#Nothing wrong with it! On the contrary it's good that it's direct in what it's doing! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

newfallstrangeleaves · 1 year ago

Text

Masked Yandere with an unknown identity

Magic bullet

M!Yander X F!Reader Warning: Druging reader, non-con, NSFW, P in V, Oral (F receiving), slight somnophilia. Summary: Its the winner of this poll. The man with the mask gets you a drug that makes you unable to move your body but you can still feel everything he does to you. Authors note: It really took some time to get it up :( sorry

If this were any other occasion, this would not be happening. He would check your apartment to make sure nothing was wrong or that no one other than himself where within your proximity. But word spread of a drug, something even he caught on to and now can't stop himself from getting his hands on.

That this is the right alley is only a guess. The directions were unclear and he had spent nearly three nights just wandering to hopefully run into the right people. But it's been hard having to choose between anonymity and direction. The mask is a good protection, but it’s also a deterrent. It doesn't matter who you are and where you are from, everyone agrees that if you meet something that frightens you, you turn and walk the other way.

But tonight the hard work bears fruit. At the far end of the alley stands three men, they are tense and seem to be waiting for him. When he approaches they act cool, buffing their chests out and blowing cigarette smoke his way.

“Heard you looking for something.” One of them says.

“Yeah, you have it?”

“Whoa, boy calm down, why you in a hurry? Are you scared or something?” If this is an intimation tactic it's not working. On the contrary, he is feeling rather bothered.

“Yes, actually I am. I have the money, you got the stuff or not?”

“Here.” One of the guys with a pretty nasty black eye holds up a bag with white powder in it. Its snapped out of his hand before he even had time to react.

“HEY!”

“So this is the stuff?” He holds the bag away from the guy with the black eye.

“Yes, You know, we will be nice to you today and let this pass, but if you grab stuff like that again-”

“Do you want the money or not?”

“Hand it over.”

He brings out a hefty amount of bundled-up money. He holds it between the two of them for a second before he throws it to the side and lands right into a puddle.

“Go, take it. I thought you wanted it.” The man glares at him, but it's hard to do with only one eye.

“Your dead, you know that.” But before anyone has time to react, with a swift motion he tackles the guy with the black eye to the ground. His moans in pain are enough to make the other two back off.

With the drugs secured, he is off to your apartment.

Your apartment has never been too difficult to get into. With the copy of your key back in his pocket, he heads for the bedroom. Just to see you. Despite it not being long between the meetings, things still tend to feel lonely.

Coming home to an empty apartment, cooking and winding off for the day all in solitude. And even now, caressing your sleeping face he wishes for things to be different. To have you and to have you as his very own.

But today the drugs will have to do. He can already feel his cock hardening at the thought of being inside you. Eagerly he heads for the kitchen. He tries to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake you as he pours you a glass of your favorite juice. He contemplates for a second before he decides that half of it will do.

With the spiked drink in hand, he gently strokes your face, this time with the full intention of waking you.

“Hey, wake up darling, I just need you for a second.” He can't contain himself for chuckling at your confused face, how cute you look when you're startled. “I just need you to drink this.”

“What? What is it?” He helps you to a sitting position before he, as gently and firmly as he can, grabs your jaw to keep your face in place. He knew before going into this that you would never agree to drink his concoction.

You struggle at first, your hands trying to grab at anything to get the glass away. But you're losing the battle and as you fight to not choke on the liquid, you drink most of it. Some spills down on your clothes and comforter but it's nothing that you will be using anyway.

You cough and gasp for air as he places the glass calmly on the table.

“What was that??” You're panicking, he can tell.

“Shhh, it's okay, you know I will never do anything to harm you. I tell you this all the time.” He wraps his arms around you and lays you back down on the bed. His arms and legs pinning you in place. You are opposing and pleas to let go go unheard, he just hushes you and strokes your hair to calm you, it doesn't take long for the drugs to kick in. All of a sudden your arms lose their strength and fall flat to the side. Your eyes are the last thing that shuts but when they do he can't contain himself anymore.

“I know you can still hear me so don't be scared. Now, I'm sorry I drugged you, it will wear off eventually, until then if figured we could have some special time together. Try something new.” His words get more and more breathy with every word. Arousal is getting the better of him.

The first thing that comes off is his mask, how he has been aching to feel his lips against yours. He is smiling into the kiss, his breath fanning your face. Though your lips don't give his anything in return just the feeling of you is enough, for now. Then it's the gloves that fall to the floor. He doesn't want to leave one speck of your skin untouched by his lips and his hands when this night is over.

He gives your lips one quick peck before he travels down. His lips glaze over your neck, and he trails a few kisses over your collarbones. He is too eager to stop just there, he wants what's further down. Gently he lifts the oversized shirt you're sporting as night clothes, over your head.

He goes straight for one of your breasts. His tongue goes over and around your nipple, sucking and biting gently. He gives one side a few minutes before he switches. When he deems them done he turns his attention to the only piece of clothing still covering you. With a quick motion, it's thrown to the side and you're back to how he loves you. Bare before him.

“I promise you, my love. I will make you feel so good. So good, so so good.” He pushes your legs apart taking in the scene before him, your beauty is astounding. “You don't understand how much I've looked forward to tasting you.”

