#I have to be vague because I genuinely do not know exactly what happened but I WILL be back to this once I've played through again

[dereks-unrelenting-heart]

SFTH Chaotic Highlights (Sorry About My Nan)

Briefly posting these out of order because I am way too fixated on this play. It has the psychological horror of a cult, one of Tom's eldritch villains, and dark humor, this shit was made for me-

The few minutes of vague trauma recounting as Sam and AJ internally debate which of them is gonna drop any information at all

As well as who the grandson of the title Nan is going to be, because I feel like Sam was ready for the role at first with the 'that was embarrassing'

"I just think it's good when things like this happen just to sit with it for a second, before you.. have a breakdown" Most real thing an AJ character has ever said

Jim asking if his own nan is still alive, whether AJ knew it at the time or not, as if even he was kinda hoping she wasn't

"Who invites their nan on their bachelor party??" Jamie asking the real questions. Unfortunately for him, this is the least weird thing that's going to happen on this stag do

Luke finally gets to experience the joys of playing a chaotic farm animal

They've had plenty of problems with names before, but idk if I've ever seen two actors try to give a character a name at the same time until now

Hey what the FUCK did Ethel do to Big Jim Clive's wallet?? WHAT WAS HER SHOW?!

Yet another instance of Luke's minor characters being incredibly well done- Like everything he says sound genuinely mortified

"I just feel shattered, you know?" I'm using this. You ca take this line from my cold, dead hands, it's how I'm describing every minor inconvenience in my life from now on

Also it was funny and all, but Sam was fucking dying like it was a joke from earlier in the show or something-

Anyway #JusticeForBigJimClive #AndHisWallet

"Listen, I've stood by you for a lot, but that?? I just don't understand.." - the man who's about to go through a cult initiation for his 'best friend'

"Are you my best friend?" Jim is the only one who would feel the need to ask this question at this point

Tom's using the shirt around his waist to symbolize Ethel flashing Jamie is some great stagecraft, I must say

It's the 'nanananana' build-up to an anticlimactic 'ethel' for me

Had to google what an air tag was, but yeah those are pretty big to spike a drink with

We never did get clarification for why Ethel said the wedding was her big day

Rip headphone users for AJ's "I KNOW" I forgot about it for the rewatch and fucking OW MY EARS-

"It's pre-used" Don't eat the bacon, Jamie. I repeat, DO NOT EAT THE BACON

"THANK GOD" "She- what do you mean thank god?" "Sorry, I mean oh god.. thank you" I said enough about this in another post but someone get Jamie tf out of here

"You've got so many teeth" Jericho flashbacks

I've made a post now on the Lucy/Julie thing, but to summarize, idc that she changed her name at the end, I will always call her Julie. It feels disrespectful not to-

"Listen, listen- She's asleep!" Jamie was not convinced of that. He just didn't want Jim to inject her with adrenaline to bring her back again. I see right through you, Jamie-

I just wanna know when exactly the first thought of 'Ethel is a cult leader' happened. Because there's a pretty good chance it was Luke when he said there was a statue dedicated to her

Okay on rewatch, that was definitely the moment. Luke knew what he was doing to the plot

I'm convinced that Luke saw Sam playing all these problem causing animal characters and thought 'fuck it I want in', resulting in this play's sheep scene. He is having the time of his life being a sheep, getting to chew on Tom's shirt and shit. He is laughing his ass off while causing problems for his other character. I love watching the boys have fun-

I know it's because he's brainwashed, but I fucking love Luke's german farmhand character being the only one in the room who is not only comfortable around Ethel, but actively excited to see her

Ethel calling the farmhand 'good boy' is the second time in a row Luke has been called that during a longform

"She seems happy here, why don't we just leave her with this guy?" Honestly a great idea, why would anyone be against this

Stag. stag. stag. STAG. STAG. STAG.

"Not one seat each" Why was my first thought not them sitting on each others' lap, but sharing the chair half-and-half, like two people fighting over a seat in musical chairs

"Be a good mate" "You're really pushing that" Is he, Jamie? You're about to willingly go through so much for him, is sharing a seat really pushing it for you?? Pining gays istg-

"I'm here for my best friend's stag do. I will do what he wants to do for the rest of the weekend, and then we will move on." Buddy. I am not doing that shit for my best friend. You are in love.

"It's like an A24 film" Big thank you to Sam, for being the reason they all leant into that theme for the rest of the show

"My name.. Is WILHELM." Jamie, exasperated: "... great."

The fact only the subtitlers acknowledged Sam repeatedly calling them 'numchucks'

"I think he wants us to fight" "WHY? Why do you go to that??" To be fair, my mind also went to that..

Jim: *tries to kill Jamie* Jamie: *doesn't attack him back and is entirely undeterred in his loyalty/friendship* I know what you are

"Wilkommen.. To the Cabaret!!" And just like that all the musical theater nerds lost their minds

I haven't even seen Cabaret, but I've heard the first song and immediately knew and was thrilled about what he was doing

Nah Tom was right in this instance, Sam he had a German accent and everything ofc this isn't Ethel

I like the subtle acting of Jamie saying 'NO!' to the request, and when Jim follows it up with the next word, Jamie looks at him with a very distinct 'you're doing this?' expression. Bro looks more betrayed than when Jim tried to murder him

Emcee living for the drama is so real

Emcee casually sitting on his stage partner's corpse as well as offering him the microphone

"Me neither" the audience laughs but like. That was incredibly unsettling.

"How's the best man?" Very suspicious thing to ask, Fake Julie

"I love you and I always have.. And I would never betray you" Okay but you didn't say you pwomise him, so I'm hesitant to believe you

Jamie's "Are we in Bristol??" to "WE'RE NOT IN BRISTOL!" pipeline

So.. am I the only one who thought Jamie was talking to Julie in the ending scene before Sam clarified he was her mother?

Ethel throwing her shirt onstage with her little 'eh!' noise is so funny

"For convincing me to invite your nan to my bachelorette party" INSANE THING TO AGREE TO JULIE

She's also horribly suited for cult brainwashing wtf did you set her up for Jim-

Also just noticed yet another parallel between Jamie/Jim and Amanda/Clarissa, with the same actor who played the ignored love interest also playing the role of priest at the wedding

Luke immediately going for the bridal hold in AJ's arms and being so content there

Conclusion: It really would've been better for everyone involved if Jamie got together with Jim instead. Jim doesn't have the girl who came onto his best friend, Jamie gets to be with his crush, and Julie doesn't have to change her name to Lucy. And Luke is very good at playing brainwashed cultists, which is the exact reason I'm excited to see his episode of Black Mirror. Oh, also I really hope this longform continues getting the attention it deserves, it's so fucking good

[sugarfortia]

I have yet to play all the way through Act 6, but I started thinking about the tragedy that is Loop and can't stop. More thoughts below, probably major ISAT spoilers.

Can you imagine waking up one day with no name, no language, no home, no family? Having to rebuilding all those basic things, piece by piece, just to be able to continue on. Eventually, you find yourself with something so dear you would trade the world for it. Then, slowly but surely, it's being taken from you. Your family, your memories. You struggle to keep it, but it isn't enough. You fail, again and again, one step forward met with two steps back.

Inevitably, you lose it all. You are left only with things that serve as a harsh reminder that once again, you can never go back. You can never have them back. You can never have you back, at least not in a way that matters. The universe trudges on, unwilling and unable to look back.

All this to say, the idea of Loop being able to rebuild themselves and their life means a lot to me. Twin souls, one leading the other back into the sun. Is this anything.

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #13 死

† the wound that always bleeds †

"Like a mathematical equation, turns out sleeping next to a warm body has always been the solution, which to Jungkook is ironic. Just how ironic it is to Taehyung, that Jeon keeps pretending he's above everything and everyone."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 6,5k

rating: mature

content: walk of shame (not), sharing secrets, best friend gossip, 8 hours of sleep for jeon (yay), v's sadistic streak shining through, v being a psychotic lil' shit, takama stepping in to save the day, v ruining lives for the fun of it and jimin being too soft for his own good (why do i always do this shit to jimin bro)

☠ author's note ☠

First of all, Kiki Nation on Tumblr is FUCKING UNHINGED. The goal was 200 notes and it took y'all less than 24 hours. I'm flabbergasted. But also it was smut so... understandable. I see you, horny little gremlins. I respect your dedication.

So here's chapter 13! (I had to proofread this while revising tax law so if something doesn't make sense, it's your fault somehow. Don't question my logic.)

AHHHHH I finally got to show off V's more psychotic nature! His little sadistic side coming out to play! He's such a little shit I love him. Writing characters with mental instability is my emotional support activity.

Well well well, things are slowly unveiling, huh? So what the fuck happened?! Who is Sylvia?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!

That's for me to know and you to lose sleep over for now (◕‿◕✿)

You know, sometimes I genuinely forget you don't have access to the absolute chaos that is my brain. Like it's genuinely hard for me to understand this from an outside perspective because I have the whole plot mapped out in excruciating detail, but you're still in the dark and it's like—is it too obvious? Is it too vague? AM I BEING COHERENT?

The eternal struggle of writing mysteries when you already know the answer. It's like trying to play poker while everyone can see your cards except you think they can't but maybe they can a little bit?? This is why I don't sleep.

Anyway, that's it for now! Love you all, you enablers of my questionable coping mechanisms! (ง •̀_•́)ง

EDIT: If you haven’t read the prologue… you must. Otherwise this is going to be hard to understand bahahaha.

⚔ socials ⚔

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The alarm rips through your dreams like a knife, and god—you've never hated a sound more in your life.

Your eyelids feel like they're made of lead, your body heavy with the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from... well. Last night's activities.

The blankets are so warm, and you smell like pine and sex and masculine. Just five more minutes...

Then reality bitch-slaps you awake. You're in Jeon's tent. At dawn. Which is exactly where you're not supposed to be.

His leg is thrown over yours, arm draped across your waist like he's trying to keep you there. It's almost... cute?

No, not cute. Definitely not cute. Just annoying. And inconvenient.

You nudge him with your elbow, trying to wiggle free without fully waking him. The grunt he makes is surprisingly soft.

"Stay still..." His voice is rough with sleep, half-muffled against your shoulder. "Just five more minutes. Let me doze off again before you go."

You huff but stop moving. It's just five minutes, right? Not like anyone's awake yet anyway. And he's so warm, his breath steady against your skin.

It's... nice. In a way that's probably dangerous.

His breathing evens out quickly, dropping back into sleep. The mighty Chief Jeon, passed out and cuddling. If you weren't so tired, you'd probably laugh.

When you finally ease out from under him, his body twitches slightly—this tiny, unconscious movement that's so unexpectedly human.

It's so weird seeing him like this, soft and sleep-warm skin. Almost makes you forget he's the gang's deadliest assassin.

Or one of them, if you consider V.

Better not tell Jeon you thought that, anyway.

You wiggle back into your clothes as quietly as possible, trying not to wake him—leggings, panties, bra, that stupid crewneck that started all this. No need to give the rest of the camp a morning show.

You crawl out of his tent like the trained seductress you are—silent and graceful. Well, as graceful as anyone can be at ass o'clock in the morning.

The camp is dead quiet except for the occasional snore from distant tents.

Your heart doesn't stop hammering until you're safely away from his tent. The morning air hits your skin, fresh and sharp, washing away the lingering scent of pine and sex.

With each step, you build up that sense of normalcy that someone who didn't fuck a chief last night should wear. No walk of shame here—just a perfectly normal morning stroll. Nothing to see.

The portable table catches your eye as you pass—someone's left out water bottles and snacks like offerings to the gods of late-night hookups. You grab a bottle, the plastic cool against your palm. The water helps, but it doesn't quite wash away the taste of him.

Not that you're thinking about that. Nope. Not at all.

You take another sip of water, trying to convince yourself you're totally fine with how things went down.

(You're not.)

Because seriously—what kind of assassin doesn't carry protection? The absolute audacity of Jeon, walking around looking like that, with those hands and that mouth and those fucking bedroom eyes, and not being prepared?

Criminal. Actually criminal.

Not that you're thinking about his hands. Or his mouth. Or the way he'd worked you up so perfectly, taking you apart piece by piece until you were shaking.

You drain half the water bottle in one go, but it doesn't help. Your body's still humming with leftover want, still craving more than just grinding and kisses.

Because fuck—it was good, but you know it could've been better. Could've had him filling you up, stretching you open, making you see stars...

If only he had brought condoms with him.

"Fucking hell," you mutter, slightly crushing bottle. The plastic crackles satisfyingly in your grip.

