us watching.

#homestuck #dirk strider #rose lalonde #Homestuck: Beyond Canon #Homestuck^2 #The Homestuck Epilogues #Vriska Serket

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carminecherry · 2 months ago

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THE SUMMER HEAT, THE COOL CAFE | mikey sano

this is part one of the series kill the lights

⇝ PAIRING: timeskip!biker!mikey sano x fem!reader

⇝ SERIES SYNOPSIS: after moving by yourself to tokyo, you black out at a party and wake up with a new friend. as she sweeps you up in her fast-paced city life, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper for her mysterious brother. but something dark is brewing in the city. as his past threatens to resurface, mikey must fight not only physical enemies but the mental battle of his feelings for you. he can't resist you , but could he ever forgive himself if something happened to you? he'll love you selfishly and protect you savagely.

⇝ PART ONE LENGTH: 2.8k words

⇝ PART ONE WARNINGS: N/A (18+ minors do not interact):

all characters are 20+; Alternate Universe! Canon Divergent. you go out for coffee with emma after meeting at a mutual friend's house party. a friendship blossoms, but you can't seem to get a certain biker out of your head.

⇝ AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have been haunted by this mikey fic for almost a year! I hope you all can enjoy the drama and popcorn fiction of the world of the mikey-verse. we'll keep it fun and flirty and I PROMISE the build up will be worth it ;) it starts off slow, but there is gratuitous smut later in the series. keep an eye on the tags and stay safe! <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.

The city has become a concrete jungle. The summer sun roasting the land beneath it. Lavishing in its task; making the hours creep by ever so slowly. Even after the sun goes down, the heat sets into the earth like a deep rot.

You step out of your apartment, the distant star glaring down. The buzzing of the cicadas makes the heavy, humid air vibrate in an unpleasant way. You always hated summer and summers in Tokyo were a special hell. The way your clothes would cling to your sweaty body. How the muggy, wet air thickened your breath. And that's all before you consider the insects.

One of the few blessings of living in the city was that there weren’t as many bugs here as in your childhood home. However, you didn’t have a parent here to kill or catch the scary ones that would occasionally make their way into your apartment and you didn’t have the heart or stomach to deal with them.

A particularly ferocious looking cockroach had been in your sanctuary last night, which meant you had spent the better part of an hour making a very convincing argument for it to walk out of the balcony door. All the while, praying nothing else would fly in. Cursing and mentally tallying the money pouring out into the hot summer night as your AC ran at full blast. Fall couldn’t come soon enough.

Today was particularly blistering. Your phone already growing hot in the short distance to the train station. If you hadn’t made plans in a better, more social mood, you could still be curled up under your AC. You cursed the gregarious version of yourself from the other night. The crowded train swaying, other passengers bumping into you with each motion. But It was too early in the friendship to flake now.

You had met her through a mutual friend at a house party. You were still relatively new to the city and didn’t have a community yet. Blessedly, it turns out you had a good friend from university living close by. Earlier in the week, out of the blue, he had reached out. The two of you had studied hard and partied harder as undergraduates. While he seemed to be making something of his fashion design degree, if his immaculately curated luxury loft were any indicator of success, you were busting your ass to make ends meet.

Your job at the small combination cafe and bookshop was aesthetic and cozy but ultimately a placeholder until you found a job in your industry. Maybe you should’ve done Fashion Design after all.

You wanted to catch up with him the other night, maybe even do some networking at his house party, but you had barely been able to get two sentences in before he was called off to talk to other party-goers. This had left you in your worst, admittedly nicely decorated, nightmare.

This solitude and anxiety had led to you sipping awkwardly from one too many drinks. But the alcohol had eased your nerves enough for you to talk to another girl at the party. Regrettably, much of your conversion had been lost to the liquor, but meeting for coffee today had been nailed down before you lost too much of your sense.

You winced in embarrassment, rubbing away the ghost of your hangover from the other night. You hope you hadn’t made a fool of yourself, and if you had, you hope that she doesn’t remember it either.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a notification. Emma, the girl from the party’s name flashes on your phone screen. You tapped it quickly and read,

“I’m so sorry, my ride fell through but I got another one. I’m running a little late but I’m on my way!”

Thank god. Your heart had dropped seeing the preview of the message, thinking she was about to cancel. You quickly type back,

“No sweat! I’ll see if I can snag us any of the good seats ;)”

You don’t imagine it’ll be too busy since it’s that golden window after breakfast and before lunch, but the “good seats” are always the first to go. The thought of having to sit out on the balcony in this weather makes you cringe. The train lurches to a halt and you get your elbows up, worming your way out of the crowded car. The joys of Tokyo living.

You idly make your way to your destination, wishing there was some sort of breeze to ease the waves of hot air rising from the concrete. The streets are dotted with only a handful of other people; everyone else must be smart enough to stay inside today. There are a few cars on the road, the way the wind shifts around them as they zip past throws off an uncomfortable, hot gust.

You turned the corner to cut back to some of the side streets, there were usually less cars there; more pedestrian friendly. You’d usually opt for a cozier, more hole-in-the-wall type of cafe like the one you worked at, but Emma had insisted that she wanted to try the new seasonal drink at this place.

This location was often not as busy as you would expect from one of the most popular coffee joints in Tokyo. Well, the world. But ever since tourists started coming back to Japan, it was becoming more difficult to anticipate the crowds. You rounded the corner and neared the big wooden doors.

The cicadas were noisy as hell, even here. You noticed there was something masked by the buzzing. A revving? The sound rapidly approached and in moments was bearing down on you. You jumped back, securely on the sidewalk as a motorcycle screeched to a halt. The sudden appearance of the two riders on its back catching nearby eyes.

The driver of the bike was dressed head to toe in black, matching his sleek black bike. You could practically see the heat waves rolling off of the leather biker jacket that stretched across a broad back and tightened over what were sure to be muscular shoulders.

You questioned how and why anyone could wear that getup in this weather. The smaller figure on the back was more sensibly dressed in light, loose clothes, the outfit accentuating their feminine features. She tugged off her helmet, golden locks tumbled free of their confines.

“Jesus! It’s too hot to be wearing a damn helmet, Mikey! I think it messed up my hair” she whined, shoving the helmet into the hands of the figure named Mikey. She tossed her hair a few times in an attempt to fluff some life back into what was matted by the helmet. She was stunning regardless. He made no move to take off his headwear, the visor an impenetrable black, betraying no feature of the face beneath.

“That’s a long way to say thank you.” He returned dully. She gave him a shove as she hopped off the bike. Turning on her heel she offered, “Thank you.” The words dripped in sarcasm. He nodded, seemingly satisfied despite the tone. Emma turned again, eyes finally locking on you. They’re a pretty honey color slightly darker than her hair.

“EEE! Oh my god! It’s so good to see you!” She squeals, rushing over to hug you. The sudden physical affection catches you off guard. You hope she doesn’t feel how sweaty you are. “Hey~ I thought you were going to be late?!” You respond, giving a gentle squeeze back before slipping from her grip. You continue with a smile, “It’s great to see you too. Thanks for meeting up with me today.”

She smiles back. She has a pretty smile that crinkles her nose and shows off her straight, white teeth. She’s as beautiful as you recalled from the party, despite your memory being hazy. As you admire the features of the woman in front of you, you feel a prickling on the back of your neck. That feeling when you know someone is watching you and you feel the world zoom in on the space around you.

Your eyes dart up and land on the figure still seated on the bike. His stance unnaturally still. Despite the visor still blocking your view, you knew those were the eyes boring into you. You smiled awkwardly and offered a small wave to the figure sizing you up. He made no move to respond. Emma registered the situation and turned back to face Mikey. “You can go now.” In a tone so icy you almost forgot you were in the armpit of summer.

“I’m gonna have Draken pick me up so don’t worry about hanging around.” With that she waved him off dismissively. There was a beat before her words registered and the biker’s head snapped forward, nodding sharply before revving his engine. You felt the reverberation in your bones. Then, in a bolt of jet black, he was gone. Your eyes lingered in the space where he’d been.

“Sorry about him. He’s not good with new people.” Emma says, shaking her head and holding the door open. You step into the massive cafe, the cold air a welcome embrace. “It’s all good. Was he at the party the other night too?” You ask, eyes surveying the crowded room for an open table. “Nah, he had to work late. He’s also not much of a party person, believe it or not.” She says, lacing the end of her statement with sarcasm. “What?! No way!” You feign surprise. She shoulder bumps you playfully as the two of you make your way up to the second floor. You like her already.