His tongue works away eagerly at your core. He starts at the clit, working you up, wetness already leaking out of you and he laps it up. He adds a finger, you're still rather tight but with every movement and every lick, you're relaxing.

Then when he goes back to focusing on your clit and with a second finger inside you he hears it. A tiny whine escapes your lips. It spurs him on so much that he thinks for a moment he might be pushed over to climax over it. Almost.

But he is determined to push you over yours first and he does. Your breath hitches as you squeeze around his fingers. Oh, how he looks forward to you doing that to his cock. As you settle back down he can feel his cock aching in his pants. Without a moment of hesitation, he throws off everything.

“I feel so exposed.” He says and chuckles. “Even though you can't see me.” He lines his body up with yours, his cock hard and throbbing in between the two of you. But he holds back, instead, he kisses you.

“I don't know why I'm hesitating now. I guess it's because I kind of wanted…More, if that makes sense.” He sighs. “But it's really your own fault. I would have never done this to you if you'd just accepted me, and allowed me to be with you fully, I wouldn't have taken such drastic measures. …But let's not worry about that now.”

His forehead meets yours as he looks down. He lines his cock up to your entrance. He pushes in slowly to not overwhelm you, but it's still tight. He groans and a moan slips your lips.

“Maybe I've been too secretive, holding my identity intact and away from you for fear of rejection. Though I know you never would reject me, even if you wanted to. Because we both know you love this.” He pushes slowly in, bottoming out as he speaks. “Youre..Fuck…Feels so good.”

His trusts are slow at first. He is using every fiber within him not to either rail you right into the mattress or to cum right this second. But it doesn't take long for him to amp up the pace. The wet sounds from where the two of you connect and the whines that constantly leave your lips. It could be the drugs starting to wear off, but he doesn't miss the way your eyebrows twitch together and that your moans come more frequently now.

But he is too into it to care now, too in the moment to care about whether the drugs are wearing off or not. He feels you tightening around him and miraculously he pulls through your orgasm, keeping his own intact.

“I want another…Please…Give me another one.” He mumbles into your ear, sweat dripping down his brow. He continues until he feels you tightening up once again, this time his release comes before yours. The way your pussy squeezes around him a second time makes him lose it. But despite feeling spent he fights through your high with sloppy thrusts. The overstimulation feels like a reward.

He pulls out just to drop down on your chest, resting his head between your breasts. He lays there and listens to your steady heartbeat for just a moment. Then he worms his arms around you and rolls over on his back with you on top.

“I want to clean you today.” He whispers into the top of your head. “You know, really take care of you now after I've had my fun.”

He looks over the bed, the bedding having been thrown on the floor and he sighs. Feeling contempt with you in his arms, this is where you belong, where you always should be.

“Maybe that could wait a moment or two.” But just as he says that he can see your fingers moving slowly. You are getting the control over your body back and with that pops the bubble he wanted to stay a little longer in. “Or not.”

He gently lifts you off him and goes to get his belongings together. He gives you a quick clean and a peck to your lips before he is out the door just in time for you to slowly sit up and open your eyes.

#male yandere #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere noncon #noncon drugging #tw drugging

2K notes · View notes

empress-simps · 8 months ago

Text

Heart Chaser

Pairing: James Potter x Reader CW: Grumpy reader, James getting injured, and Language. Genre: Fluff Summary: James tries to woo you over many times before, with what he does best- being a showoff and with a promise of a hogsmeade date if they win the quidditch tournament

Note: James is a certified simp. This is a self-indulgent one shot, enjoy reading!

James was stupid- it goes without saying. Stupidly in love with you, who wants nothing to do with him. He always greets you with his charming smile, you greet him back with a scowl or a sneer just for him.

He was like a stubborn gum stuck in the bottom of your shoes that you have a hard time getting rid of.

“Is he hit in the head? Why is he doing fucking flips when he could make our house win?” You scowl, arms folding over your chest as he whizzes near you, sending a wink your way. The other girls around you squealed, thinking it was for them as giggles and whispers surrounded you. If anything, you were quite the contrary. If you could puke, you probably would’ve already done it by now.

“Hm, Black is quite a good player. Quite better than their stupid captain who just knows how to show off.” You commented on seeing Sirius Black swinging his bat to hit the incoming bludger that was aimed at James, effectively protecting the chaser. Her friends, Mary and Marlene looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Fancy dating a beater rather than a chaser, huh?”

Marlene teased while Mary chuckled, trying not to show her amusement to the annoyed you. “Right, so if I compliment a boy on his quidditch skills that means I’m madly in love with him? Great.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you redirected your attention to the game.

“Oh come on, we were just teasing you, Y/n!” Mary pokes your side playfully, “I should’ve just let the sorting hat put me in Slytherin, that way I wouldn’t have to deal with you both.”

“Oh sod off, Y/n. You were pissing your pants in fear in front of older Slytherin students in our first year.” Marlene snickers, dodging your attempts to get to her as Mary tries to block you from actually hitting her.

“Why you little- “

“…And the Gryffindor team wins!”

Cheers erupted from your side as you widened your eyes in surprise. There he was, James Potter got off his broom as Sirius started to carry him on his shoulders, their teammates surrounding them. James met your eyes and smiled (quite stupidly in your opinion) sending a wink your way which made a sour look appear on your face. What a showoff.