You can't even properly be mad at him. Not when he'd made sure you came first, not when he'd been so attentive to every little sound and movement.

But still.

The fact that you'd been this close to getting properly railed by Chief Jeon, only to be cockblocked by his own lack of preparation?

Infuriating.

Your core throbs at the memory of his cock pressed against you, at how big he'd felt even through layers of fabric. God, the things he could've done to you if he'd just—

Fucking stupid sniper. The audacity of leaving you wanting more.

And oh, there will be a next time. You're getting that dick properly, even if you have to staple condoms to his fucking forehead.

Because someone who looks like that and kisses like that and uses his hands like that? Yeah. You're not done with him yet.

"Good morning."

JM's soft voice yanks you out of your definitely-not-horny thoughts. He looks adorably rumpled, all oversized sweater and messy salmon hair. His cheeks are pink from the cold morning air, making him look even softer than usual.

"Morning," you manage, grateful that your voice sounds normal.

He takes a sip from his own water bottle and you mirror him, mostly to have something to do with your hands.

"Sleep well?" You ask because it's polite, and also because talking about sleep is way better than thinking about what you were doing instead of sleeping last night.

His smile is warm and genuine. "Yeah, I did. And you?"

"Yeah." You nod, aiming for casual.

Like you didn't spend half the night grinding against Chief fucking Jeon. Like you're not still feeling the ghost of his hands on your skin.

Just a normal morning chat. Nothing to see here.

You give JM a quick wave and head back to your tent, trying not to look suspicious. Like you didn't just spend the night getting railed—well, almost railed by his coworker.

God, that's weird to think about.

When you peek inside, Yunjin's already stirring, one eye cracked open in the dim light.

"Y/N?" Her voice is thick with sleep.

"Yeah, it's me." You whisper back, watching her untangle herself from Eunchae, who's apparently decided Yunjin makes an excellent teddy bear.

It's kind of adorable, actually.

She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes. When she looks at you again, her brow furrows.

"You didn't sleep here?"

You open your mouth, ready to spill everything—about Jeon's hands and his mouth and how fucking good he'd been—but snap it shut. Not exactly tent-appropriate conversation.

"No."

Her eyes go wide, and she leans in close. "Did you sleep outside? In the freezing cold?"

"No, no, I didn't sleep—" You cut yourself off, suddenly very aware of all the sleeping bodies around you.

The tent walls might as well be tissue paper when it comes to privacy. A quick check outside confirms you're clear.

You duck back in, keeping your voice low. "We can't talk about this here."

You can see the exact moment sleep leaves Yunjin's eye, replaced by that familiar spark of gossip-hungry curiosity. Her lips curl into a grin that says she knows something juicy is coming.

"Okay, I'll be ready in 5." She's already reaching for her clothes, suddenly very awake.

You duck out of the tent to give her privacy, leaning against a nearby pine tree. The bark digs into your back through your clothes, but you welcome the discomfort. Keeps you from getting lost in memories of other things that were digging into you last night...

Nope. Not thinking about Jeon's hands. Or his mouth. Or the way he'd—

Fuck.

When Yunjin finally emerges, her pink hair is a mess and she's practically vibrating with curiosity. You tilt your head toward the edge of camp, where the trees grow thicker. Perfect for spilling secrets that definitely shouldn't reach certain ears.

You find a fallen log away from the other tents, tucked between snow-dusted pines. The wood is freezing through your pants, but whatever. Some things are worth a cold ass.

Yunjin plops down next to you, already leaning in close. She smells like campfire smoke and cotton candy.

"So, what's going on? You look like you've been through hell and back."

More like heaven and back, but you're not about to say that out loud.

You take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. The memory of his hands, his mouth, his everything makes your pulse skip.

"Jeon happened."

"Jeon?" Yunjin's eyebrows shoot up so fast they nearly disappear into her forehead. "As in, Mr. I'll-Kill-You-With-My-Thumb Jeon? That Jeon? What the hell did he do now?"

There's teasing in her voice but you catch the flash of concern in her eye.

Sweet, but unnecessary.

"He didn't do anything... wrong." God, your face is burning. "We were alone and things got... intense."

"Intense how?" She draws out the words, scoffing. "Did you two fight each other to death—?"

"It's not like that." You cut her off before she can get carried away. "I mean, we did fight at first but then—well—"

You gesture vaguely, like that explains everything.

"We didn't plan it. It just... happened."

"What happened?"

She crosses her arms, looking supremely unconvinced. Then, presses her lips together, biting back a smile.

"So what, you got stuck and stepbro came to your rescue—"

"Yunjin!" You slap a hand over her mouth, mortified.

Your skin's still tingling with phantom touches and she's out here making porn references? You drop your hand with a scowl that's only half-serious.

Looking anywhere but at her knowing grin, you mutter, "it was mutual."

The words come out barely above a whisper, like saying it too loud might summon him. Or worse—his ego.

Yunjin's smirk turns absolutely feral. "Oh my god, I knew there was something brewing between you two since the croissant thing. Come on, spill the dirty details."

You laugh, but your neck's getting hot just thinking about it. Leaning closer, you drop your voice even lower.

"Well, one minute we were fighting, and the next..."

You tell her about his hands, his mouth, the way he'd taken you apart piece by piece. How every touch had felt like lightning under your skin.

"He's like a fucking storm," you try to explain, but words feel inadequate.

How do you describe the tempest that is Jeon?

"And?" She's practically bouncing now, pink hair falling in her face as she leans in.

"And it was... intense. Like our bodies just clicked, you know? The way he touched me, the way he moved..."

"Holy shit." Yunjin lets out a low whistle. "Sounds like Chief Murder-Eyes knows how to fuck. I'm almost jealous."

You can't help but laugh, relief flooding through you at finally being able to talk about it. "I mean, we didn't actually—you know. No condoms. But still, with everything going on... with the gang and the rules..."

"Well, it's just fucking, right?" She cuts in, voice matter-of-fact. "You didn't break any rules."

Her words hit different, reassuring—exactly what you'd said to Jeon last night.

Right. No strings attached. Just two people scratching an itch.

"Yeah." You shrug, aiming for casual. "Just some good ol' fucking."

Yunjin's laugh is warm, understanding. "Well then, there's nothing to worry about. Just be careful. Jeon's not just any guy. From what I've heard, he's got layers, and not all of them are pretty."

You snort, rolling your eyes.

"Pffft, I know." You lean back. "I only have eyes for the pretty. And his dick."

That sets you both off cackling like teenagers sharing secrets behind the bleachers. It feels good to laugh about it, to make light of something that could've been way more complicated.

Yunjin stands, brushing pine needles off her pants. "Well, I gotta head back before they start sending out search parties for us. But we'll talk more about this later, yeah?"

"Yeah, later."

You're grateful she's not making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Just two adults having some mind-blowing- well, almost mind-blowing sex. No feelings, no drama.

She punches your shoulder playfully before heading back to camp, leaving you alone with memories of callouses on your skin and that fucking lip ring against your mouth.

Not that you're thinking about round two.

The early morning light bleeds through the tent, and for the first time—his eyes are not open to perceive it.

Jungkook stirs slowly, consciousness creeping in like the dawn. His hand reaches out, seeking the familiar cold touch of his phone screen.

Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Eight fucking hours without a single nightmare clawing at his mind. No cold sweats, no jolting awake with a scream lodged in his throat.

Just... peace.

His eyes drift to the empty space beside him, still holding a ghost of warmth where you had been. The indent in his pillow, the lingering scent of chai tea mixed with his pine—evidence that last night wasn't just a fevered dream.

Interesting.

The tactician in him can't help but analyze this development.

Eight hours of proper sleep, achieved simply by having another body next to his. The data suggests a correlation worth exploring. It's purely scientific interest, of course —nothing to do with how your quiet breathing had somehow matched his own, creating a rhythm that had lulled him into the deepest sleep he'd had in months.

His lips twitch, almost forming a smile.

Who would have thought that the solution to his insomnia would be so... straightforward?

Just add another warm body to the equation.

Simple.

Efficient.

The gang's best sniper, finally getting proper rest because of a quick hookup.

There's probably irony in there somewhere.

Jungkook stretches, feeling unusually light. His muscles are loose, relaxed in a way that has nothing to do with the previous night's activities.

Well, not entirely due to them.

Eight hours.

He could get used to this.

Jungkook sits up, letting the cool morning air hit his skin. Eight hours of actual sleep has him feeling... different. Not better, exactly. Just less like death warmed over.

He takes his time straightening his tent—a habit drilled into him and not voluntarily.

When he makes it outside, the camp is quiet except for the occasional bird call. His hands find his pockets as he heads toward the mess area, following the siren call of caffeine. The neat row of coffee cans almost makes up for sleeping on the ground.

Almost.

But then he sees V.

And just like that, his rare good mood evaporates.

Evaporates fast.

Jungkook's tongue clicks—automatic. His body already tightens before his mind even catches up. For a second, he considers turning back, caffeine be damned. But no. That'd hand the bastard a win, and Jeon doesn't hand out victories before breakfast.

V's lounging like he owns the clearing. Hair a tousled mess, skin flushed from either a fight or a fuck—Jeon doesn't care which. He just notes the details, stores them. It's habit. Just another target to assess.

The bastard tracks his approach with lazy, half-lidded eyes and that signature smirk—like he already knows he's about to ruin something.

Jungkook grabs a can off the table. Doesn't even look at V yet.

"Had fun last night?" The words come out dry, flat. No bite. Just noise.

V lifts his chin, amused. "Some of us don't need to buy intimacy with imported espresso machines."

Jungkook opens the can with a sharp hiss. Keeps his eyes on the label. "Didn't realize desperation was charming now."

"I call it efficiency." V stretches his arms overhead, exposing fresh marks on his throat. "In and out. Simple. No cleanup. You should try it—might loosen that iron rod you've got jammed up your spine."

Jungkook takes a slow sip of bitter coffee and finally looks at him. "You're bleeding self-worth all over the ground. Try wiping it up before someone slips."

V laughs, delighted. "There he is. I was starting to worry you'd gone full ghost. Thought maybe you finally snapped and joined the meditation club upstairs."

Jungkook doesn't answer. He's already turning away, walking slowly toward the edge of camp—toward the trees. Not far. Just enough distance to mute V's noise.

Of course, V follows. He always does.

"You know what your real problem is?" V's voice floats lazily behind him. "You think control's the same thing as peace."

Jungkook says nothing. Another sip. The coffee's still shit. V's steps crunch through the grass behind him. Closer now.

"But it's not. You're not calm, Jeon. You're just buried."

Jungkook stops. Just briefly. Looks up at the sky like it might offer patience.

V grins, eyes glittering. "Bet it gets lonely. All that quiet. All that nobility. Ever wonder why no one's lining up to warm your bed these days?"

Jungkook doesn't flinch. Just watches a bird take off from the trees. "Didn't realize we were counting bodies now. Thought you preferred keeping score in blood."

"Oh, I do," V murmurs, stepping beside him, too close. "But you—God, you used to have heat, you know that? Used to burn. Now it's all smoke and mirrors. All that rage shoved behind protocol and detachment."

Jungkook doesn't look at him, but his hand tightens around the can.

V keeps pushing, voice sweet as poison. "You used to laugh. Fuck, remember that? You'd stay up past curfew, cheat on drills, get into knife fights for fun. Now look at you—clockwork killer with a loyalty complex."

"You done?" Jungkook's voice is sharp now. Controlled, but edged.

"Not even close." V steps in front of him, cuts off the path. "See, I get it now. You stopped fucking because you can't do casual anymore. Too dangerous, right? Someone breathes near you and you start imagining futures."

Jungkook's jaw tightens.

V leans forward. "What was it RM said? 'Attachment makes you weak'? Or did you have to learn that one the hard way?"

"Careful," Jungkook says, low.

V just smiles. "I'm not touching your secrets, Jeon. Just pointing out the obvious. You're terrified of getting close again. You think if you fuck anyone, they'll catch feelings. Or worse—you will."

Jungkook doesn't blink. Doesn't speak. But the can in his hand dents slightly under his grip.

V notices. Of course he does.

"I mean, maybe that's why no one touches you anymore." He tilts his head, mock-thoughtful. "Not because you're intimidating. Not because you're better. But because they all see it—the grief in your bones. The guilt. Like it might rub off."

"You talk a lot for someone with nothing to say."

V grins, stepping aside, letting him pass. "And you say nothing hoping it makes you mysterious. But guess what, Jeon? I see right through that bullshit."