Your mind replays their interactions from before and the dynamic wasn’t giving that of a romantic relationship. “So, how do you know him?” You ask, your eyes turning to the pretty blonde. “Oh! He’s my brother, Mikey!” She said with a hearty laugh. “Sorry! I should've introduced you!” She apologizes. “It’s all good! He seemed like he had somewhere to be.” Your offer. She rolled her eyes, “He’s always rushing off somewhere, I’m surprised I was able to catch him today to give me a ride.” You look around the second floor for an open table to no avail. You say a prayer to a certain green mermaid that there will be seats on the third floor.

“That’s brutal though. Working late on a Friday night and having to rush around on a Sunday.” Your homebody shudders at the thought of working on the weekends. “Yeah, well he’s too much of a busybody to sit around doing nothing. I don’t think he’s been relaxed since we were kids.” Her gaze drifts and you get the sense that conversation has reached its end.

“Anyways, the party was a lot of fun! How do you know Yuuki?” you ask, changing the subject. “Oh, he’s actually friends with my boyfriend Draken and, I guess, acquaintances with Mikey.” The word acquaintances seemed to be doing some heavy lifting and the nosy side of you wanted to know more, but you locked onto the juicier topic.“Oh~ Boyfriend.” You tease. Of course a girl as pretty as Emma would be taken. “Does he have any single friends? Any cute ones? Could he hook me up?” You continue.

She laughs, “Not many I think he would vouch for, but I can let him know there is an interested party.” Score! In more ways than one, there is an open window seat calling your name on the third floor. You set your bags down to claim the space. You sink into the plush seats to test them out, heavenly. She returns your question, “How about you, how do you know Yuuki?”

“We were friends in university, we had some classes together. Actually, I was surprised to hear from him when I moved to the city. You know, we haven’t really talked since graduation. I don’t even know how he knew I moved here to be honest...” You say with a dry laugh.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t questioned when his message slid into your DMs. Welcoming you to Tokyo and inviting you to his house party. Truthfully, you thought he might’ve been shooting his shot. He’s cute and the two of you had a little will-they-won't-they that never played out in university. But his complete dismissal of you at the party had been signal enough.

“Either way, he used to throw ragers at his place back on campus and it seems like he’s perfected the craft here.” As you continue, Emma’s eyes drift out the large floor to ceiling windows and a scowl flashes across her face, too quick for you to notice. She whips her phone out under the low table and skillful fingers fly across the screen, stabbing out a message that is delivered before you end your sentence. If you listened closely, the sound of a bike might’ve been heard over the ambience of the crowded cafe.

You’re pulled out of your reverie by Emma, clapping her hands as she stands from her seat, sparkles in her eyes. “If you’re looking for a good party you found the right girl. I’m actually working as a promoter right now. If you ever want to go out, shoot me a message. I’ll put your name on the list!” A wide smile stretching across her face. “Only if you promise you’ll be there with me.” You counter, flashing your best puppy dog eyes. “It’s a deal.” She winks, “Let’s get our coffee before the line gets any longer.” You rise from your seat, the promise of caffeine is an attractive one and the two of you make your way to the counter.

***

Coffee had been perfect. What nerves you had about meeting Emma had melted in her warm aura. She was walking sunshine. The afternoon had been filled with laughs and knee slaps, It had felt like home. Before you knew it, the day had gotten away from you. With a promise of coffee next Sunday, the two of you made your exits.

Another biker pulled up in front of the cafe. His build is slightly taller than Mikey’s. His bike was cool and looked more retro from what limited knowledge you had. Emma practically glowed as she skipped to the man. Wrapping her arms around him. He pulled off his helmet as he steadied his bike, balancing the woman embracing him.

His features are severe and strikingly handsome. He has a muscular and imposing build. His bleached hair is cut into a kind of shaggy mohawk. The hair on the top of his head is longer and braided while the sides are shaved to the scalp. You notice he has a large tattoo that curls behind his ear and goes down his neck. Between his physique, the bike, the ink, he might’ve looked scary if he didn’t look like he was about to melt. His eyes were soft and locked on the woman in his arms. What you wouldn’t give to have someone look at you like that. Especially if it was a guy who looked like him.

You exchanged a brief introduction and he gave you a firm handshake, his expression unreadable when facing you. You said your goodbyes and watched as the two of them rode off. You had a nostalgic feeling lingering in your chest. Happiness from the day mixed with something else. Is it loneliness? You couldn’t quite place it as you made your way back to your apartment, the heat getting the better of you. The cicadas were beginning their nightly choir as you neared your door. You had noticed many things that day that played in a loop in your mind.

The way Emma’s hair shimmered like gold when it caught the sunlight, the way the thrum of people in the cafe had made the top of your drink shimmer with vibration, the new spider web woven into the nook between the station sign and the wall near your exit, even now how the sky was streaked with magenta and tangerine hues as the sun dipped below the horizon.

You’d always find yourself drawn to bright, shiny things. Not daring a glance to the shadows that creep along the periferie. What you can’t see can hurt you. That's a hard lesson. One you were bound to learn sooner or later. It was too late to change the trajectory as your door closed securely behind you. Everything was already in motion and, without realizing it, you’d been tugged into the current. Nothing would’ve changed, but if you had turned and glanced at the shadows, you might’ve seen the black silhouette of a biker in stark contrast to the vibrant summer world.

#mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro x you #mikey x reader #Mikey Sano #Mikey Sano smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tr smut #tr x you #carminecherry fics

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avocado-writing · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Today is my birthday (well, in one hour it will be) and I was wondering if you could write a story with Crowley and Aziraphale with reader perhaps set in the tltdatsib series/world where it’s like the past sometime (whenever you’d like) and maybe Aziraphale (or Crowley) gets jealous that reader is paying more attention to the other and angst to fluff perhaps with makeup sex? Thank you! New to the fandom and love your work!

notes: I’m certain it was your birthday like two months ago by this point but uhhhhh enjoy!

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley (tltdatsib-verse)

rating: E

Crowley is jealous.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at conveying it: huffing, sitting down heavily, crossing his arms (though definitely not pouting) but you and Aziraphale haven’t picked up on it.

For the amount of time you’ve been together, sometimes it does end up that two of you will spend more time together than all three. He’s had countless times when he’s headed off with Aziraphale around the world for work reasons, and he can firmly remember some stints in the seventies when the two of you hit the road to follow your favourite bands on tour.

Still, though. He doesn’t like it when it happens to him.

You and Aziraphale have been going to night time classes. He’s not quite sure what classes, neither of you have let that slip, but what it has meant is that you and the angel have been around each other incessantly. Together. He feels a bit elbowed out of it all, like the two of you have some little secret to giggle over.

Crowley swirls his wine in his glass and mopes a bit before swallowing it down, harrumphing quietly to himself as he hears the two of you open the door to the shop and walk in laughing. Probably at some private joke that he won’t be privy to.

“And I was just— oh, hello, Crowley. Why are you sitting in the dark, my love?”

He looks over to you and notices for the first time that he’s not bothered to put the lights on. He flinches as Aziraphale hits the light switch and the bookshop is bathed in a warm glow. The two of you carry on as if nothing is amiss; Aziraphale puts the kettle on, you hang up the coats.

“Have you just been there since we left?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice. Crowley takes another quaff.

“Maybe. Not sure why you’d care.”

He sniffs loudly and out of the corner of his eye he can see your confusion.

“Love, what’s the matter?” you ask, crossing your arms, fully in no-nonsense mode. Aziraphale pokes his head out of the kitchen.

“Is something happening?”

You gesture for him to follow you. The kettle sings and turns off, ignored, and the two of you plonk down on the sofa either side of Crowley.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, gently but firmly, laying your hand on his knee.

“Well, maybe you’d know if you weren’t constantly disappearing off to your evening classes without me…” he knows he sounds petulant but honestly he sort of doesn’t care. He enjoys being petulant sometimes.

“Oh, Crowley,” you say softly, “we didn’t think you’d want to come, my darling.”

“I don’t want to come!” he snips, then deflates a little, putting down his wine, “But I would have done it if you asked.”

You and Aziraphale exchange a look. Ah. There it is. You’ve been around long enough to know that misunderstandings happen when communication doesnt. Either side of Crowley, you both take one of his hands.

“Crowley, dear. We weren’t excluding you to be unkind. We just didn’t want you to come because… well…”

“Look. We’ve been going to swing dance classes. And we’re really bad at it,” you finish. Aziraphale shrugs and nods. Crowley furrows his brow.

“What?”

“We’re so utterly pants. We can’t swing dance to save our lives and we’ve been going for weeks now.”