“C’mon, game’s over. I don’t want to see Pothead’s face more than what’s necessary.” You grabbed them both and left the quidditch pitch. Marlene protested at first, but then immediately tried to persuade you into joining the common room party that night.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You waved her off, wanting Marlene to shut up and forget what you said. Oh, how wrong you were.

Which placed you in your current position, Marlene and Mary basically dragged you to the common room where you saw people drunk, dancing, or snogging. “Stay here, Y/n!” We’ll be back!” Marlene giggled, as she and Mary went off to Merlin-knows-where. You felt stupid and out of place, so you just stuck to the side and watched the scenes in front of you unfold.

“Didn’t think you were the type to attend parties like this.” A chuckle was heard, looking in the direction of the voice, you saw Remus, leaning against the wall much like what you are doing. You let out a scoff, “Marlene and Mary left to go snog some random people,” He lets out a laugh, “I figured. Would you like some butterbeer?” He offers, you shake your head politely. “It’s alright, I do love some firewhisky.” You joked, his eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise as Sirius neared you both, seemingly heard your conversation.

“You’re quite surprising, Y/n! No wonder you got Prongs wrapped around your finger.” Sirius had his famous grin plastered on his face, handing you a shot of Olgden’s Old firewhisky. Your eyebrows narrowed suspiciously at Sirius, who urged you to take it. Just where did he even get that and how did he manage to sneak it in?

“What’s life without a little risk?”

“Don’t even think about giving that to her, Padfoot.”

Like a knight in shining armor, James seemed to pop out of nowhere, getting in between you and Sirius, giving his best friend a disapproving look. Sirius grins sheepishly, raising one arm up in mock surrender, “Alright, Prongsie. Sorry dove! Next time, alright?” Sirius looked at you, winking and running off to somewhere before James could whack him. Remus follows Sirius closely behind to ensure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.

“Thanks, Potter.” You practically forced yourself to utter those words to the boy who had a quite lovestruck look on his face.

“Anything for you, Y/n.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough. Goodbye, congratulations on your win.” You sneered, trying to ignore the blush creeping in your cheeks at the obviously lovestruck James, who seemed to snap out of his trance. “H-hold on!” He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you.

“If we win the next game, let’s go to Hogsmeade.”

Alright, you weren’t expecting that. You stilled, trying to fight the stupid butterflies that started to appear in your tummy. What is happening to you? Did you find James attractive suddenly? This needs to be stopped, at least you hope it will.

“No- “

“Y/n, please! I won’t even pass notes to you anymore in class just to get us both in detention!” He pleads, you must admit that he looks quite cute. Raising an eyebrow, you tried to fight off the amused smirk threatening to make its way on your lips. “So, you’re admitting that you did that so we can spend detention together?” You should’ve whacked him upside the head and be annoyed but strangely, you find it, dare you say- adorable.

James scratched the back of his neck, he was caught. “Erm… So, is that a yes?” You clicked your tongue, “Win the game first then we’ll talk.”

“It seems like the Gryffindor’s Captain is in high spirits today!”

You hear the commentator’s voice rang throughout the cheering crowd. Crossing your arms, you observed James, his demeanor is quite different from last time. He’s more serious than ever, barely even showing off or sending a quick your way when he flies close next to you. It was a huge difference, not that you were bummed out about it (which you secretly are.)

Marlene snickered, noticing your reaction. “Why the long face? Potter not paying attention to you?”

“Sod off, Marlene.” You grumbled, shoving her lightly making her laugh. “Hey! So it’s true! Mary, Potter managed to woo our Y/n- “ You glared at her, a hint of blush dusting your cheek. “I can only tolerate so much, Marls.”

The banter was cut short when you heard gasps and the commentator’s alarmed voice was heard. “It appears that James Potter was knocked off his broom by Ravenclaw’s beater, and he’s falling quite fast! Someone get Madame Pomfrey!”

You paled, mouth turning dry as your eyes searched frantically at the enormous quidditch pitch, feeling your stomach drop as you saw James freefall to the ground quickly. “No…” Luckily, someone managed to make his fall to the ground a bit less dangerous by turning the ground into a putty-like texture. Biting your lip nervously, you wince as James landed with a loud thud.

He wheezed, lying on the ground, and holding his arm that was probably broken. “Merlin, that actually hurts.” He looks around, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. Out of all the places he could have fallen in, it just simply had to be in front of where you sat. James can already hear you rejecting him taking you out this Saturday.

Rushing to the Hospital Wing, you opened the doors with a loud thud, not caring if you disturbed other patients as you made a beeline to James who was talking with the rest of Marauders.

“You dumb oaf! How could you possibly lose balance in your own broom?!” You furrowed you eyebrows as you saw James visibly wince, feeling ashamed, he looked down at his arm cast. Mary places a hand on your shoulder as Marlene casts an apologetic look towards the boys.

“How will I say yes to your stupid little Hogsmeade date if you’re injured?” You ‘tsked’, crossing your arms in front of your chest, ignoring everyone’s surprised reaction. Sirius whistled, already slapping James on the back as Remus widened his eyes, Peter had his mouth open in shock and your friends stared at you in surprise, looking like you just grew another head.

James quickly looked up at you, eyes beaming with happiness as a dopey smile made its way on his face. “You… you agree?” He bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. You raised your eyebrows, a small amused smile settling on your face. “I don’t know you’re that daft, but yes. I’ll go on a date with you Potter.”