Jungkook exhales slowly through his nose. The air is cool, the trees just ahead. He keeps walking. He doesn't rise. Not yet.

But V's still behind him.

And he's not done.

Jungkook moves, calm steps through dew-soaked grass. The can in his hand hisses with pressure, dented from his grip, but he doesn't look back.

"You know what your problem is, Jeon?" V's voice cuts through the morning air, sing-song soft. "You're so far up your own ass you can't see what a joke you've become."

Jungkook doesn't bother with a glance. Just takes another sip of his shitty coffee. Tries to drown out the taste of chai from his tongue.

"The perfect soldier," V continues, pacing a few feet behind, voice louder now. "Marching in lockstep behind Commander like a good little ghost. You think if you bleed enough for RM, he'll forgive you for what you let slip through your fingers?"

Still no answer. Just another sip of that bitter, mass-produced garbage. Jungkook focuses on the taste—the chemical bitterness coating his tongue, sharp and synthetic. Easier to focus on that than the ache V's voice digs up.

"Nothing to say?" V's tone lifts, faux-curious. "Come on, where's that famous discipline now? Or did you leave it behind in your tent last night?"

The can pauses mid-sip. Barely a hitch. Just one second too long.

Jungkook lowers it slowly. "Your obsession with where I sleep is weird. Maybe try journaling."

V grins wide behind him, practically skipping to keep up now. "You're right. I should write this all down—'Jeon, once fierce and unfiltered, now drinks piss-coffee and pretends not to feel anything.' Bestseller."

"You done with the poetry?"

"Almost," V chirps. "Just wanted to make sure you knew everyone sees it. The way you're chasing scraps of forgiveness like a dog with its tail between its legs. You used to lead the escapades. Now you just brood and play pretend."

Jungkook stops walking.

V nearly collides with him, amused.

"Touch a nerve?" he murmurs.

Jungkook's head tilts slightly, eyes still forward. "You should work on new material. The old lines are starting to bore me."

V steps around him, circling like a vulture. "That's the thing about ghosts, Jeon. They're repetitive. They just haunt the same places. Same faces."

Jungkook's eyes shift. Cold. Level.

"You sound jealous."

V barks a laugh. It's short, sharp, too loud for the quiet trees.

"Of what? Your sad, monk-ass existence? Nah. I just miss the guy who could take a punch and throw three back."

"He grew up," Jungkook replies coolly. "Maybe you should try it."

"Nah," V says, too quickly. "That guy didn't grow up. He crawled into a cage and slammed the door shut."

Jungkook takes a step forward, chest brushing V's shoulder as he passes. "Or maybe he realized some things aren't worth fighting for anymore."

"Oh?" V pivots, stalking behind again. "Like loyalty? Brotherhood? Control?"

Jungkook doesn't turn. "Like noise."

V's smirk sharpens. "Funny you mention that. Because the silence after you let her die? That was deafening."

That stops him.

One step shy of the treeline.

Jungkook doesn't move, but something in the air shifts. Not loud. Not visible.

Just cold.

Real cold.

He sets the coffee can down on a mossy rock, slow and steady. Wipes his hand once on his thigh.

"You sure you want to go there?" he says, soft as snowfall.

V's smile flickers. Not with fear—he doesn't do fear—but with pleasure.

This is what he came for.

"I'm just saying," V hums, circling again, low and lazy. "You've been pretending for so long. Pretending she didn't matter. Pretending you're fine. Pretending you're not still clawing your way out of that night like it didn't gut you."

Jungkook says nothing.

But his silence means something now.

"I was there, Jeon," V says, inching closer. "You looked at me like I'd ripped out your heart and eaten it."

"You did," Jungkook murmurs. Still not looking at him.

"And yet," V's voice softens to a whisper, "you still didn't pull the trigger."

"Because you weren't worth it."

V snickers. "That's not what your eyes said."

Jungkook turns his head slowly. "No. That's what restraint looks like. Something you wouldn't recognize if it slit your throat."

V's lips curve, crooked and violent. "But you wanted to. You still want to."

Another long pause. Jungkook's jaw flexes once.

"Not as much as I want to forget you ever mattered."

And that—that hits.

V's grin falters. Just for a split second. The moment is small, but Jungkook catches it. He always catches everything.

Then, it changes again. V watches him like a cat watches a cornered bird. Head tilted. Smiling like he knows what's coming, and he's going to savor every second of it.

"You know what's funny," V says, voice maddeningly casual, "I always wondered if that was the problem."

Jungkook doesn't bite. Doesn't blink.

V goes on. "Not the rule-breaking. Not the secrecy. But who you broke the rule for."

Jungkook's gaze sharpens. Just a sliver. Just enough.

V catches it, of course. "Maybe if it had been someone else. Someone... less delicate. Maybe then, I'd have understood."

Jungkook's jaw shifts—tightens, releases.

"You picked soft," V continues. "You always hated soft. But that's what you chose. That's who you let in."

"Don't," Jungkook says quietly.

But V's already grinning, teeth and cruelty.

"God, what was her name again? It's been so long." He taps his chin mockingly. "Right there. Tip of my tongue."

Jungkook turns away. Starts walking.

He needs to get away from that sicko before he does something stupid.

"Don't go yet," V calls behind him, voice lilting like this is a game. "Help me out, will you? Dark hair? Big eyes? Always looked like she was about to break?"

Each step Jungkook takes feels heavier now. Like the gravity around him's been recalibrated.

"Jeon," V sings. "C'mon. Starts with an 'S,' right? S... Ssssss—shit, it's gonna bug me all day if you don't help."

Jungkook stops walking. Doesn't turn.

"V."

One word. Dead calm. A warning that sounds like the moment before a trigger snaps.

But V doesn't stop. He never does.

"Wait—don't tell me—Sarah? No. Sophie?" He's grinning now, wide and unhinged. "No no no, it was something sweeter than that, wasn't it? Something fragile."

Jungkook's whole body goes still. His shoulders square. Not aggressive. Not defensive.

Bracing.

"I won't tell you again."

"Oh, don't be like that." V's voice drops to a near-whisper. "We're just reminiscing."

"You say it," Jungkook murmurs, quiet enough that the wind almost eats it. "And this conversation takes a very different turn."

"Isn't that the fun part?" He replies.

Jungkook turns back to walk away. But before he can do just that, V opens his mouth again.

"No, wait, wait, wait! I remember it now."

V tilts his head, feigning thought, acting like he just got enlightened by the powers above.

Then—

"Sylvia."

The name detonates behind Jungkook's eyes.

He moves before he even registers it—before thought can catch up to instinct. One hand fisting V's collar, the other slamming him into the nearest tree with bone-rattling force.

His voice is low. Controlled. Deadly.

"I told you," he breathes, "to shut the fuck up."

V chokes out a laugh, even as Jeon's forearm presses against his throat. His smile is bloody, triumphant.

This is exactly what he wanted.

"There he is," V wheezes. "Knew you still remembered."

Jungkook tightens his grip.

"You don't get to tarnish her name with your mouth."

"Oh come on," V gasps, grin never faltering. "You're the one who made her matter."

Another inch and V's feet almost leave the ground. Jungkook's pulse is thunder in his ears. Vision tunneled, voice low.

"You don't touch her memory."

V's eyes shine with something unholy. "Why not? You left it out in the open."

Jungkook doesn't say anything. He just breathes—through his nose, slow, controlled—because if he doesn't, he'll crush the bastard's windpipe right here and now.

"You never even cried for her," V says, voice straining now. "Not once. I watched you. All that grief, and nothing came out but silence."

"Shut up."

"She begged for you, Jeon." V's voice slips into a mocking lilt. "Right before I pulled the trigger."

His hands go up, mimicking the movement of guns. Two fingers, cocked and pointed.

"Bang. Bang." V grins. "Guess some lessons need to be learned twice."

Jungkook's fist curls tight, shakes from the effort of not slamming it into V's face.

"She looked at you," V whispers, "and said thank you."

That's it.

Jungkook lets go of his throat—and punches him hard enough to split skin across V's jaw.

Bone cracks under knuckles. Blood spatters across bark. V staggers, but he's laughing—fucking laughing—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fucking finally" he slurs through red teeth. "Welcome back, Kooks."

Jungkook doesn't hesitate.

The second punch lands even harder than the first—knuckles slamming into cheekbone with enough force to whip V's head sideways.

Blood sprays from his mouth this time, a thick crimson arc that spatters across tree bark, across Jeon's hand, across the ground between them.

Still, V laughs.

It's breathless, giddy, delighted.

"Fuck, I missed this," he rasps, tongue darting out to taste the blood slicking his bottom lip. "So you're still human, huh?"

He licks it slow, like he's savoring it.

Like it's dessert.

Jungkook steps back just enough not to kill him.

"You don't get to call me that," he says, voice low and splintered. "Not anymore."

V blinks once, mock-innocent. Then that crooked smile curls back up, jagged and satisfied.

"Oh, right." He taps two fingers against his temple. "Because I'm not Taehyung to you anymore, huh? I'm V." His voice twists around the name like it's something sacred. "Your words, not mine. Or was it mine first? I forget."

Jungkook doesn't answer.

He can't.

Not when his pulse is pounding in his ears, his vision swimming at the edges with a red haze he hasn't let himself feel in months.

V steps closer, shoulders relaxed, body loose with that particular high only someone like him can ride. His lip's still bleeding, and he doesn't wipe it off this time—just lets it drip, red on his teeth, staining the corner of his mouth.

"God, you hit harder than I remember," he says, eyes gleaming. "Must be all that repressed emotion. You're like a soda can in the sun—shaking, sealed tight. One little crack and boom."

Jungkook doesn't say anything back. He's not looking at him anymore. He's looking through him. Past the trees. Somewhere far and unreachable.

But V keeps talking. Of course he does. Because once he has momentum, he's unstoppable.

"I always knew it was still in there," V's finger digs in his chest. "That spark. That fire. You've been playing dead so long I almost believed you were gone. Almost."

Jungkook's hands are fists again.

"You've been sleepwalking, Jeon," V continues, grinning like he's high on the taste of violence. "Dead-eyed. Robotic. Miserable. Just waiting for someone to fucking jolt you back awake."

He leans in close again. Too close.

"I'm just giving you a favor."

"You don't do favors."

V cackles, loud and wild. "Sure I do. You just don't like the way they taste."

Another pause. Jungkook's breathing is steady now, but it's forced. Every inhale pulled through clenched teeth.

"You think this brings me peace?"

"No," V says, licking blood off his thumb now. "I think it brings you clarity."

There's something predatory in the way he steps back, finally, giving Jungkook space—but not out of mercy, no.

It's rather just to admire the way he's held together by muscle memory and sheer willpower.

"You pretend you buried it," V says softly, quirking an eyebrow. "But it's still there. Under the skin. Under the guilt. Under all that self-hatred."

"You're wasting your breath," Jungkook replies.

But V just keeps smiling, lips slick, eyes blown wide with delight.

"You can't kill the part of you that liked it. The rage. The power. The need. You just locked it away in a box and lost the key."

V's voice drops now, low and rich and terrifyingly gentle.

"And I'm the only one who still knows where it's buried."

That's when Takama steps in.

No warning. No sound. Just a hand locking around Jeon's bicep before the next blow can fly.

"Enough," Takama says, firm and calm.

Not a command.

A lifeline.

Jungkook doesn't resist. Not yet. But his chest heaves, and the knuckles on his right hand are starting to swell. V leans lazily against the tree now, licking the blood of his lower lip that won't stop gushing out.

"Aw, don't stop now," he drawls, voice hoarse from the chokehold and the punches. "We were finally getting somewhere."

Takama doesn't even look at him.

His grip stays tight. Not painful. Just steady. Anchoring.

"Let it go," his second in command says under his breath.

Jungkook's eyes stay locked on V's face. Not with hatred. With control.

The kind that takes every ounce of strength to maintain.

"You should've stayed buried," he murmurs.

But V just laughs. Loud, unhinged, manic.

"And miss this reunion?" He wipes blood from his jaw with the back of his hand. "Never."

He steps back, licking the burgundy remnants from his fingers as he turns to walk away.

His voice floats over his shoulder like a final cut.

"Same time tomorrow?"

Jungkook doesn't answer.

He just watches him disappear into the trees, that thorned scent of roses lingering behind like a stain you can't scrub off.

Some poisons don't kill you right away.

They stay in your blood.

Rot you from the inside out.

Blood tastes like copper and victory.