“We’re getting better!” Aziraphale says, “We don’t stand on each other’s feet half as much any more. But truth be told we are the worst in the class by a large margin - and we don’t want you to watch us dance until we’re worth watching.”

“It’s pretty humiliating. We were hoping one day we’d be able to show you properly. We wanted you to be impressed.”

Oh god. Crowley feels awful. The two of you weren’t trying to exclude him, you just wanted to be good enough to show off. He groans and buries his face in his hands.

“I’m an idiot,” he sighs.

“Well…”

He shoots you a withering look, but ends up smiling.

“My dear, you have to tell us if something is bothering you. Neither of us would want that,” Aziraphale says.

“If you’re feeling neglected you just need to say, and I’m sure we can make it up to you…”

This is all the incentive Crowley needs to allow the two of you to begin to touch him.

You kiss him first, long and slow, before freeing his lips for Aziraphale. Crowley loves the slick slide of his husband’s tongue along his, the way the angel’s warm hand skims the plateau of skin revealed as his shirt is lifted up. You work your way down Crowley’s body and end up on your knees between his legs, your hands making light work of his jeans.

“Ahh, there we are,” you sigh, finding him half-hard and stroking him to his full length. You take a moment to inhale the musky scent of him before you touch your tongue to the tip of his cock, and he bucks as if you’ve run a thousand volts through him.

“Shit—!”

“Language,” Aziraphale mutters against his lips. The demon’s shirt is hitched higher, Aziraphale begins to run his thumb in a circle around the peak of his nipple.

“Such a lovely boy,” you hum as you press kisses down the length of his shaft. Crowley doesn’t identify as male necessarily, but he does enjoy hearing you call him a ‘lovely boy’. It makes him feel small and safe, adored.

He relaxes into the couch and lets you both take care of him. By the end of the evening, and several orgasms later, he can tell you’re both very sorry for making him feel ignored. But if this is the way you make it up to him, maybe he doesn’t mind too much…

tags: @angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound@a-mediocore-writer@darktealrat @chaospossum @belilwen @rex-ray @hunterispunk

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #Request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

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thefiery-phoenix · 8 months ago

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YANDERE MANAGER KIM HEADCANONS

Words cannot do justice how much I simp for this man, please why are the Lookism verse characters so good looking😭

With the sort of nonsense he's had to endure during his lifetime battling yakuza bosses and gangsters and unruly teenagers with the ego complex larger than Zeus himself, he has a pretty good reason to be protective and possessive and obsessive of you. The man here just wants to keep you safe at all costs no matter what and will do anything to ensure your safety, even if it means getting his hands dirty, for the sake of you to be happy. He just genuinely loves you. A lot to the extent that he's willing to murder people over it

He might have a stoic and aloof exterior and personality at times but he's a soft man at heart. He's someone who understands the passion of romance and he'll feel the flame of love igniting deep within his soul whenever he thinks of you. After all he's the one who's convinced Warren to love someone even if it's only temporary because in his opinion, a man truly becomes a beast and most powerful when he has a loved one to protect. This ex soldier here was quite lonely for a while without having a partner. He didn't really want to have a partner with raising his daughter Minji and him being worried about how she'd adapt to the new changes. However when Minji suggested he find himself a partner he was stunned to hear that from his daughter and decides to give it a shot anyway

A few days later he bumps into you, you work at the local bakery downtown and the second he steps inside your bakery, he's surrounded with warmth and the heavenly scent of baked goods lingering in the atmosphere as a soft smile forms on his face when his eyes land on you. You were busy baking some muffins and you had a pretty apron around your waist as you spotted him and waved towards him. When you smiled at him politely and greeted him and noted down his order, which was a red velvet cake with 2 blue berry muffins and 2 chocolate chip cookies, you mentioned that it might take a while to make. He didn't mind waiting honestly, it would give him an excuse to be in your bakery more and admire you. He struck up a light conversation with you and found growing attached to you rather quickly. However he did get slightly concerned when you told him that you lived alone, why would you live alone? There are so many dangerous things happening around the area in the country and you're living alone? That's something he's not too thrilled to hear about

You hand him his order in a box as your soft warm fingers brushes against his rough large calloused ones and he feels something warm creeping up inside him. A fuzzy warm feeling, a familiar spark and jolt of electricity and passion that he thought he might never get to feel before. His heart twinged slightly as he bade you a goodbye and sighed as he walked out of your bakery. However he started heading over to your bakery everyday, sometimes just to make conversation with you since he does find your company and presence rather pleasant. He doesn't want to burden you with the stories of his past from when he was Code 66 back during his military days nor does he want to tell you that he works at the white tiger job center for a certain fighting obsessed lunatic since he doesn't want to scare you off. He wants to protect you and shelter you from the bad things that keep happening. He can see the glimmer of innocence in your eyes, something that's quite rare these days since most people he's encountered were just plain egoistic corrupt people. But you're so different...a ray of sunshine in a dark world filled with chaos and entropy

He's an ex soldier with God tier fighting and detective skills. He'll ask Hansu to find out some information regarding you, ignoring the teasing from Jincheol about how he's fallen head over heels in love with you already. He just sighs and pointedly looks at him but he doesn't deny it. Hansu will end up finding everything about you in less than an hour and he'll have pages and pages of your biodata for Kim to take a look at. Kim knows he's being a bit out of line here but he just can't help but be curious. If you're in any kind of trouble or whatever he'll take care of the problem quickly. If someone's harassing after you or you have a creepy landlord, well good news for you because you don't need to pay your rent next month. Just ignore the broken bones and the bruises on the landlord given to him by a certain man who comes over to your bakery everyday

Have you seen this man fight? His kill ratio is insane, there's a reason people shiver when they're facing him against a fight. He might be soft and affectionate and warm towards you but when it comes to dealing with people to protect you, he'll be absolutely ruthless and will give zero damns who he's up against. He'll use his string and his fighting skills and put that person in the hospital for a while. Or just straight up murder them, depends on the sort of crime they do to you. Either way he will not relax or let it go if someone messes with you and harms even a single strand of hair on your pretty little head. When he goes on a murder rampage, not even Hansu and Jincheol would be able to stop him which is why they just let him do his own thing. Oh, and speaking of Hansu and Jincheol, congratulations, you now have them both looking out for you as well

His obsessive and possessive feelings for you would start when he feels like you're in danger from something. He'll invite you to stay over at his house for a few days and you can't even refuse him because the way he speaks will make you doubt yourself whether or not you're truly able to take care of yourself. You don't get a choice in this matter, you're staying with him and that's final. It's also a good time to introduce you to Minji. However little did you know, both father and daughter were obsessed with you. Minji greets you with a polite smile and she's finally glad she got to meet the person who's made her dad happy. She's another one who's willing to do whatever the hell it takes to ensure you'll stay with her dad. She's a sneaky one, if your coworkers are messaging you things she's not too pleased about, she'll sneakily delete their number from your phone and make it seem like you blocked them on social media. You're supposed to be with her dad, not some other undeserving person

Breakfast, lunch and dinner include you sitting with them and having your meal. Of course, no phone during that special time. Kim would love to do the cooking, he'll cook the best meals ever to ensure you have a good meal. He does get slightly tempted to embrace you from the back at times and kiss the nape of your neck softly while you're busy doing the dishes while Minji is secretly smirking to herself about how things are going well and how you're a part of their family now

If you try to go back to work, Kim might be a bit disgruntled at first but he'll allow you to do so to not seem controlling. However he'll fill your head with things like how you don't need to earn when he's there to take care of you and you could take a break for a while and such. He just wants to take care of you and shower you with his love. Minji would side with her dad too. They both are possessive over you, they know they're being possessive but they're overlooking it. It's for your safety after all. If you try leaving them, Minji would be hurt and upset and Kim would be hurt and devastated too. But he'd be determined to bring you back and it wouldn't take him long for him to find you. He'll just carry you in his arms and you can throw all the tantrums you want but he's not going to budge while he's taking you back home with him where you belong. He won't yell at you or raise his voice at you, he doesn't believe in hurting the ones he loves. But he'll gently chide you like a stern parent telling off a naughty child for their bad behavior. The next day the locks of the house will be changed and there'll be bars on the windows to prevent you from leaving

He's not completely heartless to prevent you from going outside either. He knows and understands you feel trapped which is why you'll still be allowed to go out. Provided it's with him or Minji. No more going out on your own, not even to the grocery store that's ten minutes away from the house either. However when it comes to someone taking you away from him...I want to say I hope they might be safe but who am I kidding at this point. He'll literally obliterate them from his path. How dare they mess with you, they'll literally pay with their lives. Or bones. He can't bear to see you cry, it hurts his heart. Minji and Kim would be on either side of you hugging you while you cry as Kim will gently brush away your tears and lovingly caress your cheek. You're his and he'd do anything to make sure it stays that way...