Everyone around you cheered quietly as Madame Pomfrey sent a warning glare to your group. James grins, leaning in your direction as he looks at you. “Brilliant.” His voice is a soft murmur, only meant for you. Madame Pomfrey’s glare dissolves into a knowing smile as she turns away, giving you both a moment of privacy.

James had a way of capturing people’s hearts by just being himself, he even managed to capture yours- and he doesn’t even think about letting it go.

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james x reader #prongs x reader #marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders era #harry potter #marauders fic #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs

686 notes · View notes

apoloadonisandnarcissus · 28 days ago

Text

Of Lust and Sex on Tolkien lore: Sauron x Galadriel in “Rings of Power”

Many fellow fans have complaint there’s a trend among the Tolkien fandom to de-sexualize Galadriel, but folks, this is not exclusive to her character. This is, actually, an on-going theme on how many see Tolkien’s world and work, in general, and it runs deeps.

There’s this weird headcanon that, just because Tolkien was catholic and a “gentleman”, the world he built is somehow devoid of sexuality or sexual matters, and asexual in itself. Nothing wrong with that, except we have countless examples of “sexual stuff” happening in the legendarium, from characters lusting after each other, to actual sexual assault. Just because Tolkien didn’t write explicit sex scenes (let’s say like George R.R. Martin, who devoted himself to try subvert Tolkien) doesn’t mean is not there. Not everything needs to be “in your face” meaning explicit.

Firstly, Tolkien cared enough about sexuality to write several essays on the matter, namely about the Eldar sex culture and customs. It’s clear that the Elves try to be the “perfect Catholics” on his lore, and this reflects on their views of sex = marriage, premarital sex is frowned upon, repression of sexual desire, adultery is unthinkable, and divorce is forbidden. The Eldar sex culture is purity culture in a nutshell. And it reflects Tolkien’s own views on the subject:

Later in life when sex cools down, it may be possible. It may happen between saints. To ordinary folk it can only rarely occur [...] Faithfulness in Christian marriage entails that: great mortification. For a Christian man there is no escape. Marriage may help to sanctify & direct to its proper object his sexual desires; its grace may help him in the struggle; but the struggle remains. It will not satisfy him – as hunger may be kept off by regular meals [...] No man, however truly he loved his betrothed and bride as a young man, has lived faithful to her as a wife in mind and body without deliberate conscious exercise of the will, without self-denial. [...] Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament [Marriage].... There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves upon earth, and more than that: Death: by the divine paradox, that which ends life, and demands the surrender of all, and yet by the taste (or foretaste) of which alone can what you seek in your earthly relationships (love, faithfulness, joy) be maintained, or take on that complexion of reality, of eternal endurance, which every man's heart desires. Tolkien Letter 43

In Tolkien lore, there’s a strong connection between sex and morality. This is clear on the most iconic romances on his legendarium: Beren and Lúthien, Aragorn and Arwen, etc., which follow the medieval tradition of Chivalric romance: adventures of knights, courtly love, codes of honor and chivalry, trials and tribulations in the pursuit of love and glory.

“Courly love”, in the European tradition, is a highly idealized portrayal of human romantic relationships, that emerged in the medieval courts of the continent. Is a form of ritualized love between a knight (Beren/Aragorn) and his lady (Lúthien/Arwen), characterized by restrain, discretion and devotion. Tolkien himself talks about this, as well:

It idealizes ‘love’ - and as far as it goes can be very good, since it takes in far more than physical pleasure, and enjoins if not purity, at least fidelity, and so self-denial, 'service’, courtesy, honor, and courage. Its weakness is, of course, that it began as an artificial courtly game, a way of enjoying love for its own sake without reference to (and indeed contrary to) matrimony.

It’s clear Tolkien sees the lustful side of relationships as something sinful, but does this equal “evil”? No, because his characters (including the Elves) and the legendarium are complex, and this is not a pure Good vs. Pure Evil world, as Tolkien says himself:

Some reviewers have called the whole thing simple-minded, just a plain fight between Good and Evil, with all the good just good, and the bad just bad. Pardonable, perhaps (though at least Boromir has been overlooked) in people in a hurry, and with only a fragment to read, and, of course, without the earlier written but unpublished Elvish histories. But the Elves are not wholly good or in the right. Tolkien Letter 154

For Tolkien, is more about being on the “right side of History” (let’s put it this way) than being an immaculate hero. His characters are complexed and nuanced:

There are also conflicts about important things or ideas. In such cases I am more impressed by the extreme importance of being on the right side, than I am disturbed by the revelation of the jungle of confused motives, private purposes, and individual actions (noble or base) in which the right and the wrong in actual human conflicts are commonly involved. If the conflict really is about things properly called right and wrong, or good and evil, then the rightness or goodness of one side is not proved or established by the claims of either side; it must depend on values and beliefs above and independent of the particular conflict. A judge must assign right and wrong according to principles which he holds valid in all cases. That being so, the right will remain an inalienable possession of the right side and Justify its cause throughout. (I speak of causes, not of individuals. Of course to a judge whose moral ideas have a religious or philosophical basis, or indeed to anyone not blinded by partisan fanaticism, the rightness of the cause will not justify the actions of its supporters, as individuals, that are morally wicked. But though 'propaganda' may seize on them as proofs that their cause was not in fact 'right', that is not valid. The aggressors are themselves primarily to blame for the evil deeds that proceed from their original violation of justice and the passions that their own wickedness must naturally (by their standards) have been expected to arouse. They at any rate have no right to demand that their victims when assaulted should not demand an eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth.) Similarly, good actions by those on the wrong side will not justify their cause. There may be deeds on the wrong side of heroic courage, or some of a higher moral level: deeds of mercy and forbearance. A judge may accord them honour and rejoice to see how some men can rise above the hate and anger of a conflict; even as he may deplore the evil deeds on the right side and be grieved to see how hatred once provoked can drag them down. But this will not alter his judgement as to which side was in the right, nor his assignment of the primary blame for all the evil that followed to the other side. In my story I do not deal in Absolute Evil. Letter 183

This is why, in "Rings of Power", Sauron can be in love with Galadriel and still be the villain he is. Tolkien doesn’t deal in absolutes, and Sauron is not pure evil, either.

And if people can’t wrap their head around nuanced and complex ideas, it’s not Tolkien's fault, really. This concept that “evil can love” (and it doesn’t make it any less evil) is absolutely fascinating to me, because I wholesome agree with this. Folks have this idealized notion of love (even Tolkien himself talks about this), like it’s only valid if it’s Beren and Lúthien. When it’s not. “Lord of the Rings” is meant to reflect our “fallen” world; and, in our world, tyrants and dictators can love, and have families, and still be genocidal monsters. Their ability to feel romantic love has no direct connection in how they treat their subjects. This is why Tolkien says that “good actions” on the wrong side don’t excuse it nor make it any less evil.

This is not “Harry Potter”, and Sauron is not “Voldemort” that can’t never “know love”. Tolkien was a college professor at Oxford, a renounced linguistic, the father of the modern fantasy genre, and a classic of World literature, he would never write just a basic concept.

This leads me to the idea that “Elves are not wholly good”, and that, they too, can be sinful, and that doesn’t make them “evil” (= on the wrong side). We see this with Galadriel in Tolkien legendarium; not only she commits the sin of pride, and greed, but also lust.

In "Unfinished Tales", Tolkien tells us: Celeborn was the lover of Galadriel, who she later wedded. In Letter 43, Tolkien defines what he means by “a lover” (in general): “engaging and blending all his affections and powers of mind and body in a complex emotion powerfully coloured and energized by sex”.

So, it’s safe to assume that Galadriel was having sex with Celeborn before they were even married (premarital sex). Probably that’s why he had no quarrels with the wild John Boorman script of her and Frodo f*cking in the middle of the woods.

Galadriel doesn’t care about the Eldar sex customs, because, of course, she doesn’t, she's above that, being Noldor royalty and her own authority. Which makes sense with her “repentant sinner” character arc in the legendarium, actually.

Because, as Tolkien, told us: “in The Lord of the Rings the conflict is not basically about 'freedom', though that is naturally involved. It is about God, and His sole right to divine honour” (Letter 183). And “sin” is considered a transgression against divine law (aka God); an offense against religious and moral laws.

Tolkien was religious, but he wasn’t a Catholic priest, and he was well aware that women have sexual desire, and some are, indeed, promiscuous and have no problems acting on it: “You may meet in life (as in literature) women who are flighty, or even plain wanton — I don't refer to mere flirtatiousness, the sparring practice for the real combat, but to women who are too silly to take even love seriously, or are actually so depraved as to enjoy 'conquests', or even enjoy the giving of pain – but these are abnormalities, even though false teaching, bad upbringing, and corrupt fashions may encourage them” (Letter 43). Pardon the language, but Tolkien was, after all, a man of his time.

The “Higher Beings” Nonsense

This is one of the occasions I completely disagree with Charlie Vickers when he calls Sauron a “higher being”. He probably means it in sense he’s a Maia, a demigod or an angel in Tolkien lore, but his use of words can cause some confusion. Sauron is, in no way, shape of form, an “higher being” (in the Christain sense): he’s a literal demon, a satanist, a follower and a servant of Satan himself, in Tolkien legendarium. Demons exist in the lowest frequencies of existence in Christian theology.

Tolkien makes this very clear on his letters: Melkor/Morgoth is Lucifer/Satan on his myth, he straight-up calls him “diabolus” (Letter 153). It should be obvious enough on his entire character: he’s the one who corrupts God’s creation and is the symbolic archangel/Valar (like Lucifer was). Him being dragged in chains and imprisoned until the end of time also parallels a biblical event.

Sauron is the chief satanist demon in the lore, the #1 servant and follower of Morgoth/Satan: Satanic rebellion and evil of Morgoth and his satellite Sauron; in which Evil is largely incarnate, and in which physical resistance to it is a major act of loyalty to God (Letter 156).

And here, too, there’s a weird attempt of de-sexualizing these characters (mostly Sauron) in the Tolkien fandom. Despite the fact almost everyone recognizes the Christian inspiration here, and the Devil being seen as the creator of all kinds of sexual depravity, deviation and promiscuity in the world (according to Christain faith); the same way Morgoth was responsible for "corrupting" Arda. Apparently, sex had nothing to do with this corruption, according to some. Odd, to say the least, when Tolkien gives us descriptions of “indominable lust” on both characters (Morgoth and Sauron).