It slicks across his tongue, drips warm from the split in his lip. He doesn't wipe it off. Why would he? It's a mark of success—Jeon's control fractured, broken open just enough for the truth to spill out.

The scream he didn't let out. The grief he still pretends doesn't exist.

Taehyung practically skips through the camp, boots crunching over frost-stiff grass. His knuckles sting from where Jeon deflected that second hit, but the ache feels earned. Like something sacred.

He exhales, slow and sweet, watching the vapor curl into the cold morning air.

That was better than sex.

No, scratch that.

That was sex.

Pushing Jeon to that edge—watching the cold, calculated sniper fucking explode in real time? That's the closest Taehyung ever gets to euphoria.

The high is still rushing through him as his tent comes into view. The buzz behind his teeth. The heat in his skull. He's not even pretending to slow down.

He lifts the flap with a flourish, practically singing, "Honey, I'm home," as he sweeps inside.

Jimin's already there. Cross-legged on the floor like some kind of aesthetic devotional painting. His salmon hair falls messily across his forehead, catching light like spun sugar. He doesn't startle—he never does—but his head tilts just slightly in that way Taehyung always notices.

"You're late," Jimin says, not looking up from whatever he's scribbling into that little black journal. "Let me guess. You pissed off Jeon again."

"Mmhmm," Taehyung hums, swaying into the room. "It was glorious."

He doesn't wait for an invitation. He never does. Two steps and he's folding himself into Jimin's lap like a lithe, bloody jungle cat.

Jimin grunts at the impact, but he doesn't move. Doesn't push him off.

He never does that either.

"You're bleeding," Jimin says quietly, brushing hair back from Taehyung's temple before his eyes drift down. "Lip's split."

"Little love tap," Taehyung breathes against the curve of Jimin's neck.

He nuzzles there a moment, deep inhale. Jimin smells like warmth. Like brown sugar and caramel and fabric softener.

Soft things. Domestic things.

He doesn't know why it makes his teeth itch, want to take a bite.

Jimin finally meets his gaze—and there it is.

That flash of worry in his eyes. That's the part Taehyung likes. Not the sympathy. The fact that it costs Jimin something every time he pretends this isn't poison.

"What did you say to him this time?"

Taehyung grins slow, letting his tongue drag over the blood at the corner of his mouth. "Just reminded him of something he didn't want to remember."

"Don't play stupid. This is getting out of hand." Jimin's hand brushes lightly against his jaw, tilting his face to examine the cut.

The pads of his fingers are warm. Careful. It makes something behind Taehyung's ribs twitch.

"Jeon's going to snap one of these days," Jimin adds, voice low.

"He already did," Taehyung whispers.

And he can't help it—he giggles. It bubbles out of him like champagne and gunfire, bright and wrong. He presses closer to Jimin, legs tangling, arms looping around his waist. The tension bleeds out of him slowly, replaced by that delicious hum of control reclaimed. He can still feel Jeon's rage in the fibers of his hoodie. It clings like perfume.

Jimin doesn't move. But his breathing changes. Shallow now.

"You're high on it again," Jimin murmurs.

Taehyung pretends to consider it. "Maybe."

"It's not healthy."

He shrugs, lashes fluttering as he leans in. "Neither are we."

Jimin sighs through his nose. Doesn't argue.

For a moment, they sit like that. Quiet.

Taehyung lets himself rest his head on Jimin's shoulder, lets the silence expand between them. This kind of stillness is rare. He doesn't know how to hold it without squeezing too tight.

Jimin's voice finally cuts through. "Let J-Hope look at it. That lip's going to get infected."

"For you?" Taehyung draws his thumb along the line of Jimin's jaw, soft and mocking. "Anything, love."

The way Jimin flinches is small. Almost imperceptible. But Taehyung feels it.

That's the thing about Jimin. He's not like the others. He doesn't play back. Doesn't bite or snarl or shoot. He just absorbs it all, like a sponge in a slow leak.

And Taehyung knows it's cruel—knows he's twisting something tender into something sharp—but he does it anyway.

Because this is what's left. This is what he has.

"You don't have to keep doing this," Jimin says, eyes on the floor now. "With him."

"Sure I do," Taehyung murmurs, already curling into his lap again, like a cat that doesn't want to answer. "The show must go on."

Jimin shakes his head once, slow. "You're always like this."

"Good things don't change."

There's no bite in it. No anger.

Just truth.

And then, before Jimin can speak again, Taehyung presses a finger to his lips. It's light. Thoughtless. Charged.

"No more lectures," he says. "Tell me something sweeter."

"Like what?"

Taehyung smiles, eyes gleaming. He leans in, close enough for Jimin to taste the blood on his breath.

"Tell me a secret."

Jimin's lips are warm beneath his finger. Too warm.

Taehyung holds it there a beat longer than necessary, just to feel the resistance—such a pretty little line of defiance, always broken down the same way.

Gently.

Repeatedly.

"Tell me a secret," he whispers again.

Jimin doesn't answer.

He doesn't have to.

Because his eyes do. The way they drop. The way his breath skips. The way his hands twitch against the floor like they're unsure whether to push away or pull Taehyung closer.

It's always like this. Hesitation that tastes like anticipation.

Taehyung leans in. Presses his mouth to Jimin's cheek, just shy of his lips, and breathes him in—caramel warmth, a little bit of sweat, and something almost shy beneath it.

He imagines for a second biting down. Hard. Leaving a mark. Branding softness with something it doesn't deserve.

Instead, he draws back and tugs Jimin forward.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Right into his lap.

Jimin doesn't resist. He never does. Just settles into the space Taehyung makes for him like he's made of silk and apology.

God, it's addicting.

"So obedient," Taehyung murmurs, mouth ghosting along the curve of Jimin's jaw. "You always melt so easily, Jiminie."

He feels Jimin's pulse jump under his hands.

Feels it in the way his thighs tighten just slightly, in the way his spine curves—not in retreat, no.

In submission.

Taehyung smiles. The kind that never touches his eyes.

This is the part that matters.

Not the tenderness. Not the connection. This.

The aftershock. The reward.

The thing that lets him bleed out the rest of Jeon's name from his teeth.

His hands roam lazily—up the curve of Jimin's back, slipping under the hem of his shirt just to feel the skin heat beneath his palms. He doesn't rush. He doesn't need to.

Jimin's already folding.

Taehyung tilts his head and brushes their lips together—barely. Just enough to taste breath.

Then he whispers, soft and cruel against Jimin's mouth, "Let me ruin you for a bit."

Jimin exhales shakily. Doesn't nod. Doesn't speak. Just presses closer.

Perfect.

And Taehyung?

Taehyung finally feels calm.

Not better.

But calm.

The high burns slower this way.

Controlled.

Directed.

And by the time Jimin's head tips back and Taehyung's fingers slide lower, he's already thinking of the next morning—when he'll do it all over again.

Because Jeon's fists can bruise skin.

But Jimin's silence?

It lets him feel powerful.

goal: 400 notes lmao I'm not doing this shit again in 24 HOURS.

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© jungkoode 2025

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[ravenclaw-for-all-seasons]

His Soft Spot (3) - Mattheo Riddle

The four of you were lounging in the Slytherin common room when the conversation turned to the upcoming Yule Ball. Theo and Enzo were discussing who they might ask when you casually sighed, stretching your arms over your head.

“Haven’t got a date yet,” you mused, your voice carrying a teasing lilt as you glanced at them.

There was a beat of silence before Mattheo turned to you, his brows furrowed. “What?”

You shrugged. “I said, I haven’t got a date yet.”

Mattheo’s frown deepened, looking genuinely confused. “What the hell do you mean you don’t have a date? You’re my girlfriend.”

You bit back a smirk. “Well, yeah,” you said smoothly, tilting your head at him. “But unless someone asks me, I don’t technically have a date, do I?”

Mattheo blinked at you, his mind clearly short-circuiting as he tried to process your words. “But… you’re going with me.”

You stood up, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips, your smirk widening when you pulled back. “Am I?” you whispered, before turning on your heel. “I’ll be in the library.”

With that, you walked off, leaving Mattheo sitting there, staring after you like you’d just spoken in Parseltongue.

“What the fuck just happened?” he muttered, completely lost.

Theo and Enzo exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.

“Oh, mate,” Theo said, shaking his head. “She wants you to ask her.”

Mattheo still looked confused. “But why? She knows she’s mine. Why do I need to ask?”

Enzo smirked. “Because she wants the grand gesture, obviously. She wants to be courted, you idiot.”

Realization finally dawned on Mattheo’s face, and then—almost instantly—his expression darkened with something entirely different. Possessiveness.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered, his jaw clenching. “If she thinks for even one second that someone else might try and take her—” He stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. “I need to make sure everyone knows she’s mine.”

Theo laughed. “And what exactly are you gonna do?”

Mattheo’s lips curled into a dark smirk, his eyes gleaming with something mischievous. “I’m gonna make sure she never forgets who she belongs to.”

And with that, he stalked off, already planning something that would make sure no one even thought about asking you to the Yule Ball.

That evening, Mattheo sat in the common room, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he plotted. Theo and Enzo lounged nearby, watching with amusement as he scribbled something on a piece of parchment, crumpled it up, and then started again.

“She really got to you, huh?” Theo smirked, tossing a chocolate frog in the air and catching it with his mouth.

Mattheo didn’t even look up. “She thinks she can walk around saying she doesn’t have a date?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Nah. She’s about to get the grandest fucking invitation Hogwarts has ever seen.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow. “Just so we’re clear, this is a Yule Ball invitation, not a marriage proposal, yeah?”

Mattheo shot him a glare before refocusing on his task. He wasn’t just going to ask you—no, he was going to make damn sure that no one in this entire castle would dare even think about asking you first.

The next morning, you were making your way to the Great Hall for breakfast, completely unaware of what was waiting for you. As soon as you stepped inside, the entire room went silent.

Your brows furrowed. “What the—?”

Then, you saw it.

At the center of the Great Hall, hovering in midair for everyone to see, was an enormous banner made of swirling green and silver smoke, charmed to hover like a Dark Mark in the sky. But instead of a skull and serpent, the words spelled out:

Y/N L/N—YOU’RE MINE. MEET ME AT THE CLOCK TOWER AFTER CLASS. WE HAVE A BALL TO ATTEND.

– M.R.

Your jaw dropped.

The hall erupted into whispers, students staring between you and the display. The Gryffindor table looked horrified, while the Slytherins were either smirking or looking vaguely impressed.

At the far end of the room, you spotted Mattheo at the Slytherin table, leaning back lazily in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, smirking like he had just declared victory in battle. Theo and Enzo sat beside him, shaking their heads, clearly so done with his antics but enjoying the show nonetheless.

You exhaled through your nose, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling. Of course he had to be dramatic about it. Of course he had to make sure everyone in the school knew who you belonged to.

With an exaggerated sigh, you shook your head and made your way over to him. The second you were close enough, Mattheo reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you effortlessly into his lap.

"See, princess?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now everyone knows you have a date."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through your chest. "Possessive much?"

Mattheo grinned, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your neck, not caring that half the school was watching. “Obsessive,” he corrected. “No one else was even allowed to think about asking you.”

Theo, shaking his head, muttered, “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

Enzo just laughed. “This is why no one else even tries to compete with him.”

You turned to look at Mattheo, raising an eyebrow. "You do realize I was always going with you, right?"

Mattheo smirked. "Yeah, but I had to make sure no one else got any ideas." His grip on your waist tightened. "You're mine, Y/N. Always." His expression softened slightly. “Besides, I know you wanted the gesture and if it’s important to you then it’s important to me.”

You sighed dramatically but leaned down and kissed him anyway. “Lucky for you,” you murmured against his lips, “I like when you get possessive.”

His smirk grew. “Oh, princess, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

[churipu]

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[mandalhoerian]

Xavier seems like the type of guy who doesn't like his person using toys or vibes because they're not *him*

Gets pouty and jealous if they're even mentioned.

continuation of this ask

You are so big brain, anon. It's so in character of him 😭🙏 is it healthy? no. his partner is allowed private time on their own, they don't owe him their pleasure.

But for the sake of fanfiction, picture this:

You mention, offhandedly, that you bought a toy. Just a passing remark, not even thinking about it. Maybe you were joking. Maybe you wanted to tease him. But Xavier, sitting across from you, rapid-blinks like he always does when you catch him off-guard before his face turns blank. Not cold, not angry. Just… blank.

Then he hums, a little soft sound in the back of his throat, like he's contemplating something so profound it has to be philosophical, or science-related.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you need that when you have me?"