#yandere manager kim oneshots #yandere manager kim x reader webtoon #yandere manager kim x reader #yandere manager kim #yandere manager kim headcanons #yandere manager kim scenarios #yandere manager kim imagines #yandere manager kim x reader x platonic yandere minji #lookismverse

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dracui · 11 months ago

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" Like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker. " ( But darkness was here yesterday. ) There is no reprieve for his desire ( torturous, saccharine, primordial ), yet he stands dormant, bound to a mirage. And when she looks, she will look upon a man, snared by the wonders surrounding them. And no more than that.

( When the time is right... )

The arachnid display she chose to examine is expertly framed and polished; a rather vital presentation. But for only a moment, Dr Sweet struggles to look away from the book in her hands, churned up by an unseen memory. Pulled back by the talons of the doctor's past.

( Only then. )

Before settling near her chosen predator, a smile curling up his mustache, hands behind his back. " Perhaps one should envy his new-found permanence. " He offers and points to the albino scorpion, nestled with the rest of his pack. Even in death, the whistlings of hunger are unavoidable on his small carcass. " Then again, we have yet to determine their lifespans, paedomorphs. Maybe — if given a chance — he would've outlived us all. "

" In fact, he comes from the Sudan. Leiurus quinquestriatus, or, more colloquially, the Deathstalker. What we do know is that they're nocturnal creatures, and rather dangerous — the smaller, the deadlier. Would you like to touch one? "

“It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.” She had read and then re-read the sentence over and over again, long pale fingers gently caressing the spine of the book. It was a new read, a popular one from what she was told, and she too had found herself transfixed with the author's way of dissecting the innermost intimate workings of the main character. But she had promised, herself, to abandon her own thoughts for fear of where they would lead.

So she had finally left the house, the comfort that it afforded her, and found herself near the museum. The weather was warm and humid outside as she stayed some time on one of the benches, reading and then idly watching the people pass by. But the heat grew and the sun became relentlessly stubborn as she picked up her bag and ventured inside. The walls were high and the rooms seemed endless, there was hardly anyone around, so there didn’t seem any need to rush as she observed the different things on display.

It had been a harrowing few months, and this had been the first mundane day that she could remember. Something that she often could not afford, or thought she did not deserve. To live and enjoy that existence, it was not always easy. Sir Malcolm was also gone, on an expedition that he had planned for years, and alone, she had nowhere else to turn inward. But being with herself alone day in and day out, was enough to force her outside, to experience something, anything. In hopes of some kind of reprieve.

@dracui liked this for a starter. <3

#luminescenc1e #luminescenc1e01.#AND THEN ALL LIGHT WILL END AND THE WORLD WILL LIVE IN DARKNESS. / VERSE.

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unityrain24 · 1 year ago

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ok people here's my essay. (also note that this was for my english class so it is written in a different style than i usually would. it had to be all formal and grammatically correct and such)

2212 words, analytical essay

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power: A Queer Allegory for Religious Trauma

ND Stevenson’s She-Ra and The Princesses of Power is an animated Netflix original series rebooting the classic 80s show Shera: Princess of Power. This time, however, the show is chalk-full of diversity, varied body types, queer representation, pleasing colour palettes, and a friends-to-enemies-to-lovers lesbian romance. The first four seasons follow Adora (aka She-Ra) and the princesses of Etheria’s fight against the Evil Horde, using their magic to try bringing peace and justice to the planet. A portal is opened at the end of the fourth season, however, bringing the planet of Etheria out of the isolated dimension of Despondos. No longer separated from the rest of the universe, Horde Prime arrives at Etheria- not only bringing higher stakes than any season preceding it, but an entirely new layer of symbolism to the series. The final season was a clear allegory for religious trauma, an especially relevant topic for the show’s majorly queer audience.

When his armada arrives at Etheria, Horde Prime sends his army of clones and robots down to take the planet by force. Unlike the Evil Horde that had been trying to take the planet before Prime’s arrival, who were disorganized, messy, and industrial, everything under Prime is sleek, elegant, efficient, and most importantly: white. Horde Prime’s ships are white, Horde Prime’s robots are white. Horde Prime’s skin is white, his hair is white, his clothes are white, as are all his clones. Pure, unblemished white, with only sparing accents of grey or green.

In colour theory, white has a few meanings. The colour can represent purity, cleanliness, innocence, and even righteousness. This colour theory is heavily incorporated into biblical verses, metaphors, and artwork (and some might even argue that our modern idea of white comes from the Bible). In art, God and angels are almost always depicted wearing white, as is Jesus in his resurrection. Halos of white or light yellow are shown adorning holy figures' heads. Several bible verses use white robes or other white objects as a metaphor of the wearer’s purity. White is still used in several Christian rituals/customs today, such as weddings, baptisms, and more. White is one of (if not the) most important colour in Christian lore. Even in instances where pure white isn’t used, there is a clear correlation between light versus dark and good versus evil.

White has more than one meaning, however- on the opposite side of the coin, white can also represent coldness, blankness, emptiness, and loneliness. The most interesting thing about the show’s use of white is that it encapsulates both facets of its representation. Horde Prime uses white to represent his purity and perfection, but to the people of the colourful, messy world Etheria, this is a cold, eerie colour. As are Horde Prime’s ideals. His perfection and purity is synonymous to coldness. The white represents both- not only simultaneously, but as the same thing.

Horde Prime’s empire being entirely white is no coincidence- neither in-story by Prime, nor in real life by the writers. Horde prime uses white to represent everything he stands for, and the writers use white to represent everything Christianity stands for.

Horde Prime is a being that has lived an amount of lifetimes beyond comprehension- every time his body starts to grow old and fail, he selects a new clone of his to insert his memory and very essence into. So even though he has a new body, he is still him. And the reason for this? To fulfill his self imposed purpose of bringing peace and perfection to the universe. To thousands of planets he has been, one at a time, to reach this. Horde Prime believes there is only one right way to do things, and that humanity cannot be trusted to govern themselves.

Every planet he takes goes the same: he arrives with his ships, and slowly implants chips into the neck of each and every being on a planet. These chips take away the autonomy of the host, and they are left blank. No personality, no choices, no person. All their actions are perfectly automated and controlled by a hive mind, and Horde Prime can take specific control of and see through the eyes of any individual at any given time. With Horde Prime in control, there is no war, no famine, no pain. There is only peace, perfection, and purity. And anyone who does not conform, does not accept his gracious rule, are dealt with accordingly. Entire planets have been left desolate and barren, entire peoples subjected to genocide for not accepting Horde Prime. All dead in the name of peace.

These ideals upheld by Horde Prime are strikingly similar to Christianity. Perfection and purity are two of the main ideals of Christianity, in hand with righteousness. Christians strive to “be like Jesus,” to be their idea of a good person, to be loyal to their religion, and to make it into Heaven. Several rituals to “repent” exist when they feel they have not upheld these standards correctly- including prayer, confessionals, sacrament, and baptism. Even though true perfection, purity, and righteousness are typically seen as unattainable to everyone but the Godhead, it is common belief that constant trying will at least get you as close to it as possible. Conformity is another key aspect of Christianity, though it is not advertised, and to the exact extent it is upheld depends on the sect. In general, though, Christianity pressures every one of its followers (and even those who aren’t) to behave a certain way, to think a certain way, and to only associate with others among themselves.

Horde Prime’s way of upholding these ideals isn’t dissimilar to Christianity’s either. Much like Horde Prime’s Galactic Empire, Christianity has had a long history of forced assimilation. From the Spanish conquistadors to the pilgrims and other colonial settlers of North America, death and pain has come in the wake of the spread of Christianity for hundreds of years, amongst various sects of the religion. Native peoples have been murdered for their loyalty to their “savage” non-Christian ways, land has been stolen, and indigenous religions and other important cultural traditions have been changed past recognition or completely erased, all in the name of “saving,” all in the name of “love,” all in the name of “what’s right,” all in the name of God. Christianity is the only right way, Horde Prime is the only right way.