Them being magical and demonic creatures might indicate they have the ability to control whenever they want to reproduce or not. We know from the lore that Morgoth bound himself to his physical form because of his non-stop corruption of Arda.

On Note 5 (“Vinyar Tengwar”) of “Osanwe-kenta", Tolkien writes:

The things that are most binding [to Valar and Maiar] are those that in the Incarnates have to do with the life of the hroa itself, its sustenance, and its propagation. Thus eating and drinking are binding, but not the delight in beauty of sound and form. Most binding is begetting or conceiving. We do not know the axani (laws, rules, as primarily proceeding from Eru) that were laid down upon the Valar with particular reference to their state, but it seems clear that there was no axan against these things. Nonetheless it appears to be an axan, or maybe necessary consequence, that if they are done, then the spirit must dwell in the body that is used, and be under the same necessities as the Incarnate. The only case that is known in the histories of the Eldar is that of Melian (...) 'The great Valar do not do these things: they beget not, neither do they eat and drink, save at the high asari, in token of their lordship and indwelling of Arda, and for the blessing and sustenance of the Children. Melkor alone became at last bound to a bodily form...'

This might suggest that Morgoth became bound a physical form because of his “great lust”. "Begetting and conceiving” might, indeed, mean more than just standard reproduction, because Morgoth did “begot” with creation and mastery of several races and creatures. However, the only other example of a Ainur (in this case a Maia) getting bound to a physical form in the lore is Melian, when she became pregnant with Lúthien (after reproducing with her Elf love, Thingol).

* Trigger warning: Mentions of Sexual Assault *

Then we have the fact that Morgoth might have been a serial r*pist. In “Myths Transformed” section of “Morgoth’s ring”, Tolkien has Morgoth r*ping Arien, the Maia who ruled the sun, and was “the most ardent and beautiful of all the spirits that had entered into Eä with [Varda]":

. . . afire at once with desire and anger, [Melkor] went to Asa [The Sun] and he spoke to Arie, saying: 'I have chosen thee, and thou shalt be my spouse, even as Varda is to Manwe, and together we shall wield all splendour and majesty. Then the kingship of Arda shall be mine in deed as in right, and thou shalt be the partner of my glory.' But Arie rejected Melkor and rebuked him, saying: 'Speak not of right, which thou hast long forgotten. Neither for thee nor by thee alone was Ea made; and thou shalt not be King of Arda. Beware therefore; for there is in the heart of [Asa] a light in which thou hast no part, and a fire which will not serve thee. Put not out thy hand to it. For though thy potency may destroy it, it will burn thee and thy brightness will be made dark.' Melkor did not heed her warning, but cried in his wrath: 'The gift which was withheld I take!' and he ravished Arie, desiring both to abase her and to take into himself her powers. Then the spirit of Arie went up like a flame of anguish and wrath,�� and departed for ever from Arda; and the Sun was bereft of the Light of Varda, and was stained by the assault of Melkor. And [the Sun] being for a long while without rule . . . grievous hurt was done to Arda . . . until with long toil the Valar made a new order. But even as Arie foretold, Melkor was burned and his brightness darkened, and he gave no more light, but light pained him exceedingly and he hated it. Nonetheless Melkor would not leave Arda in peace . . .

So, yes, Tolkien really had the Devil r*ping the Sun... Can this be a parallel Sauron and Galadriel’s scene in “Rings of Power” Season 2 finale? When Sauron ravishes Galadriel's soul using Morgoth's crown? Since Sauron said he would make Galadriel a “queen as fair as the sea and the sun”, in 1x08? No quite. But more on that later.

Then we have the infamous Lúthien episode. There is an on-going debate on Morgoth’s intentions in this scene, but, in my opinion, and taking in consideration the incident with Arien, the “since he fled from Valinor” bit might indicate his intention was, indeed, to r*pe Lúthien.

Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty [Lúthien] conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for a while, and taking secret pleasure in his thought. The Silmarillion [Lúthien dances for Morgoth on his Dark Throne, before she puts him and all the host of Angband to sleep with her magic singing]

Tolkien comes back to this “evil lust” Morgoth felt for Lúthien on several works:

…Yet I will give a respite brief, a while to live, a little while, though purchased dear, to Lúthien the fair and clear, a pretty toy for idle hour. In slothful garden many a flower like thee the amorous gods are used honey-sweet to kiss, and cast then bruised, their fragrance loosing, under feet. … A! curse the Gods! O hunger dire,O blinding thirst’s unending fire! One moment shall ye cease, and slake your sting with morsel I here take! In his eyes the fire to flame was fanned,and forth he stretched his brazen hand.Lúthien as shadow shrank aside. ‘Not thus, O King! Not thus!’ she cried. … …And her wings she caught then deftly up, and swift as thought slipped from his grasp, and wheeling round, fluttering before his eyes, she wound a mazy-wingéd dance… The Lay of Leithian, The Lost Road and Other Writings

“Nay,” saith Melkor, “such things are little to my mind; but as thou hast come thus far to dance, dance, and after we will see,” and with that he leered horribly, for his dark mind pondered some evil. Book of Lost Tales vol.2

Then Morgoth laughed, but he was moved with suspicion, and said that her accursed race would get no soft words or favour in Angband. What could she do to give him pleasure, and save herself from the lowest dungeons? He reached out his mighty brazen hand but she shrank away. He is angry but she offers to dance. Commentary to the Lay of Leithian (The Lays of Beleriand)

Almost every servant of Morgoth either came to resent him or were absolutely terrified of him. The most notorious case being Sauron himself, as he went into the hiding after his spectacular defeat in Tol-in-Gauhoth (at the hands of Lúthien and Huan, the Hound of Valinor), probably to escape being punished by Morgoth.