No change in tone, no outward display of irritation — just that completely neutral, sky-blue stare and a perfectly level, soft voice that somehow makes it worse. Like he's genuinely baffled by the concept of you needing anything else. You're utterly unprepared for this talk and don't even think about having it in the first place, so your go-to response is laughing. And when you do, he doesn't let it go. Oh no, Xavier is the king of petty jealousy masked as cold indifference.

The toy starts to go missing.

At first, you think it's a coincidence. A case of forgetfulness. You’re sure you left it in the drawer, right where it always is (since Xavier feels a disturbance in the Force whenever you so much as breathe in its direction and things escalate each time), but when you reach for it — gone.

You tear through your bedside table, lifting books, checking between the sheets, even peeking under the bed, but there’s nothing. Maybe you misplaced it and don't even remember? It was collecting dust, after all. Maybe it fell behind something? But a full sweep of the room turns up nothing, and you’re left standing there, confused, mildly annoyed, and a little suspicious.

It happens again. And again.

Every time you try to find it, it's missing. And yet, mysteriously, whenever you’ve resigned yourself to its absence, it reappears — tucked into your pillowcase, resting perfectly in the middle of the bed as if placed there on purpose, or sitting in the drawer exactly where you swore you had checked before.

It’s eerie. Almost calculated.

And then, one evening, you try again to confirm. You check the drawer. Empty. You inhale sharply, patience hanging by a thread.

“Xavier.”

Silence. But you know he’s home.

You walk into the living room, arms crossed, and there he is, lounging against the couch, book in hand, looking up at you with that barely-there expression of vague curiosity. A little too casual. A little too composed.

You narrow your eyes. “Where is it?”

He blinks once, slow. “Where is what?”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch.

“You know what.” You plant a hand on your hip, glaring. “My toy keeps going missing.”

Xavier hums, like he's actually thinking about it. “That does sound inconvenient.”

The audacity.

You march over, leaning down to snatch the book from his hands, but before you can, he moves — fast —catching your wrist and pulling you down until you’re practically in his lap, his other hand resting warm and steady against your thigh.

“I suppose,” he muses, tilting his head, voice as light as ever, “you should take better care of your things.”

Your eyes flick fast between his, and you recognize that look. That feather-light amusement. That quiet, infuriating smugness.

“You took it,” you accuse.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He’s still holding you, fingers tracing absentminded circles against your wrist. “But if you’re missing something… maybe I can offer a replacement.”

His grip tightens deliberately. Just enough to make his point. Just enough to tell you that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And that he isn’t giving it back.

You glare at him, lips parted in an incredulous little gasp. “You—”

But he’s already tilting his head, studying you like you’re some puzzle he’s been waiting to take apart, layers peeling away with each breath. His fingers trace absent patterns along your thigh, as if he’s just idly thinking, and not actively playing with you instead of talking to you about it.

“You seem upset,” he comments, though it lacks any genuine concern. It’s all amusement, low and smooth.

“I am upset,” you shoot back, shifting in his hold, but he doesn’t let go, and worse — his grip tightens. Just enough to remind you that he’s stronger and is keeping you there for a reason. Does he want to have a conversation or else? Probably the latter. Even when he moves slow, there’s no escaping him. “Give it back, Xavier.”

He hums, running a thumb over the inside of your wrist. “What if I don’t?”

You inhale sharply, frustration bubbling over. “Then I’ll buy another one.”

His grip falters.

It’s subtle, but you feel it. A minute shift, his fingers pressing just a little tighter before his whole demeanor changes. You can see the realization flicker like a lightbulb.

He leans in — close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek.

“That,” he whisper-says, reverent, “would be a waste.”

Your stomach does something weird at the way he says it. Low, almost contemplative, like he’s already made a decision and you’re just catching up.

You blink. “A waste?”

Xavier tilts his head, and then — finally — gives the tiniest of innocent grins. It’s the first real expression he’s given you since this whole thing started, slow and sharp-edged, something just a little too pleased with itself.

“Show me.”

You can visualize the silence that follows being captured by an imaginary camera from multiple angles for comedic effect.

For a moment, you’re convinced you’ve misheard him. But no, he’s watching you, waiting, eyes gleaming with something new. Something curious. The amusement is still there, but now it’s layered with something deeper. A slow-building, simmering interest.

“What?” you breathe, blinking up at him.

“Show me,” he repeats, completely unaffected. Ears beginning to gather color. “Let me use it.”

A rush of heat floods through you so fast it nearly knocks you off balance. This is new territory.

Your lips part, and you stammer, “Excuse me?”

Xavier doesn’t blink. Doesn’t budge. Just watches you with that perfectly unreadable expression that only makes things worse.

"You seemed very invested in this thing," he says, brushing his knuckles up your arm like he’s still thinking it over. "So I want to know what makes it so special." A pause. Then, a tilt of his head. "What makes it better than me?"

There it is.

Your heart stutters, and for a long moment, you just stare at him, caught between mortification and something dangerously close to intrigue.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, trying to pull away, but his grip does not let up.

“And you’re stalling,” he counters easily. “Which tells me that you do want to.”

You make a noise — something in the back of your throat that isn’t quite a protest but isn’t quite acceptance either.

Xavier just waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until finally, with your face burning, you mutter, “Fine.”

His fingers flex around your wrist, and then, so very airily, he sighs,

“Good girl.”

And just like that — your toy is no longer missing. But now? It’s in his hands. And that might just be worse.

[tiredbogwitch]

Seeing as they clearly didn't know what the hell to do with Jinx/the political repercussions of her bombing the council in season 2, I'd like to explore the possibilities of how Zaun would've reacted to this that would've made way more sense than what we saw.

1. Jinx becomes an extremely controversial figure.

Few are neutral to her. This would be largely because, outside of knowing she blew up the council, no one actually knows WHY. What were her motives? Were they politically charged? Was she trying to start a war? What exactly was her goal? It was never really stated that she was infamous prior to this, but I recall in season 1 act 2 that when Vi went looking for her, people knew OF Jinx, and that she worked for Silco, but weren't really aware of any further details. So those that are aware of her connection to Silco- who objectively did make many of their lives worse with Shimmer- wouldn't be happy. They'd be scared of what will come next.

Those who don't know/don't care might fill in the blanks with their own guesses, maybe that she's some kind of activist- which would split them further into the subgroups of "Oh fuck the enforcers are gonna kill us and it's her fault" and "Finally, a war!" The second of which I'd argue would actually be a very small group. I could imagine the Jinxers being seen by the rest of Zaun as crazy radicals who don't know what they're getting themselves into/are gonna drag the rest of Zaun into danger. I think it would cause a LOT of infighting. Like a civil war inside another civil war.

How Jinx would handle this would be.... interesting. Especially if the Jinxers start making moves on their own. She never really shows much interest in activism- she works for Silco because he's her new dad, and while she doesn't seem to DISAGREE with his opinions, it doesn't seem she's all that invested in actually working to make it happen beyond just wanting to help her dad. His death seemed to take her interest with it.

Now, they could either lean into this, and make people question her motives/actions because of her clear disinterest, maybe increasing some of the controversy around her (no follow through on her action, letting Zaunites suffer the consequences, etc.), or they could make her actually take a genuine personal interest in it. But that, I think, would take a bigger arc that might be more work for arguably less payoff when considering you'd probably have to change a great deal of her character to do it, especially when you could probably achieve similar plot points/outcomes even without her intentionally becoming a political figurehead.

2. Zaun becomes fractured politically/other "symbols" of Zaun

This can be in tandem with idea 1, actually, but can still be it's own idea. Basically, after the fall of the council, and Silco's death, Zaunites are terrified. They've been run so far by Vander, Silco, and then some vague council-like oligarchy of Chem-Barons, who could be interpreted as functioning like very large gangs. The Chem-Barons have always been around, but with Silco's sudden death (and no one who was primed/expecting to replace him), this leaves a massive power vacuum that the Chem-Barons and smaller gangs are scrambling to come out on top of.

The fear of the unknown and the extreme instability would lead to people desperately throwing their lot in with whoever they think would be a better/less dangerous leader, and by extension, political symbol. Season 2 shows a bunch of new people joining the Firelights. In that case, I can imagine that before long, several new potential leaders surface, even if they didn't expect it. Namely, Ekko, Jinx, and Sevika.

Ekko because as I said, people were apparently coming to his base in droves. They don't tell us Jack shit about the Firelights besides the fact that A) Ekko leads them B) they don't fuck with Silco OR Piltover C) Piltover thinks they're terrorists and D) they look rad as fuck. That being said, considering Ekko's Everything, I think we can all gather a general picture of what the Firelights are about. Plus his cool tree would be a great symbol (@srslylini for the idea) of growth, healing, etc.

Sevika, because those that knew her as Silco's second might be hoping for some kind of stability with her. Even if they didn't like Silco, it's better the enemy you know and all that jazz. They'd feel safer with someone who at least seems to know what they're doing, even if Sevika herself has no interest in becoming a leader. I think some would just naturally gravitate towards who they see as "second in line". This could also be in connection to Jinx, as she could possibly been seen as someone who could "rein" Jinx in (again, most people don't actually KNOW Jinx, they just know OF her and that she worked for Silco and was volatile. Think how Finn referred to her as Silco's "attack dog").

Speaking of Jinx, she'd probably be treated similarly to idea 1. Extremely polarizing. Her followers would be seen as crazy, like she is. They'd be seen as warmongers and/or people who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They'd basically be seen as the stereotypical "young rebels". The average Zaunite would see the average Jinxer as a young, angry, maybe idealistic radical who doesn't understand the cost of war. I'd argue that, again, they'd probably be the smallest and most controversial group just because most people don't necessarily WANT a war, even if they're willing to fight for it. And the suddenness of the bombing would've scared even some of the rebels who DO want war, because they weren't prepared. It wasn't a PLANNED attack, so both Zaun AND Piltover are basically caught with their pants down, which would also bring some ire from the other Zaunites.

There's another option for a faction I'd like to explore, also thanks to srslylini (thank you icon), but it takes a bit of setting up.

In a hypothetical situation in which Vi did NOT become an enforcer, I think it would happen like this: Vi hangs around in Piltover at first out of guilt/feeling like she has nowhere else to go. She's still not on board with being an enforcer, but she attends the memorial out of a sense of obligation. Her and Caitlyn have a falling out over Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", and here is where she storms off and goes back to Zaun, with the final words to Caitlyn that "You Pilties are all the fucking same" (or something to that effect). She's still feeling lost, and so maybe this is where she stumbles around, having maybe a similar pitfighting arc (just not as distraught, more like she's broke and angry and has to pay rent somehow so she might as well get paid to punch someone's face in). Because she's not in a massive spiral, there's unfortunately no emo arc (sad), but the bright side of this is that she's recognizable. I don't think she's FAMOUS, per say, but Babette and Ekko recognized her right off the bat in season 1 (yes you can say Ekko was really close to her, but Babette? C'mon), and considering she was older than Powder when she went off to prison, I don't think it's a stretch to assume her face was a little better-known than her sister's (especially considering she was already going on jobs, and in act 1 she gets into a fight with Deckard who I'm pretty sure knew her name, but not Powder's).

This is to say, I think a lot of the "old heads" knew who she was, especially those who liked Vander. It helps that she tattooed her name on her face LMAO. So I'd imagine she'd show up in the ring, no hair dye no makeup, and eventually after consistently knocking her opponents around and winning every time, she'd become a bit locally famous again- to the point that those same "old heads" who remember her make the connection and come looking. Maybe rumors start swirling, especially once they learn she was gone because she'd been in prison- not unheard of, and probably the first conclusion they drew when they realized she wasn't dead.

So eventually Vander's old followers/younger people who idolized him from their childhood start seeking her out. Sensationalizing her. Asking her what she's planning on doing. Is she taking back the Lanes? Will she get those Chem-Barons under control? What about Jinx? Could she hunt her down, rein her in? Hell, maybe even put her to use? Will you give us our relative safety, our security back?

And Vi, who just wanted to knock some heads around and maybe take a nap in her apartment and cry, is suddenly faced with being "Vander 2.0" and Jinx is the new "Silco 2.0" and all the weight of expectations and legacy and history and literal war and politics are being shoved in her face. She, like Jinx, is now faced with becoming a figurehead when she never wanted to be, which could lead into option 3:

3. A joint approach to Zaun

This would primarily be driven by Sevika even if she wasn't one of the possible leaders, because SOMEONE has to be the responsible adult here and it's certainly not any of these traumatized losers (affectionate). She'd be the glue to keep it all together, the reluctant team mom who WILL make this work because she WILL have Zaun even if she has to die to get it.