Its likeness to Christianization isn’t the only resemblance Horde Prime’s ways share with Christianity, however. When Horde Prime arrives at Etheria, three people are brought aboard his ship- Queen Glimmer, one of the Etherian rebels that had been fighting against the Evil Horde (and now the Galactic Empire), Catra, a high-ranking member of the Evil Horde that had been taking over Etheria before the Galactic Empire arrived (but is in love with Adora, who is one of the rebels), and Hordak, the leader of the Evil Horde. Hordak was a clone of Horde Prime’s that had been stranded on Etheria, which was in an isolated dimension. He spent his time in isolation trying to take the planet so that if he was ever reunited with Horde Prime, he would be seen as “worthy”. Horde Prime, however, is displeased by Hordak’s actions- claiming that Hordak was trying to take the planet for selfish reasons rather than for Horde Prime, and for giving himself a name. As such, Hordak must be “purified.”

In this purification process, Hordak’s mind is wiped, and he begs for forgiveness and to complete the process. He is then dressed in white and walks into a circular pool with liquid that reaches his waist. The liquid is electrified for several moments, and his screams can be heard, and then it stops. He is left blank, and Horde Prime and the other clones watching praise him for being the purest among them. Later, Catra is subjected to the same process against her will, and is now a mindless servant of Horde Prime as well. This process is almost identical to the Christian concept of Baptism. While exactly how baptism is carried out varies between sects (full submersion under water versus just a sprinkling, infant versus child, etc), the purpose remains the same- to purify past sins.

A more abstract similarity between Horde Prime’s empire and Christianity is the use of titles. Prime’s clones refer to each other as “brother” (and to Catra as “sister,” once she has been “purified”), and Horde Prime as “big brother.” Not all sects of Christianity use such titles to refer to each other, but some do; notably Catholic nuns or members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons). But even those sects who do not refer to each other as brother and sister often view Jesus as their “older brother” and God as their “heavenly father.”

Horde Prime himself has many more titles than simply “brother” or Emperor of the Galactic Horde, however. Other titles given to him include Ruler of the Known Universe, Regent of the Seven Skies, He Who Brings the Day and the Night, Revered one of the Shining galaxies, and Promised one of a Thousand Suns. In Christianity, Jesus also is referred to by many names. The Saviour, the Redeemer, the Son of God, the Son of Man, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the Prince of Peace, the Lamb of God, and several more. In addition to titles, some of the phrases in general used by Christians and the Galactic Empire are common. Both use the word “rejoice” when telling of their faith. Amongst Christians, “glory to God in the highest” and “[God] is the same yesterday, today, and forever” are not uncommon phrases. “Glory be to Horde Prime” is a common phrase expressed by the clones, and even more so, the infamous mantra “Horde Prime sees all, Horde Prime knows all” repeated so many times throughout the season.

The titles used for each other perpetuate a feeling of conformity and a feeling of “otherness” concerning those who do not conform. The titles used for their leaders perpetuate subservience, power imbalances, respect, and devotion. The phrases used in relation to their leaders perpetuate devotion and omnipotence. These are true of both Horde Prime’s Galactic Empire and Christianity.

Horde Prime was a genuinely disturbing villain who represented every painful thing Christianity is made of- toxic perfectionism and purity, conformity, obedience, control, and omnipotence. Loss of expression and individuality. The fear of being constantly watched. These are things that anyone with religious trauma may deal with, but it’s especially true of queer people. Queer people have had a long history of oppression at the hand of Christianity (and colonialism in general). From outright murder to conversion therapy and other abuses, from abandonment to dismissal, Christianity has perpetuated all of it for centuries. And it’s still something that happens today.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power has a majorly queer audience, due to both the creative process of the show and the representation within the series itself. Not only is the creator of the series (ND Stevenson) queer, but so was practically every character- whether they were a main character, side character, or background character with only a few seconds of screen time. One of the main plots of the show is the complicated lesbian romance between Adora and Catra. As such, the series attracted a good number of queer fans, and religious trauma (or at the very least, religious fear) is a topic that hits uncomfortably close for many.

Other pieces of media that incorporate religious imagery have a tendency to be unclear about how it is framed. Is the imagery shown to be wrong and the victim is right and prevails? Is the imagery shown to be right, and the pained victim in terrified denial? Is the imagery shown to be truly wrong but inevitably triumphant anyways, no matter what the victim tries? It is so muddy in so many pieces of media. The important thing about the fifth season of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power was how it was framed. Perhaps it was because it was a kids show, or perhaps it was the queer creators’ spirit and defiance, but the series was clear in their framing of Horde Prime. The perfect white make the audience uneasy. Horde Prime’s retelling of his victories fill the audience with dread and then hollowness. The “baptisms” of Hordak and Catra are disturbing. Every aspect of Horde Prime and everything he stood for was presented as wrong. Without any doubt.

And even more importantly, the people of Etheria were able to prevail. She-Ra and the other princesses were able to defeat Horde Prime and his empire, and free those forced into subservience by his chips. Catra (and Hordak) were saved. The ships were destroyed. The people of Etheria were allowed to be free and express themselves and be people. This message was something very important to the queer audience. Not only was the fifth season an expression of queer pain, but an expression of queer hope. Neither thing should be ignored. Pain is valid. Hope is needed. To be healthy, both need to be recognized. To have a series that expressed both, and in such a queer way, was extremely important to so many people.

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dracui · 2 years ago

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tags!

#HIS NAME IS LEGION FOR HE IS MANY. / DRACULA.#AND THEN ALL LIGHT WILL END AND THE WORLD WILL LIVE IN DARKNESS. / VERSE.#STEPPED DOWN INTO THE OLDER BLOOD. INTO THE CANYONS WHERE TERROR LURKED. / AE.#SUCH IS OUR POWER. SUCH IS OUR KINGDOM. SUCH IS MY KISS. / VANESSA.#YOU'VE COME FREELY INTO THE DRAGON'S CAVE. / ANSWERED.

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thatnonameuser · 1 month ago

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I Adore your Yandere- Verse AU for the Twst world, Much so indeed! Awaken thoughts and Imagination into the void~

Question(s) Is there particularly a category of variety Yandere/ Darlings? Very Rare or Uncommon pairs that was recorded due it’s so bizarre, because as it default are seen Darlings are the lambs and the Yandere’s are Wolves. Either the lambs be clever to fit in,be served on a Silver platter. Wolves be caring in love as vicious to their prey lovers. Maybe in depends in different lands where they hail, due to historical means? Are these Darlings Shamed on, Adored like an extinct race or Taken in for status coded for benefits?

Ex. A Sado-masochist yet wild passionate Darling who sees opportunities Positives in Their Yandere. Experimental of all that could be used for Spicy activities and always anew entertaining each day. ( Maybe Addams family coded)

Ex. Perhaps a Darling who is Dangerously experienced who once military? Tall in structure yet Lonely. Their Yandere might be a Trickster, bubbly and be a vice. Height difference yet questionable of who is who in the relationship. Especially if Darling has the ability to stop their Yandere with a soft gaze.

Ex. A Darling who just adores Shocking their Yandere to be an odd anomaly. A Sleepy,Too Carefree, accidentally enables the other habits and role. A Rival that Challenges who can do their absolute worst of who can do the other to leave them speechless? The Daredevil Darling?

Ex. Maybe a complementary couple of who is the Strength or who is the Brains. The magnetic pull of opposites. With So many Romantic Shipping troupes the following be so terrifyingly trilling?

Would it be funny such.. Healthy relationships be odd?? When the Darling is over happily with their Yandere(s)?

In this world, there are three types of people.

The yanderes, the figurative, and sometimes literal, wolves. They hunt their prey ruthlessly desperate to fill that hunger in their hearts.

The darlings, the figurative, and again sometimes literal, lambs. They are the prey that either try to hide themselves under the pelts of wolves or waltz into their den, prepared to be devoured.

And those that aren't either, the other forest creatures, that watch the lambs get devoured in frenzied love.

But even with these three types, the two are divided into pieces. Wolves that thrive in the dark, or roll in fields with the lambs in the light. Lambs that hide in burrows to afraid to live, and the lambs that play with the wolves like the friends the wolves aren't.

So much difference. And yet in the end they're all the same.

Mostly, the idea of a darling and what their role should be is different in every nation, country and town.

But what about the weird darlings, the non-traditional ones. And the yanderes that seem so odd or strange that it never made sense that they were yanderes. But darlings can act like yanderes and still be darlings, and the yanderes can act like darlings and still be yanderes.

All darling and yandere relationships are fine, the yandere could be the victim in the relationship, and all would still be fine.

A sado-masochistic darling and a weakling yandere that allows her to be as cruel as she wants.

A stoic and cold-hearted darling and a jokester yandere that is horrified with violence, abuse and death.