“Rings of Power” already had Sauron talking about the unbelievable tortures he endured at Morgoth’s hands, and taking into consideration all of this… well, those “r*pe of Mairon” dead dove fanfictions might be on to something here.

Do you know what it is to be tortured at the hands of a god?

Sauron’s entire dialogue in this scene can be interpreted as that of a r*pe survivor, actually: we have the dissociation element of “sometimes, the pain almost became a reward. Became a game"; and the self-guilt of “no, you chose it” (which is something many victims of sexual assault go through).

And then, we have the fact that the “feminization of hyper-masculine Mairon” was a consequence of his corruption by Morgoth, as I’ve already talked about in this post.

Tolkien himself talks about the Christian devil in terms of sex and lust, so it’s odd why the Tolkien fandom plays mental gymnastics trying to equalize Tolkien’s use of the sin “lust” with “greed” (these are two different sins in Christian theology, even though they are connected).

The devil is endlessly ingenious, and sex is his favorite subject. He is as good every bit at catching you through generous romantic or tender motives, as through baser or more animal ones. Letter 43

Greed vs. Lust in Tolkien Lore

Indeed, Tolkien uses the sin “Lust” in connection with "Power" and "Jewels" (Silmarils/One ring/gold), but this might be a metaphor for sexual temptation, as well. Mainly because of his Christian inspiration behind the whole story.

Some examples of Tolkien’s usage of the word “lust”, that might be interpreted as “greed”:

The oath of the sons of Fëanor becomes operative, and lust for the Silmarils brings all the kingdoms of the Elves to ruin." "But also they [rings of power] enhanced the natural powers of a possessor – thus approaching 'magic', a motive easily corruptible into evil, a lust for domination." "Very slowly, beginning with fair motives: the reorganising and rehabilitation of the ruin of Middle-earth, 'neglected by the gods', he [Sauron] becomes a reincarnation of Evil, and a thing lusting for Complete Power – and so consumed ever more fiercely with hate (especially of gods and Elves)." Now Sauron’s lust and pride increased, until he knew no bounds, and he determined to make himself master of all things in Middle-earth, and to destroy the Elves, and to compass if he might, the downfall of Númenor

"Also so great was the [One] Ring's power of lust, that anyone who used it became mastered by it..." The Númenóreans attempted to take the Undying Land by force of a great armada in their lust for corporal immortality.

“Greed” is the disordered desire to consume (wealth, power); while “Lust” is the disordered desire to possess (something or someone). Lust is “consumption” and “action”, while greed is “hoarding” and “possessing”. Someone who is greedy wants more and more of something (not necessarily do anything with it); while someone who is lustful wants to do something with the thing it desires.

But “desire” that is not acted upon in Tolkien lore is not sinful, nor it’s a transgression of God’s (Eru) laws.

“The Original sin” (or “The Fall") is central to Tolkien world-building: “The dislocation of sex-instinct is one of the chief symptoms of the Fall [of Adam and Eve]”. And this means is that Lust is the “original sin”, and the gateway to sin, and from where all other sins originate.

St. Paul writes "cupiditas radix malorum": “the root of all evil is cupidity". This is motivated by the fact that Eve ate the forbidden fruit because "she saw it, was beautiful". This explains why Christians have such a bad view of sex, especially when it’s not restrained by marriage.

There is lust for the forbidden fruit (the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil that Adam and Eve were instructed not to eat in the Garden of Eden). This is when “sin” is first introduced into the world, leading to their banishment from paradise. The themes here are: disobedience to God, and succumbing to temptation (Devil).

And it’s the serpent that inflames Eve's lust, and "Rings of Power" wasn't even being subtle here (even the OST for this scene is called "The Fall of Galadriel"):

“Lust”, in his biblical/catholic sense, is the misuse of the body, sexually. The opposite of “lust” is “temperance” and “chastity”. “Lust” is disorderly sexual desire, and the subordinated enjoyment of sexual pleasure (against God’s law). It’s not just promiscuity, but extra-marital sex, as well.

In the Bible, “lust” is thematized by adultery (because marriage is a sacred sacrament, and acting against it, it’s breaking God’s laws, hence being a “deadly sin”). We also see this sin in connection with “idolatry” (one of Sauron’s crimes in Tolkien lore), when characters (such as Solomon) take foreign wives, symbolizing the forsaking of one’s partner for another.

But the catch here is: Eve wanted to eat the forbidden fruit. She wanted to bite into it, it was consensual. She was tempted, and she succumbed to temptation, to lust.

This pretty much goes hand with hand what I wrote on my “Of sin and sinners” post, that made the purity police gone wild. Galadriel and Sauron’s dynamic is not only hyper sexual, but it’s being consummated as well, and that’s why Galadriel gets banish from Valinor.