This could work with either Jinx and Vi, or Jinx, Vi, and Ekko (I genuinely can't imagine season 2 act 1 Ekko willingly teaming up with season 2 act 1 Jinx AND Sevika without some kind of buffer). Basically, once the other "leader candidates"/political symbols have been established, Sevika would round them up with the intention to use their influence to unite Zaun against Piltover. This would take a LOT of arguing, but ultimately I think she'd be able to get them to shut up and hear her out for a moment. Regardless of how different their beliefs are about what the "ideal Zaun" looks like, they can all agree that Piltover isn't in any of those pictures. She could convince them to set aside their own squabbling for the time being, for the greater good: aka, the independence of Zaun.

At the very least, I think she'd be able to get them to agree that Piltover coming down and hurting Zaunites in revenge shouldn't be ignored, and that they're currently a bigger threat than their fellow Zaunite. So eventually they'd reach some kind of truce: behave like a united front against Piltover, push them out of Zaun, stabilize Zaun, and then worry about tearing each other apart later. And because all of these characters- ALL of them- have shown (prior to season 2) anti-Piltover sentiments, they'd at least be able to agree that enforcers shouldn't be allowed to beat down on their people (especially in this version where Vi has better, more consistent writing lmao).

Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, so maybe they don't reach a total agreement immediately- maybe they just agree to a ceasefire at first, but still refuse to work together. But once Caitlyn becomes a dictator? Once enforcers start gassing the streets, rounding people up, implementing martial law?

That's when the gloves would come off.

I'd imagine this could also be part of how Vi and Jinx slowly start to repair their relationship. They've got bigger fish to fry, but also, this time their enemy is connected to their own personal conflict with each other. Jinx might ask, "what happened to your enforcer girl? What happened to being a Piltie lapdog?" And Vi would essentially, in perhaps more emotionally constipated words, explain that it wasn't really about Caitlyn, it was about being needed. It was about trying to find Jinx, about trying to stop Silco, about trying to "fix" things, only realize that she couldn't. It was about trying to make things better, but that she realized the person she was trying to do that with didn't actually care. That all she wanted was to make sense of the destruction of her old life, and find meaning in a new one. And I think Jinx, too, in her own emotional constipation, would resonate with that, would understand that. It wouldn't fix things between them, but I think it'd be a start.

It could also help their relationship with Ekko. Since Vi isn't an enforcer this time, and season 1 (the One True Season) showed their sibling relationship, I think her and Ekko's bonding would be more like "reconnecting with an old friend", whereas Jinx and Ekko would have a lot of work to do, too. There'd probably be a bit of a cold war between them for a while, once Ekko agrees to help, because he knows actually talking to her would piss him off. But eventually, through Sevika's manhandling of these three, and being forced to make nice with reluctant-figurehead-Jinx, they'd connect again.

Perhaps part of a plan is for them to develop new technology for Zaun. Whether that's weapons against Piltover (unlikely on Ekko's part I think), or just safety gear/ safer city infrastructure ideas for the betterment of their people, I think eventually they'd figure themselves out, too. He'd see the Powder in her, the part he saw on that bridge, and maybe it would give him the ability to try and understand Jinx. And Jinx would realize that maybe these people in her life DO love her, DO care about her, more than just for what she used to be but for who she is now. And somewhere along the way, they'd be friends again (or they can date IDK or care man I just want them to stop trying to kill each other).

Whatever happens next is so wide in possibility that I can't possibly cover it here so this is where it ends, lol.

[enhaflixer]

super villain from temu (villain & violent, infant & innocent)

Villain!Sunghoon x Hero!reader

(Crack, fluff)

wc: less than 1000 words

synopsis: He became a villain by accident. You became a hero by chance. Now, you're both stuck in a never-ending game of tag—except he's definitely losing (and somehow still flirting)

AN: hi guys!!! please let me know what u think in the comments i would really really appreciate it! leave as many requests as you would like!

Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You weren’t exactly sure when Park Sunghoon became your biggest problem, but here you were, once again, staring him down in the middle of the city, exasperated beyond belief. The night air was crisp, the moon hanging overhead, casting silver light across the rooftop where you stood. It would’ve been almost picturesque—if not for the dork in the villain cape standing in front of you.

“You’re late,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, his cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. “I had this whole villain monologue prepared, but now I’m just standing here like an idiot.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Sunghoon, do you ever stop talking?”

“No. And as your sworn enemy, you should appreciate my dedication.”

You had long since stopped taking him seriously. Not because he wasn’t capable of mass destruction—no, the problem was that he was way too awkward to be genuinely evil. Like last week, when he tried to steal a hotdog cart as a distraction but ended up tripping over a ketchup bottle and getting mustard all over himself. Or the time he tried to hijack a news broadcast, only to accidentally press the weather channel button instead.

And yet, despite all his antics, Sunghoon still insisted he was your archnemesis. It was kind of… cute.

“I assume you’re here to fight,” you sighed, stretching your arms as you got into a battle stance. “Let’s get this over with.”

Sunghoon’s expression flickered for a moment—was that hesitation? He shifted on his feet, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. Fight. That’s what we’re doing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Unless you have something else planned?”

“No,” he blurted out way too fast. Then he coughed, trying to look serious again. “I mean—yes. I have the perfect plan.” He lifted his hand dramatically, but nothing happened.

A long silence stretched between you. Sunghoon lowered his arm slightly, glancing at you. “Uh. I forgot what it was.”

You groaned. “Oh my god.”

“Wait, wait, I have a backup plan!” He rummaged through his pockets before pulling out a small remote. “Now behold, HERO!” He pressed the button, and suddenly—a metal cage clunked down from above, trapping you inside.

You blinked. “What the hell?”

“Jokes on you! I stole your dog! Now I have the upper hand, HERO!” Sunghoon cackled, arms crossed triumphantly.

Except. One tiny issue.

“I don’t… have a dog.”

Sunghoon’s face froze. “Wait. Then whose dog did I steal?”

A distant barking sound echoed from the side of the rooftop, followed by the furious stomping of an angry old lady.

“THAT’S MY DOG, YOU IDIOT!” she screeched, waving a cane in the air.

Sunghoon turned just in time to see the old woman whack him over the head. “oh shit.” He yelped, immediately bolting away as she chased him down the stairs. You stood there, watching the scene unfold, trapped in the ridiculous cage, contemplating your life choices.

After chasing Sunghoon down, knocking him out, and handing him over to the authorities (who, at this point, were getting tired of his antics), you sat beside his holding cell, sipping your drink.

Sunghoon, now sitting on the bench inside his cell, stared at the ceiling, pouting.

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered. “I am a disgrace to villains everywhere.”

You leaned back against the wall, shooting him a lazy smile. “At least you’re entertaining.”

He exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face before finally looking at you. “You know… this whole villain thing?” He gestured vaguely at his surroundings. “It kinda started as a joke.”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon let out a dry laugh. “Back in college, you just… became a hero. It wasn’t even some big, dramatic thing. You helped someone, people started calling you one, and suddenly it stuck. It was effortless for you.” He hesitated. “And I… I wanted to get your attention.”

Your breath caught slightly. “Wait, so you—?”

“I thought if I became a hero too, we could fight together,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe you’d finally notice me. But I guess I botched it, because people didn’t call me a hero. They called me a villain. And instead of correcting them, I just… rolled with it. It was kind of… fun?”

Your heart twisted. “So this whole time—”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not exactly how I pictured my life going, but hey, at least I get to annoy you for a living.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. A real, genuine laugh. Sunghoon’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he grinned, his usual smugness returning. “See? I can still make you smile, even from jail.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you stood up. “Well… you’ve definitely got my attention now.”

Sunghoon blinked, then smirked. “Oh? So you admit it? You can’t resist me?”

You leaned down slightly, close enough that he sucked in a sharp breath. “I think you just like being chased by me.”

Sunghoon’s grin stretched wider as he leaned back against the wall, looking far too smug for someone in a holding cell. "Ohhh, you want me so bad. Just admit it, Y/N."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you. Maybe you did. Just a little.

[kunareads]

living dead

satoru x reader

satoru thinks this is hilarious, you think he’s sleeping on the couch tonight.

masterlist

wc: 1.1k

this actually happened to me (i hate horror movies and would rather eat a jean jacket than sit through one)

content: boyfriend!satoru, fluff :) no smut! satoru being a little shit

you hate horror movies.

like, really hate them.

just the thought of anything gory, creepy, or suspenseful is enough to send you running in the other direction.

so when satoru casually suggests a movie night, sprawled on your couch with one hand scrolling through his phone and the other tossing candy into his mouth, you're more than happy to agree. you assume it's the usual: some rom-com or mindless action flick, where he spends half the time whispering absurd commentary in your ear or pretending to cry during the sad parts.

you don't ask what the movie is because you trust him. you should have known better.

the two of you arrive at the theater, satoru grinning like he's the one starring in the movie. he hands over the tickets with that infectious smile, nudges you toward the concession stand for your usual order, and is practically bouncing on his heels as he drags you to your seats.

"you're gonna love this one," he says, settling into the seat next to you with a big, self-satisfied grin.

"you always say that," you tease, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth as he tears into his box of candy. "what's it about?"

"you know," he says vaguely, waving a hand. "some cool stuff. action, suspense, maybe a little drama."

the lights dim, and the trailers roll. you're not worried until about twenty minutes in.

dark woods. eerie silence. and then a scream so blood-curdling it nearly sends your popcorn flying. your heart sinks as you realize exactly what you're in for.

"satoru," you whisper, your voice panicked. "what is this?"

he glances at you, confused, then turns to the screen. it only takes a second for the realization to hit. "oh." he blinks. "uh… maybe a horror movie?"

"maybe?!" you grab his arm like it's the only thing tethering you to reality.

"you know i hate horror!"

his eyes widen, genuine guilt washing over his face. "babe, i swear, i didn't know! the poster looked cool! i thought it was, like, a thriller—"

"thriller is horror!"

he winces, ducking his head sheepishly. "okay, that's on me. but, uh… do you want to leave?"

you glance around the packed theater, already imagining the judgmental stares you'd get if you tried to shuffle out now. you swallow hard, your fingers still digging into his arm. "no, it's fine. i'll... i'll get through it."

"are you sure?" he asks, leaning closer, his voice soft. "we really don't have to stay."

you shake your head, gripping the armrest on your other side like it's a lifeline. "i'll survive. i don't want to waste the tickets."

he looks like he wants to argue but ultimately nods. "okay, but if it gets too much, just say the word, and we're out of here."

you regret your decision almost immediately. every scene feels like a new assault on your nerves—creaking doors, flickering lights, shadowy figures lurking just out of focus. you flinch at every scare, your heart racing as you clutch satoru.

and satoru? oh, he's having the time of his life. he winces during the gory parts, sure, but he's invested, his eyes glued to the screen. every now and then, he glances at you, his lips twitching with barely contained amusement as you peek through your fingers.

"you okay?" he whispers during a quieter moment, his voice laced with faux concern. you barely resist the urge to pinch him.

"no," you hiss back, shooting him a glare. "but don't let me ruin your fun or anything."

he grins, shameless. "you're doing great. just think of it like—"

"satoru, please shut up."

as the movie drags on, you find yourself swinging between terror and frustration. there are moments when you think you might actually cry, especially during the tense silences when you know something awful is about to happen. he barely flinches as you dig your nails into his arm, letting you cling to him like he's your lifeline.

"this part's not so bad," he whispers after another jump scare, his voice soft enough that no one around you notices. "see? no one's even on the screen right now."

you glare at him, your heart still racing. "that's when they always get you. something's about to pop out. i can feel it."

"nah, i don't think so," he says, leaning closer like he's sharing a secret. "you've got at least ten seconds before—"

a grotesque creature lunges at the camera, and you shriek, burying your face in his chest.

he winces, trying to stifle a laugh. "okay, you were right. my bad."

by the time the credits roll, you feel like you've aged ten years. your palms are sweaty, your heart is still pounding, and you're already planning to triple-check the locks when you get home.

"you were such a trooper," satoru says, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you shuffle out of the theater. "i'm so proud of you."

"don't," you mutter, shooting him a withering glare. "seriously, don't."

but he doesn't stop there. oh no. on the way back to your apartment, he reenacts scenes from the movie. he's sneaking up behind you, making creepy noises, and whispering, "don't turn around…" in the most ominous voice he can muster.