A darling obsessed with defying life and death and a yandere that's terrified by death, and losing their darling, that's along for the ride.

Healthy relationships in the darling-yandere dynamic are so rare and barely sought after by yanderes. As many yanderes are under the belief that darlings need them to protect them so boundaries are hard to place in the relationships.

So because of that, some look down on the yanderes not taking charge and others see the relationship as fine. But it's completely legal so there's nothing to worry about.

#ask #i love asks #yandereverse au #yandere

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steviewashere · 10 months ago

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Laughter Like a Kiss on the Lips

Rating: General CW: Steve Harrington has Lackluster Parents (Not Terrible, But Not Amazing Either) Tags: Established Relationship, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Dialogue Heavy, Making Promises, Reflecting on the Good Parts of Childhood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Laughter, Tickling, Ticklish Steve Harrington For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is wanting to know everything about what makes up the person you're in love with, even the difficult stuff."

💕—————💕

They’ve been laying on the carpet of Steve’s living room for the better half of an hour. Sprawled, loose, listening to one another breathe. The day’s been a long one. Early work shifts, car breakdowns, a short and resolved argument. It’s just been rough.

Debriefing usually results in this. Silence and floor. Closed eyes and steady chests. But Eddie, the restless jumble of energy he is, begins to hum. Not something he’d usually go after, at least that’s what Steve believes. Isn’t heavy. Isn’t loud or dark or saturated. Light. Effervescent and warm. Like sun rays cascading through a stain glass window.

It’s almost country, funny enough. Again, at least that’s what Steve thinks it is. He’s not the most versed when it comes to music. Sure, he knows about jazz and pop and early rock, blues and all. He’s aware of all that and some more indie things that Robin likes to shove down his throat when they’re driving out somewhere. But Eddie’s not one to steer far from his usual course, so this humming music he’s got going on, it’s new yet welcomed to Steve.

“That’s new,” he points out.

Eddie stops and his head shifts against the carpet, hair lightly scraping. He’s gonna be a frizzy mess, but Steve adores taking care of it at the end of the day. A questioning hum emanates. But neither of them open their eyes.

“The song you got stuck in your head,” Steve notes, “it’s a new one.”

Chuckling, Eddie mumbles, “Ain’t that new.” Steve hears him turn on his side. His voice closer against the shell of his ear, facing towards him then. “Something from when I was growing up.”

“Wayne like country or something?”

Eddie scoffs. “It isn’t country, Stevie. It’s bluegrass. Different kind of folk, babe.” A hand settles on Steve’s chest. His thumb rubs in circles where Steve’s heart is. “‘Nine Pound Hammer’, but it’s Merle Travis’s version. Mom was from eastern Tennessee, the Appalachian region. Lots of folk songs come from the Appalachian people.”

Steve opens his eyes and lolls his head to look directly at Eddie. They softly smile at each other. “She sing that to you?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Eddie murmurs. “More so heard it on her records. She wasn’t the best singer, not to speak ill of the dead. But—“ He sucks his teeth. “—Yeah, she’d sing. Dance to it, too. Dad came from Tennessee, too, but moved up to Indiana when he was a little kid. Didn’t stop him from pursuing a failed music career or women. He sang to her, what she liked, played it on his acoustic.”

Steve hums. “Music is your family’s world, isn’t it?”

Eddie chuckles again. “Well, it got my parents together. And they had me. So, it’s kinda like god in a sense. The life bringer.” He sighs. “What about you, Stevie? Got any songs from your childhood?”

Thinking back, no not really. His parents have always been very distant from one another. Not necessarily away from him, but the crumbling of their marriage lead to the rusting of the bridge that connected the three of them. There isn’t any rich storytelling within the Harrington name either. Nothing like a cute little meeting at a bar on the outskirts of town. Or even something where they went from high school rivals to close friends to lovers and then back to strangers.

No, his parents were forced to meet over a business deal meeting. Forced into a marriage neither of them wanted. And they made love in the dark. Steve was conceived in a dark bedroom where only their stuttered breaths could be heard. And they didn’t look after one another. Didn’t take care of each other, not like Steve does with Eddie and Eddie does with Steve.

So he shrugs. “No,” he answers honestly.

“Really?” Eddie incredulously questions, “Nothing at all?” He sits up on one of his elbows, eyes wide down at Steve. “That feels hard to believe.”

“You wanted to know, so I’m telling you. It’s not a pretty story.”

“What isn’t a pretty story? The birth of some song that reminds you of being a little kid?”

“I don’t—There isn’t anything that takes me back to being a little kid. I hated being a little kid. The story’s ugly anyway.”

“Tell me,” Eddie quietly pleads. “Tell me even if it’s shitty, I wanna know.”

He has to really think hard on this. Still, there’s no music. No movies or plays or anything of that nature. Books felt like an obligation, too, when they were teaching him how to read. There was bible study and church Sundays and his starchy, stiff outfit. His mom and her spit slick thumb and his unruly eating habits. Manners taught and hands slapped.

There’s not much good, unfortunately. But, something nice comes to mind.

“My parents didn’t like each other. I don’t think they really knew how to do that,” Steve starts. “I was just kind of a product of that, I guess. Like I was the trophy to complete their gauntlet. They dated and they bought a house and they got engaged and they got married, they had me. Forced dating, though.” He rests his own palm on the back of Eddie’s hand. Scratching dully at his skin. “But, as much as they hated being near one another, there was this one thing they did constantly. That they included me in on.”

Eddie hums. “Sounds promising,” he whispers. “What’d they do, babydoll?”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s wrist. Pulls away and runs his fingers through the ends of Eddie’s curls. “They did each other’s hair. They did my hair, too.” He eyes the frizz that he knew would eventually make itself known. Raking over the pattern of Eddie’s curls. The rough, choppy cut to his bangs. He adores Eddie’s hair. “It was kinda funny. We’d all be topless—sans like my mom’s bra, y’know because the hair would get on our shirts anyway?—and we’d huddle in the downstairs master bathroom. As big as this house is, that room is fucking small.

“I’d sit on the counter. In my sleep shorts, hands wrapped around the soft tummy of this brown teddy bear my mom got me, socks on my feet. Butt on the edge of the sink. Feet kicking around in the open air. I liked to sit in front of my dad.” His hand gently rests on the side of Eddie’s neck, eyes remaining glued to the spot. He’s never shared this before. Kinda wants to remain lost for a while.

Continues, “He has this very thick handlebar mustache. He’s always had it. And as my mom stood behind him—trimming up the top of his head, raking her fingers through with mousse—he’d take his own shears to his ‘stache. Would shape it up, stretch his lips down, raise his eyebrows in focus.

��It made me laugh. And he’d kinda chuckle. But when he was done?”

Eddie’s still smiling at him. He can feel it. His own face must be doing the same. “What’d he do, sweetheart?”

“He’d set his shears to the side and he’d—“ Steve chuckles. “He’d tickle my ribs! The bastard would turn his attention to me, crinkle up his eyes in sadistic laughter, and shove his fingers in my ribs. It was stupid, but I liked it. And obviously, it made me laugh. I used to honk-squeak. Like super loud.” He takes a deep breath, and on the exhale his smile wisps away from him. “It’s the only time we really laughed together. It’s the only time I felt like—Like I was their kid. Not some object to show off. Now I just do my own hair. I miss that time, those feelings,” he quietly admits.

Above him, Eddie gently coos. A soft sound. But when he finally chances a look, there’s a mischievous glint to his eyes. Mirth. In one swift motion, Eddie is straddling his hips, cold hands under Steve’s t-shirt, rucking the clothing up, and jabbing his fingers into his ribs.

Steve tries to shove his hands away, but can’t help the way he surrenders. Curling in on himself, smile stretching across his face, nose scrunching with his laughter, the kind of laughter that leaves him gasping and honking and squeaking. Just like it was when he was a little boy. The sensation leaves him breathless and squealing, slapping at Eddie’s chest. Still smiling and wonderful when Eddie relents.

“And there he is,” Eddie whispers. “There’s Steve Harrington. Smiling at me all gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re ticklish, baby. That’s adorable.”

A half-hearted slap lands to the center of Eddie’s chest. “I told you that with confidence. Don’t use it against me.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Eddie swears. “Eye for an eye. I gave you my love for bluegrass, you gave me the joy of your laughter.” He leans down into Steve’s space again. His body yin-yang to his own. A hand petting over Steve’s hair. “You know what we get to do now?”

Steve gives him his own questioning hum.