"you're so sleeping on the couch tonight," you grumble, fumbling for your keys with more force than necessary.

"what?!" he gasps, clutching his chest like you've wounded him. "babe, i was basically your emotional support animal!"

"you're the one who got us into this mess!"

"okay, fair." he's grinning again, apparently unbothered by your threats. "but if you get too scared in the middle of the night, you know where to find me."

you roll your eyes, but later, when every shadow in your room feels just a little too dark and every creak in the apartment makes your skin crawl, you find yourself padding out to the couch, blanket in hand.

satoru's already sprawled out, one arm tucked under his head as he scrolls through his phone. he looks up when he hears you and smirks. "couldn't stay away, huh?"

"shut up," you mutter, climbing on top of him and burying your face in his chest.

he wraps an arm around you without hesitation, his other hand still lazily holding his phone as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "don't worry," he murmurs, his voice soft. "i'll protect you. promise."

and despite the lingering fear, you can't help but relax, his warmth and steady heartbeat lulling you into safety. maybe horror movies aren't so bad when he's around.

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

okay i have THOUGHTS about this line

he didn’t have to say that to make his plan work. i mean yeah, being nice to the player definitely earns their favor and future assistance, but he could have just as easily gone the route of gaslighting them into feeling bad and like they caused the problem, eliciting a more shame-based and desperate and less uplifting and righteous kind of reliance. like if volo really hated the player, and was truly cruel, that’s what he would have done. the player would have still gotten the chain and felt indebted to him for the plate hunt, but they also would be miserable and feel lonely and hurt and confused. but volo doesn’t do that, he grounds the player and validates their feelings, which were hurt by the cruel townspeople more than the event volo caused to prompt that cruelty. like truly, it’s only volo’s fault that the player gets banished through the most like simple calculated logic—yes, if he hadn’t caused the rift, they wouldn’t have been banished, or brought here at all. but kamado CHOSE to banish them based on his own paranoia and disdain for outsiders, and the others enabled it by choice. volo didn’t make that happen, just how he didn’t make or even want arceus to get the player involved in the first place.

i don’t think volo hates the player, personally, at all. or at least, i think that he hates them and cares for them just as much as he hates and cares for himself. i know this isn’t groundbreaking volo theorizing material, but he’s absolutely projecting his disdain for society based on his vague past experiences here. he dislikes the outsider because his plan demands it, but he dislikes everyone else because he personally thinks they’re terrible. it’s kinda neat how he “fake” compliments the player’s loyalty to him as a merchant so often, bc i think loyalty is something he actually takes very seriously. and he probably saw how loyal the player was to the galaxy team, and then the way they kicked them out, and was genuinely pissed and hurt on the player’s behalf.

the things he says at the end of the game are said in extreme distress and defeat, and while they are not NOT reflective of his character and motives, i’m shocked by how many pokemon fans regard volo like he’s a nihilistic and amoral sociopath. passion and compassion are behind nearly everything volo does, for better or for worse. they’re behind moments like this, and moments like his ranting at spear pillar. he is a person who constantly grapples to align his personal moral code and lofty ideals, which live in this weird space between the manmade and divine, with the flawed reality of existence. his entire mentality is full of contradictions, because he is a man who thinks he should be god, but in reality could never be a good god, because he is still very much a man. it’s the emotion, idealism, and intellectual curiosity of humanity that drive him, not the impartiality, absolutism, and complacency of an omnipotent all-knowing deity.

so like, with this line. he specifically mentions that the galaxy team has treated the player poorly. not that the galaxy team’s choice was illogical, not that the player just needs to try harder to get them to accept him. he is emphatically rejecting the premise that the player did anything to deserve blame, even though he has no intention to actually explain why this really happened or volunteer himself to take the blame. because ultimately, volo is not the person to blame for the galaxy team’s cruelty, and he knows it. and he also knows that it’s the cruelty that has hurt the player, more than the sky problem itself, because he has been treated like an outsider too. and he can’t DO anything about that. even if he told the truth, the damage has already been done. the player knows how their supposed allies would react in this situation, regardless of the logic or truth. and volo can’t fix that. he does not believe he can make people kinder or the world a better place, which is exactly why he wants so badly to remake it. for himself, bc clearly he’s been through some shit too, for people like the outsider, and for anyone else whose loyalty and dedication have been met with rejection and apathy. which is so deeply tragic and ironic, because by being the only person to care for the player in this moment, he is making the world a better place for them.

volo is, at his core, a hypocrite. he’s like if you put the ingredients for a hero into a blender, but accidentally used the “tragic hypocrite” setting so he came out a janky villain instead. to volo, concepts like loyalty and self-righteousness are driving forces, much moreso than simple black and white morality or consequentialism. this makes him a hypocrite because he believes a perfect world is possible as long as his moral code is strictly followed, and his evil plan is to prove it. but in his efforts to do so, he proves over and over again that a perfect world isn’t possible, and certainly would not be possible under his control.

like, okay—if someone suggested that the means of pain and suffering in the world justified the ends (the world), volo would disagree and claim that arceus is responsible for the pain and suffering, and therefore does not deserve the power to create/rule worlds. but then, following that very same logic, if volo needed to get a random person banished and betrayed in order to create his better world, then those means wouldn’t justify his ends either. which is WHY we see him subconsciously draw a line here, between the things he’s not responsible for (other people being cruel, arceus transporting the player) and the things he is directly responsible for (the way he treats the player in these circumstances, either with derision or support). and wouldn’t you know, in this instance where it truly is up to him what the means are to his ends, he chooses kindness where he could have been cruel. because while arceus sending the hero and the town banishing them weren’t really Volo’s means to Volo’s ends, this conversation sure as hell could be. And he doesn’t want his better world built on a foundation of suffering and pain.

by saying this one line and treating the player as he does here, i think volo accidentally exposes something deeply true and good about himself. this man could say “i’m a villain and i don’t care about the player” and fully believe it, but at the same time demonstrably possess the morals and compassion of a hero, which he uses to actively care for the player. he is a delusional hypocrite, but he’s definitely not heartless. and i just think that’s neat.

alternatively, volo is completely heartless, knows that people are endeared to people who want to protect them, and methodically uses that knowledge here for his convenience. that very well could have been the intention, and it makes sense too—but i personally enjoy entertaining the notion of depth where i see potential for it. so yeah.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Pocky game w/ various HH characters part 2/3

Idk if it's because I'm kind of.. bluugh.. but I'm craving eggs on toast rn but I cant tell if its because I actually want it or because my body is aware it's a comfort/easy/struggle food idk how body/mental stuff works

Characters: lucifer, adam, lute, emily, velvette, rosie

Notes: reader is gn, bonus hcs of what flavors i think the characters would like except the admin has one tried the og and C&C

CWs: none

LUCIFER

knows about the game vaguely, has never played it but hes very open to it if you offer and the two of you are already an item

though he will reject you if you two arent, even if hes already crushing on you. he DOES want to do it but i do think hes a little wary about anything like that that can lead to anything romantic or otherwise due to him still eating up his feelings over lilith

total sweet tooth just like his daughter, can see him being an almond crunch enjoyer!

when he does agree he does his best to make sure you get just as much of the pocky as him, very careful when kissing you because hes hyperaware of his teeth and the sound of them crunching and totally breaking the pocky has him a little on edge

but asides from that he has a lot of fun with it! too... "shy"(?) to ask to do it again, though

shy is likely not the right word... he wants to do it again but he doesnt want to make you feel obligated and hes still a little weird about asking for affection from you due to other feelings

ADAM

does not know the game but hes on board if you offer it up and explain what it is

not very picky about flavors but i can see him enjoying the original a lot more over the others!

total tease through the whole thing, will try to fully lean into a kiss if you let him

like other characters will probably just give you a short light hearted peck, but adam is very likely to give you something a little more if you let him

god forbid if you get some chocolate or crumbs on your face because he WILL do something

loves it if you get all red and flustered

LUTE

she doesnt really like sweets, but she is open to trying it with you if the two of you are already dating. very unlikely for her to agree if you two arent

does NOT know what to expect so you might have to explain what the game is so she knows what shes agreeing to

very competitive, tears through her half and probably dives into your half before you can realize whats going on

kind of crashes into your mouth a bit because shes so into it, doesnt mean to be so rough with you

pulls away very fast when she realizes what she just did, do not tease her about it because she will think youre genuinely criticizing her

can see her being a cookies n creme enjoyer if she were to ever crave the treat

EMILY

knows what the game is and loooooooves it! she thinks its sweet! pun intended!

agrees instantly if you offer it up, but shes likely to ask to play the game with you if she ever gets her hands on a box of pocky!

very giddy, keeps accidentally breaking the stick because shes just so into it, you guys have to keep starting over

quick little peck at the and and she feels so proud of herself for getting a little kiss from you- dont expect much else, though, the second the kiss happens shes pulling back and letting her energy out.. shes more controlled if you two are well into your relationship

cookies n creme enjoyer but i can see her liking matcha!

VELVETTE

hands down she is a crunchy strawberry enjoyer im sorry i dont make the rules. i think she might the cookies n creme flavor as well!

knows exactly what the game is, she spends a lot of time on the internet monitoring trends that shes seen it

not at all shy about it either, she knows what shes getting into and shes not going to let herself look like some flustered wreck- doesnt matter if you two are dating yet or not, shes going to stride in with pride

will tease you if you get embarrassed, bonus if youre the one who even suggested the game- she does this even if youre dating. actually shes more likely to do it if youre dating

similar to vaggie in the previous part, shes not going to go too fast so she doesnt look too eager... actually i can see her take her time just to toy with you

ROSIE

she may be a cannibal but i can see her having a bit of a sweet tooth! she just doesnt indulge in... actual proper sweets all that much!

not aware of the game but is open after you explain it to her, shes not easy to fluster so shes going to be very composed and collected during the game

if youre the opposite though, its going to encourage her to take the lead

quick and polite kiss, makes sure not to let her teeth cut you up... theres a time and a place for that but this is not the time OR place!

lets you have the rest of the box if you'd like, though she doesnt deny any extra pieces you give to her

teases you for getting so flustered over a game you suggested, but she doesnt mean any harm behind it

strawberry enjoyer but i can see her liking the matcha and the almond crunch

[mythalism]

the ambiguity of solas's ending actually really does piss me off so bad. like i dont know why they think they were cooking by being vague about where exactly he ends up and whether or not he is trapped or able to leave, especially if your own player character ends up there with him, whether thats rook or lavellan. the imagery in the epilogue slides and implication in the "atoning for the blight" ending is clear but only if you're well versed in lore that veilguard does not really explore, and thats only for the atonement endings where he leaves to heal the blight willingly. where does he end up in the other endings? where did the rift behind him lead to? is it just the fade? do all the rifts lead to the black city even if he doesnt intentionally leave to go heal the blight??? if so why??? the rift opened naturally, solas didnt open it. is it just luck that it leads to exactly where we need hin to be?????? does rook even know where it leads???? do they even think before shoving him into it?????? does it even matter if he has the fucking dagger anyway????? if so whats the point of any of it??????????? WHAT THE FUCK???????

if that was just the game's refusal to employ it's own vocabulary that would be one thing, because its a larger issue in the game overall. the black city/golden city is not mentioned to my knowledge, though perhaps it is in codex entries, and so to use that terminology in the end would be confusing to the incompetent and stupid "new players" the game was written for who apparently cannot be trusted to absorb worldbuilding information on their own. but the fact that several people have asked for clarification from the devs and we have gotten more ambiguous, unsatisfying answers or straight up refusals to elaborate is so ridiculous to me. why? spoilers? for the game you are never actually going to get to make? even if it was a spoiler who fucking cares? an ending that leaves you unsatisfied because you are CONFUSED is not a well-written one. when i first finished i genuinely felt PANICKED because it was over and i didnt understand how it ended. i felt so desperate to know where exactly they were. the way the ending feels completely different if they are in the black city versus the regret prison is HUGE. those are two completely different endings. whether or not he has agency and is able to leave makes a HUGE difference in the overall messaging of his character. it makes a HUGE impact on lavellan's willingness to join him. i guarantee that like half of the people who hate the solavellan ending and were really upset by it would have felt far better about it if it was just explained where the fuck they were. like what is the point. how does it serve the narrative for the audience to leave the epilogue unsure of what just happened? and the worst part is that, while i am a full 99.9% sure that they are in the black city rather than regret jail, because thats where the blight is and thats the visual imagery used in the epilogue slides, that 0.1% uncertainty exists not because i just dont know the lore well enough or didnt understand the ending, but because i no longer have faith in bioware to stick to their own writing.