“We get to combine. Make our own good memories. Tell each other our tainted stories. About your insufferable parents and my criminal dad and my long-gone mom. About your cold house and mine that was consumed by fire. I’ll melt your ice, you’ll douse my fire. And we find you a song that’ll remind you of the start of this. And you take care of the frizz in my hair.” He kisses Steve’s forehead. Murmuring against the skin, “I saw you eyeing my ends. You ain’t discreet.”

In response, Steve laughs once more. He sighs and leans up into Eddie’s space, a soft kiss square on his lips. Pulling away, he whispers, “To new beginnings.”

“And to happily ever afters,” Eddie promises.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 4 #mild hurt/comfort #fluff

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bettyfrommars · 11 months ago

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hi loves

a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut

nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates

First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.

I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"

I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?

In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."

In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.

Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.

My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.

Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.

That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.

This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️

#Betty thoughts #delulu for life

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wangxianficfinder · 1 year ago

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In the mood for...

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1. Hi how are you?🤭 do you have fic recs that are canondiv (fix it would be better) + abo? I’d loveeeeee if xicheng is also involved (im rewatching it yes)

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2. For the next itmf request, I'm interested in fics where at least one character is understanding of (or even defends) wwx for not being ready/emotionally available for romance as quickly as others would like. (I mean... look at his life. Which spoons, exactly, was he supposed to dedicate to romance?) Basically a more sympathetic take on wwx's late blooming.

does it have to be canon timeline or is modern AU okay?

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) In that story, the entire cast knows that lwj wants to marry wwx, except wwx... but waits for him to be emotionally ready and lwj to make a move before they say something.

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3. Hello (◕‿◕) October has got me in a mood for some spooky fics! I would prefer some that are more fun/lighthearted or atmospheric or unsettling/creepy than gory!

thank you and happy halloween! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Grandmaster of Demonic Party Games by Trickster_Angel (M, 50k, wangxian, modern, humor, horror, paranormal)

lovely thorns and singing crows by isabilightwood (E, 37k WangXian, Modern AU, Addams Family Vibes, meet cute at a funeral, Madam Lán Lives, Light Horror, Curses, Possession, Fluff and Humor, Developing Relationship, Found Family, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs) Addams family spooky/wholesome vibes!

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4. ITMF canon divergence/ canon compliant/ canon era: wangxian wedding fic like twelve moons and a fortnight Verse. Preferably long fics. I mean the wedding should be there, but it can be / cannot be the main focus of the fic. I don't mind either way.

With Absolute Splendor by Lise (T, 43k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, JC & JL, Post-Canon, POV JC,JC is Bad at Feelings, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Weddings, Wedding Planning, Some politics, Complicated Relationships, Brothers, let's do some HEALING and RELATIONSHIP BUILDING, jc and lwj still don't like each other very much, Angst with a Happy Ending, some people? plan weddings?? to cope???, Podfic Available)

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 70 k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) Read tags and warnings, but big on world building and feat wangxian wedding

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5. Hello, I love this community and the work the mods do for it! For the next In The Mood For, could I get recs for Wangxian with Sugar Daddy LWJ? Doesn't have to be explicit or a formal sugaring arrangement, just the vibes is also good. @aralintheobsessive

All Old Things are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 51k, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengQing, Reincarnation, Modern AU, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators)

Baby, You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet by TriviasFolly (E, 79k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, modern, ABO, mafia au, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Omega LSZ, Crime, Clans, Sects are Clans, Feral WWX, Feral Omegas, once again making WWX a feral murdering machine, Nurse WWX, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Possessive Behavior, Possessive LWJ, WWX plays with his fem side, feminine WWX, wwx's cannon desire to be a sugar baby/trophy wife, Breeding Kink, Mpreg, wwx tries to use lwj but catches feels, and lwj knew what he was doing all along, wwx posing as mxy, wwx 'secret' identity, meandering self indulgent plot, WWX and LWJ have dating histories)

A Sure Thing by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 95k, WangXian, Modern AU, Sugar Daddy, Sex Work, Light Dom/sub, Aftercare, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Bondage, use of sex toys, boundary setting, Relationship Negotiation, many baths, Barebacking) A Sure Thing by vesna is one of my absolute faves

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6. Hello Mods! I just watched a beautifully heartbreaking animatic and now I really just have to ask if you know any fics where WWX specifically is the one to hide little A-yuan away before the siege?

thank you in advance! hope you have a lovely day!

Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues)

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7. Hello amazing people! For the next itmf, could you please recommend some extremely kind, soft, sweet or comfort fics? It may be a tooth-rotting sweet love story or a nice and funny one with junior adventures. Preferably something with Wei Wuxian as one of the central characters!

I am interested to see what people usually read when they get sad or depressed or, for example, disturbed by some sad/dead-dovy story and read something extremely comforting which helps to raise the mood and concentrate on positive and happy thoughts. Something that would return you from the pit of distress into fluffy and sweet cloud, if the story makes you hide in your pillow from love, humour and cuteness, it's definitely one. Thank you so much 💜 @shellennium

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Mojo’s bookmark)

can you feel it by lanzhancore (E, 5k, wangxian, modern, Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Slice of Life, Fluff and Humor, Idiot Lovers, LWJ pets WWX a lot, Crack Treated Seriously)

should i fly to los angeles (find my asshole brother) 🔒 by belovedmuerto (T, 7k, WangXian, Modern AU, JC POV, Reunion fic of sorts, Southern California, Relationship Reveal, Established Relationship, Toddler A-Yuan)

i know who i want to take me home by ScarlettStorm (E, 16k, wangxian, modern, bartender WWX, drunk LWJ, caretaking, meet-cute, fluff, comedy, smut, minor angst, major shenanigans)

Blooming Days by Atsushiis (G, 7k, wangxian, Modern, College/University au, Meet-Cute, First Dates, First Kiss, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, LWJ Has Feelings, Let LWJ talk about his feelings agenda, Romance, Falling In Love, Wangxian are softer than a baby bunny, gratuitous handholding, Give LWJ hugs agenda, LWJ Protection Squad, Spanish Translation Available)

a baby rabbit is called a kitten and other fun facts by aurora_chiroptera (G, 11k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, modern, kid fic, youtube/social media au, Mutual Pining, NHS uses they/them pronouns, JZX is a trans lesbian and uses she/her pronouns, Child LSZ, Long-Distance Relationship, Fluff, and bunnies, Soft wangxian, Good Parent WWX, Single Parent WWX, this also in part became a psa about rabbit care? who knew, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, Nonbinary NHS, LWJ Has Friends, set in the US)

The tea to my heart by blackmorphos (T, 83k, wangxian, modern, Fluff, Developing Relationship, LWJ makes a friend, A-Yuan gets a much bigger part than planned, A-Yuan is very cute, WWX is cute too, angst but it in the past, a drunk scene, Lots of Tea, some steam buns, Falling In Love)

The Art of Communication by mrcformoso (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Meet-Cute, Engineering Student WWX, Music Student LWJ, Swimmer WWX, Martial Artist LWJ, POV Outsider, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Communication Issues, But Wanxian Makes it Work, LWJ has limited words, WWX has too many words, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Love Languages, Requited Love) for tooth rotting fluff

Just Ask Me To Stay by mrcformoso (M, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, Former JZ/WWX, Minor NieLan, Minor XuanLi, No Powers, Dancer WWX, Musician LWJ, Roommates, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Recovery, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Domestic Fluff, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Size Queen WWX, Belly Bulge, Porn With Plot, WWX Has Friends, LWJ Has Friends, Hurt/Comfort, A lot of comfort, Romantic Comedy, Cuter story than the summary makes it out to be, Feel-good) for comfort comfort comfort

Three changes. by orange_crushed (M, 18k, wangxian, fluff, hijinks & shenanigans, cloud recesses shenanigans, no war au, everyone lives au, romantic comedy, fade to black, friends to lovers, falling in love, harm to animals, non-graphic violence, sparring, developing friendships, hurt/comfort, first time)

Worship you till morning comes by feyburner (E, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, Meet-Cute, First Dates, First Time, Fluff, Kissing, Hand Jobs, Falling In Love) when you want it just to all go well for wx for once

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8. Helo!!! I'm in the mood for a fic (preferably not modern AU, just canon setting) where Wwx is either a brother figure or a father figure to Mxy. I just wanna see Mxy being taken care of by Wwx.

no one ever said the single-plank bridge had to be walked alone by rosemu (T, 174k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Yílíng Wèi Sect au, Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies au, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Fluff, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Slow Burn, LWJ and WWX get to be Dads together, the healing power of homoerotic flute/guqin duets, Happy Ending) WWX recruits MXY as a disciple after JGY kicks him out of the Jin sect