i know that it only makes sense for solas to be in the black city if his goal is healing the blight, but what if epler decides he wants solas to be in the regret prison instead being psychologically tortured because he thinks hes annoying and deserves it? what if some other dev who has a bone to pick with bald guys gets hired and pushes for it really hard in meetings for 5 years? will what they established for the ending actually matter, then? or will they do a complete 180 from what was set up and retcon the ending? and i get it- they have always done this on some level. corypheus returning after da2 to be inquisition's antagonist, for example, though i'd counter that argument with there being clear foreshadowing that he body hopped so that seed was indeed planted. or killing flemeth with morrigan in origins only to find out in da2 that she gave her soul to hawke just in time to survive. but these things have an internal consistency with the world-building that i have lost faith in the writers to continue. corypheus survives because he uses blight body hopping, an established ability that we already knew archdemons had, then elaborated on when he returns in inquisition. flemeth is an ancient unknowable legendary swamp witch who is suggested to be playing 4d mind chess with the characters even before you know about her own body-snatching, so finding out she was able to cheat death like that isn't unfounded or far fetched. but veilguard so gleefully tramples over its own world's rules and established stories, whether its stupid small mechanical gripes like rook wading through "blight pools" and exploding "blight cysts" all over themselves with no explanation meanwhile we know that felix alexius died of blight from just coming into contact with hurlock blood when attacked, and that ferelden mabari biting darkspawn was a death sentence for them unless they could be cured with a rare herb. or larger things, like.... idk. solas's characterization, motivations, and massive network of agents and supporters. or slavery existing in tevinter. or the existence of the titan's heart orbs that each evanuris has? or um. RED LYRIUM. and so much more.

i think thats why the vagueness of this game bothers me in a way it did not previously. granted, i do not think inquisition is NEARLY as vague with its lore reveals and character epilogues. its actually very straight forward and explains everything sufficiently. theres more of an argument for da2 being very vague. but previously, i would have trusted that it would be taken care of in a way that made sense, or at least was internally consistent with the world. i have completely lost that faith. instead, after playing the rest of veilguard and seeing how little respect the game has for it's own world and story and characters, the ambiguity of solas's ending is nothing but anxiety-inducing and unsatisfying. i cant even clearly analyze his character arc if i dont truly know the implications of the ending. and on top of that, what reason do i have to believe the writers will respect their own writing going forward?

[biancasaidstfu]

I know you won’t post this because it goes against your narrative, but I hope you do.

It’s time for a serious conversation about what’s happening in this fandom. The people who genuinely believe Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton are together—known as “Lukola”—need to take a closer look at the history of fandoms like the Larry Shippers. These were fans who convinced themselves that Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were secretly in a relationship, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. If you dive into the Larry conspiracies, babygate, and how fans clung to fabricated narratives, you’ll see the same patterns playing out here. It wasn’t healthy then, and it isn’t healthy now. The result? Harry and Louis haven’t been seen together in years. Larry wasn’t real, Freddie is, and that fandom destroyed what was once a visible friendship.

The same thing is happening with Nicola and Luke.

Let’s be honest: Nicola has been very loud without explicitly saying who she’s in a relationship with. And yet, if you’ve been paying attention, it’s obvious—she’s with JD, not Luke. She’s been putting that information out there through actions, pictures, and subtle hints. But instead of acknowledging the truth, some fans go to great lengths to ignore what’s right in front of them. You tell yourselves, “She’s just friends with JD,” “That doesn’t mean anything,” or even “JD is gay; his friends call him princess.” Meanwhile, you cling to tiny crumbs—brief moments with Luke that you inflate into something bigger. At this point, it’s not wishful thinking; it’s willful denial.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: Nicola isn’t blameless in all this. She’s not the perfect, untouchable person you’ve made her out to be. She knows exactly what she’s doing. By staying vague, she lets fans run wild with their fantasies while carefully dropping just enough hints about her real relationship to maintain plausible deniability. This is gaslighting. She’s playing both sides, benefiting from the attention and adoration of fans who want her with Luke while still being public enough about her relationship with JD to avoid outright lying. This isn’t just frustrating—it’s damaging, both to the fandom and to the relationships you claim to support.

Look at what happened with Harry and Louis. The obsessive shipping culture made it impossible for people to appreciate their friendship for what it was. Fans pushed so hard that now they’re hardly ever seen together. The same thing could happen here. The more you push Nicola and Luke as a couple, the harder it will be to just enjoy their friendship—or anything they might share publicly in the future.

At some point, you have to ask yourselves: Why are you okay with this? Why are you settling for crumbs? Why inflate a ring or a fleeting moment into an entire narrative? And if Nicola were posting pictures with Luke or being photographed with him more often, would that be the confirmation you’re desperate for? What happens when Nicola gets engaged—or has a child? (She’s closer to 40 now; watch it happen.) Are you still going to cling to these crumbs and invent excuses to deny the obvious?

This fandom is starting to mirror an unhealthy, even abusive dynamic. You’re holding onto a fantasy while ignoring the reality Nicola is presenting. It’s time to step back and see this for what it is. Living in a world of denial isn’t good for you—or for the people you claim to support. Stop settling for crumbs. Stop ignoring the truth. Start expecting better—for yourselves, and for this fandom.

To be clear, I don't NOT post asks that go against my narrative but a lot of asks I get like this are half-assed uncooked, unseasoned chicken compared to a well planned out post like this.

But I absolutely disagree with everything you're saying.

It also depends on how YOU are personally perceiving the fandom and fandom spaces like this. It's likely this kind of speculation makes YOU personally uncomfortable, and if that's the case anon, maybe YOU shouldn't be going on to shipper's pages and dropping your opinion to let us know how bothered YOU are by these things.

If you really want to look at harmful behavior, let's talk about the Jakola shipper that showed up to the theatre in NYC and followed Nic and Jake down the street to get proof of their "relationship".

THAT is dangerous.

People like me on the internet, speculating about these things aren't harming anyone. We're talking and theorizing amongst ourselves in a relatively quiet part of the internet. We're not showing up at locations to prove their together.

We're not actively following these people around London or visiting their apartment buildings or homes to prove we're right.

I think you thought you ate with this ask, anon, but you just showed your ass to everyone on this platform.

It's people like YOU coming on to pages like this, calling us delusional or telling us we're in denial because we're looking deeper beyond what tabloid gossip rag are shoving at us. We don't look at you and point the finger for anything because we don't care what you think about us.

YOU can believe the Daily Mail all you want. I chose to look at what Nicola has been doing this entire time.

Move along now.

[circus-clangen]

asking a bunch of cool clangen blogs (yea you) a question cause I’m working on making one right now- How did you find the main plot based on what clangen generated and make it all mysterious and interesting and stuff?

OHH this is so tricky because SO much of the main lore I’ve interpreted from clangen events hasn’t happened yet, and I can’t spoil it…. How about a very vague one: rng gave me a cat in the future that looked VERY similar to an existing cat I had, with a kit that looked VERY similar to a kit that same existing cat also had. Now I admit that the “Oooh secret family member!” Is probably the most common and least mysterious way you can interpret clangen lore, and I myself have had to tone down my own use of it, but that’s just one example!

I’ve also had cats die of non-murder causes, but given circumstances and relationships with another cat, I choose to interpret it as a murder.

My two big pieces of advice for you are this:

1. As you’re making your plot, write down EVERY little thing that happens. Im even talking the randomly generated character statuses that change every time you reload the game. You don’t have to USE everything and in fact you shouldn’t, but sometimes two correlating minor details are all you need to get a good idea going.

2. Clangen isn’t going to magically make you a wonderful storyteller, and your readers aren’t always going to be captivated. When making a mysterious dramatic plot, know that you’ll get better over time. I look back at my old moons and cringe SO hard, because I just didn’t know what I was doing. And don’t get discouraged if your readers dont seem interested in your mysterious plot or don’t notice all of your foreshadowing details! A good mystery cannot be super intense 24/7, or it’s exhausting. If you want a good mystery, take it slow, and trust that it’ll be more rewarding for the people who really care to stumble across your little details months later, than it would be to compromise and water down the storyline.

You’ve got this! It won’t be easy, and writing mystery is in my opinion the hardest thing you CAN write, but just do what you can and what you love and you’ll do just fine!

GENUINELY both work very well for him. Any accent that’s aggressively and nauseatingly city boy American, that’s how he talks

Anon to be so fr I changed it recently but for MONTHS that’s exactly what it was. Gold star 🌟

Aww weird… that’s crazy… it’s a good thing there wasn’t any kind of supernatural occurrence going on the exact instant Tigertoe found out she was pregnant because man that’d be awkward

*checks toaster over strapped to wrist* hm

U right anon

🫲👀🫱

You guys are not ready for the video essay I’m going to make in like 2 years when Circusclan is completely finished. I have a bottle of wine I’m saving

THIS GUY GETS IT!!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I completely understand and even encourage the Ringstar haters—he’s not a saint—but THISSSS is how I see my boy… he never wanted any of this to happen, and yet it’s his own fault it all did.

Of course—of COURSE he had to let his baby girl live, even though it meant she couldn’t never be anything more than an insect to him for the rest of his life.

Did Goldmasks deal extend to Starclan? Will he even make it to starclan? Something in him knows that surely he cannot… yet something else dreams that maybe his soul and the devoured part of his heart waits for him there. One day, maybe, he’ll peer down through the clouds and once again feel love for his one and only daughter.

[rasenko-tsudzu]

On Limits

CW for serious discussion! This isn't a teasy post, sorry! I'm still talking about hypnosis stuff, so keep that in mind!

I don't know what exactly prompted me to say this, but:

Any limits you have are entirely valid and nobody can take them away from you.

People fantasise about having their inhibitions taken away. And that's fine! You can fantasise about whatever you want! And as long as you and anyone else involved is ok with it, you can make that fantasy as close to reality as you want! But! There is a difference between "I want to be seduced/hypnotised/convinced/'forced' to break this inhibition" and someone genuinely breaking a limit.

Sometimes it's an accident, and that's ok! Misunderstandings happen, and most people get that. However! This is usually very easy to avoid! Check people's limits before you do things with them! But even that alone isn't the whole story. Sometimes, people just don't feel like things right now, or change their minds, and that's ok too! You can totally like something a lot one day and not find it appealing the next, that's a part of experimentation and the way we develop as people!

Hypnosis is fun for a lot of us precisely because of how open and malleable it makes us. It's fun to be helpless like that! But the reason we can afford that vulnerability is because of a fundamental level of trust. If someone breaks that trust, you don't owe them anything. Your mind is an important thing! It can be fun to pretend it isn't, but it is!

You might run into a situation where someone asks you to do something you aren't sure you want to do. You feel good, because you're hypnotised and you like that, but don't let that feeling good make you do things you ABSOLUTELY DO NOT WANT TO. This is especially for those who are new to this! Some people are, unfortunately, cruel and exploitative, and will try to use that good feeling in ways that are genuinely immoral. Here are some red flags to watch out for:

Someone who tries to put you into a trance whenever you disagree with them on liking something. I don't mean in the bratty way where you actually really want to give in but put up a resistant front, I mean in the genuinely "I'm going to change your mind regardless of how you feel" way as if they can bypass your desires entirely.

Someone who complains about how restrictive your limits are or says you're a bad person or a prude or anything like that because you won't try things you aren't comfortable with.

Someone who you don't know at all who thinks hypnotic triggers are like a magical spell they can use to do whatever they want to you or that one glance at something vaguely hypnotic will make you so mindless you'll ignore how creepy they are.

This may seem obvious, but it's sometimes hard to think clearly if you're entranced and blissful and overlook how manipulative some people are being.

Also, always remember that you can take things back! Consent only lasts as long as you want it to! You don't need to justify yourself. You can decide what you like and what you don't, and change it as your feelings change or situation changes, and a respectful partner will understand and accept it. You can have different limits for different people, or be largely open and have very specific limits even if they're uncommon ones, and that's fine. You don't have to let people call you things you don't like, even if it's just a gut reaction. You don't have to let people sexualise you in one way even if you enjoy it when they do another way.

Anyone who tries to tell you that your limits aren't important, or are dumb, or contradictory, or hypocritical, or anything like that shouldn't be listened to or trusted. It's all right to be confused by someone's limits and try to better understand them. It's ok to find that someone's limits aren't compatible with your wants. But never, ever let tell someone tell you that your limits don't matter.