The storm comes and goes (and I keep walking) by Naamah_Beherit (M, 41k, LSZ & WWX, MXY & WWX, LSZ & MXY, WWX & WN, WWX & OCs, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Blood and Injury, Reunions, POV Multiple, Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Identity Reveal, POV Outsider, No Romance, Mojo's post here)

i’ll take a secondhand monster by Stratisphyre (T, 24k, MXY & WWX, MXY & JGY, LWJ & LSZ & MXY, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Bullying, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kid fic, Minor canonical character death, Injured WWX, Earn Your Happy Ending)

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9. Hi! For the next ITMF, could you recommend me

A) a failed ambush at qionqi path. Like WWX didn't come to the celebration/WWX and JZX alive

B) a succesful one. Like WWX dies/WWX, JZN, JZX dies (all of them dies)

Thank you!!! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

All these are a mix of A & B, in the sense that the ambush fails (WWX & JZX live), but WWX is assumed dead at first & the cultivation world reacts as if he is. So a little of both depending on how you look at it.

in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian)

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Fix-It, the inherent eroticism of under robes, Golden Core Transfer)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

9A)

Home and the Heartland by Witch_Nova221 (T, 210k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, Burial Mounds, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Slow Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self-Discovery, Golden Core Reveal, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, the burial mounds aren’t always a happy place, but wangxian do their best) Has LWJ finding out about the ambush in advance & intervening

9B)

ius in bello by Lise (T, 2k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Tearjerker, Sad Ending, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Not A Fix-It, POV JC, [Podfic] ius in bello by flamingwell)

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10. Hi! Thank you for running this blog, I’ve found so many good fics from here.

I want to ask, for ITMF, do you have any fics where there’s a lot of world building, especially with cultivation (demonic or otherwise). An example I could think of is ‘Talking is Better than Silence’ by KuroiWrites, and ‘Flute in Wartime’ series.

If that’s too restrictive, could I ask for general world building ones. Long fics preferred.

Thank you very much!!

Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy (T, 87k, wangxian, modern cultivation, music, kid fic, action/adventure, canon typical JGY behavior, slow burn, fluff & angst, happy ending)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 712k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) Goes into lots of detail about how talismans work & how scholars go about presenting & selling their work

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 70 k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) (link in #4) Read tags and warnings, but big on world building and feat wangxian wedding

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11. currently reading cherry cultivation by bengsi, and now i'm in the mood for fics with characters who can read minds :D

Losing My Mind by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Humor, Protective JC, JC drinks a potion that lets him hear people’s lustful thoughts, Teenage LWJ has a lot of feelings, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses study arc) JC drinks a potion that allows him to hear lustful thoughts during CRSA & it goes exactly how you'd expect

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12. Noncon tw

Fic where autistic lan wangji or autistic lan xichen gets gangraped and has a meltdown during the rape?

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13. Hii! For the next itmf, do you have any fics where lwj and/or wwx get hit on or flirted with by other people and what their reaction is, while they are both (lwj and wwx) in a relationship with each other. Thank you💕

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14. ITMF fics where A) there's scene like or feels like - someone hit/tortured/injured/or something bad to wwx and wwx is like ' oh no you're so dead. My brother is going to kill you. He's going to fkin tear you apart '

Or B) something with protective strong bro jc.

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15. Hi! Me again, hahaha. This is for ITMF. ☺️

Looking for the fic about the LWJ curse, it's made me want to read more fanfics where LWJ gets cursed and WWX helps him. If it's the Lan sect or the Cultivation world that is cursed also interests me. The thing is WWX helping people and happy endings please. 🙏

My favorites are the ones that take place before WWX dies, but the fics post-Canon are welcome too. Thank you! 🥰💜 @wangxiansgirl

green sleeves growing cold by mistergoblin (G, 17k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fairy Tale Elements, Mild Angst, Fluff, jealousy & misunderstandings, curses as an excuse for more Yearning, LWJ POV, LWJ centric, Repression, No War AU, Touch-Starved, Everyone lives, Happy Ending)

moonlight caught in mutton fat by Raitelzen (T, 45k, WangXian, Case Fic, Curses, Curse Breaking, Transformation, mild body horror, Hurt LWJ, Ghosts)

Unavoidable by diamondbruise (T, 18k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Amnesia, Jealousy, LWJ just is like that idk what to tell you, Misunderstandings, Falling In Love, Again, Happy Ending, it's that thing where they're married but lwj can't remember wwx and they meet again)

A Curse of a Different Color by nickel710 (G, 35k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, Curses, Curse Breaking, Asexual polyamory, Repressed LWJ, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drunk LWJ, Falling In Love, WWX Being an Idiot, Non-explicit vomit, just a tiny reference to it, Anxiety)

💖 I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Curses, Intimacy, Yearning, Happy Ending, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Immortality, Fluff, Angst)

beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 12k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Confessions, Curses, Embarrassment, Vulnerability, LWJ is hopelessly in love, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Angst and Fluff and Smut, all the good stuff basically, Honesty, Communication, Podfic Available, Portuguese translation, french translation, Spanish Translation, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

Blue water by huxiyi (E, 25k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Temporary Amnesia, Case Fic, Curses, Cultivation Sect Politics, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Depression, Discussion of Grief, Discussion of bodies, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom/sub Undertones, Under-negotiated Kink, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (E, 21k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Night hunts, Curses, Intimacy, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, They're married and they're in love) my all time fave cursed!lwj fic

~*~

16. Hello! This is for a future ITMF ask! Are there any fics where WangXian (or just one of them, preferably Wei Wuxian!) met Word of Honor's Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu? Thanks in advance!

The Young Masters of Four Seasons Manor by gaotamao (G, 91k, WangXian, WenZhou, YeRong, Time Regression fix-it, WKX raises monstrous sons, Not Jiang Sect Friendly, No Golden Core Transfer)

Consort Lan by UmiAzuma (M, 19k, wangxian, wenzhou, LWJ & ZZS, WWX & WKX, ZCL & LSZ, JC/LXC, hualian, bingqiu, WWX is a Menace, WWX is the second madam lan, WKX and ZZS are Parents of ZCL, WWX and WKX are besties, everyone is baffled at how pretty WWX is, Crack, WIP)

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17. First, thank you to the mods & thank you in advance to everyone for the recs! <3 For the next ITMF: I have two requests! A) Any fic that involves babytrapping in any capacity; and B) fic with onesided-cheng/xian (jc has feelings for wwx, wwx doesn't reciprocate) and endgame wang/xian <3

17A)

truly a love story for the ages by sweetlolixo (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Omegaverse, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dark!Wangxian, Power Couple, slight daddy kink, Crack, Pregnant WWX) my very favorite UNINTENTIONAL mutual baby trapping fic 💕

17B)

Bitter Endings; New Beginnings by miixz (T, 7k, wangxian, WN & WWX, major character death, ABO, Arranged Marriage, Unrequited Love, Stalking, Not JC Friendly, Unrequited JC/WWX, Alpha JC, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, No War au, Wēn Remnants Live, Brothers WWX & WN, Light Angst, Fluff, Falling In Love, endgame wangxian)

Meant to be (but not the way I wanted) by sekhmetpaws (E, 49k, wangxian, one-sided JC/WWX, JL/LSZ, modern, ABO, One-Sided Relationship, Abusive Relationships, feelings feelings feelings, Most of them are, Angst, Not between wangxian, Teen Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, kicked out, Discussion of Abortion, Alpha JC, Omega WWX, Mpreg, not Jiang friendly, Alpha LWJ, Not JC Friendly, Wangxian are very happy here)

you can have my absence of faith by Anonymous (M, 3k, wangxian, one-sided JC/WWX, rape/non-con, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Accidental Voyeurism, JC is entitled, possessive JC, Dark JC, LWJ reflects on his parents, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Sunshot Campaign, Internalized Homophobia, Coming Out, LWJ POV, Not JC Friendly)

his right hand man 🔒 by Anonymous (E, 3k, wangxian, one-sided JC/WWX, rape/non-con, not JC friendly, Dark JC, One-Sided Attraction, Past Rape/Non-con, Wangxian's canon kinks, Consensual Non-Con, Rape Roleplay, Don't Try This At Home, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Jealousy, Homophobia, Pseudo-Incest, Canon Typical Classism, Heavy Angst, Dysfunctional Family, specter of dark LWJ if vengence counts as dark, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Vent!fic, Unreliable Narrator, let WWX be angry, Past Child Abuse, Anger)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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