Sauron ravishing Galadriel using a sharp object parallels another Christian event (demonic version): the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa.

Beside me, on the left, appeared an angel in bodily form…. He was […] very beautiful; and his face was so aflame that he appeared to be one of the highest rank of angels, who seem to be all on fire…. In his hands I saw a great golden spear, and at the iron tip there appeared to be a point of fire. This he plunged into my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails. When he pulled it out I felt that he took them with it, and left me utterly consumed by the great love of God. The pain was so severe that it made me utter several moans. The sweetness caused by this intense pain is so extreme that one cannot possibly wish it to cease, nor is one’s soul content with anything but God. This is not a physical but a spiritual pain, though the body has some share in it—even a considerable share.

This is, essentially, a description of a Catholic saint having an orgasm. The “lorebros” wanted the Virgin Mary that never was, and “Rings of Power” delivered. Iconic. And that probably provides the subtext to this unhinged expression over here:

Happy with ourselves, are we?

So, yes, in the end, Sauron did take Celeborn’s woman as foreshadowed by Season 1 with the “clams” scene in Númenor (1x03). And now that his blood is inside of her, stuff is about to get wild.

#saurondriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron

137 notes · View notes

ayabeanworks · 1 year ago

Text

Title: Can I meet you again?

Synopsis: AU in which Geto does not defect, but you do instead.

Character: SaShiSu x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Literally just heavy angst & sadness. Mentions of death, murder, suicide and reincarnation. Heavy themes. Lots of swearing. Spoilers for JJK season 2 (anime).

Part 2 available here!

Prequel available here!

AU sequel available here!

The songs I had playing while writing this was: - Hero by Alan Walker (Probably played this one the most that it's at the top of my repeated songs Spotify list ☠️) - Apollo (Eurovision ver) by Timebelle - Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan

"Oh?"

Shoko stared at you as you waved at her with a bright smile, brows raising in surprise as she took out a new smoke in the Shinjuku smoking area.

You made your way over to her, finding that she wasn't pushing you away. It was good to see a friend after a while, but you weren't too sure if you had that privilege anymore.

For you, you were testing the waters.

"Hey, Shoko." You took out a lighter from your pocket, one-handedly opening it for her to light her cigarette.

"Fancy seeing you here. You need something from me?" She glanced into your direction, taking a shallow inhale and extending her exhale.

You hummed in reply. "Just testing my luck."

"So, just to be sure, are the claims false?"

"Unfortunately, they're true." You could only bring yourself to shrug lightly, looking ahead. From your peripherals, you could see her taking out her phone to call the others.

"Just to be sure again: why?"

"I want to create a world where jujutsu sorcerers don't have to struggle." You didn't elaborate.

"Wow, that's funny!" Shoko laughed lightly, but there really wasn't anything humourous behind it. It was as if she was contemplating asking more. After all, everyone and everything struggles, so what is this righteous talk from you?

"Do you think I'm wrong?" You asked, hearing the faint ringing of her phone as she waited for one of the others to pick up.

"Right or wrong, it was dumb." Shoko didn't even hold back on her words, making you genuinely laugh at how frank she was, regardless had you been granted a bounty.

"Gojo, Geto, [name]'s here with me in Shinjuku." Gojo seemed to say something on the other side, but Shoko retorted, "No way! I don't wanna die." She hung up after conveying her message.

"So, what will you do now?" She turned to you, exhaling a puff of smoke into a ring above her head.

"I don't know. I might see you around, I guess." You took a step forward, facing her. "See you later, Shoko." You knew Gojo and Geto would be here at any moment, but you didn't know if you wanted to face them.

Shoko didn't say anything in response, just watching as the ashes fell from the cigarette between her fingers.

You didn't see, but it was the first time Shoko has made an expression where she was at a loss of what to do.

And, that was the last time you saw Shoko.

"WAIT, [NAME]!" Satoru bellowed out to you as you walked away, in front of the KFC you all used to go to until recently.

He caught up pretty fast...where's Sugu? You sensed his curse energy, but you weren't sure where it was. As for Satoru, he was only a few metres away from you down the slope of the street.

You sighed inwardly, ready to face him. "'toru."

The nickname you usually call him by hurt him more this time around as he registered how unaffectionate your voice was, contrary to the usual. It was devoid of any emotion. Like you didn't care about what you left behind. Like you didn't care about him.

"Explain yourself, [name]!" He demanded, sunglasses further down his nose as he watched you with wide eyes full of emotions of all kinds, but you mainly picked out disbelief and anger.

"There's nothing else to say. You've heard from Shoko." You stated, watching the twitch in his face as he evaluated your dismissive answer.

"So you'll kill anybody who makes life hard for Jujutsu sorcerers? Both sorcerers and non-sorcerers?" Satoru's voice rose in anger.

After all, you did kill an elder a week ago. It was the one that'd been annoying you since forever, the one who tried to get you purposely killed each and every time you went on a mission. Killing him was much easier than you had imagined, though.

"Well, if natural selection isn't going to do anything, I might as well do it instead." You crack a light joke, but your words were serious.

"That's not what I'm asking! I thought you were against killing if there was no meaning to it?!"

"There's a meaning behind everything. A purpose, even."

"No there isn't! You want to make a world where Jujutsu sorcerers don't suffer? That's impossible!"

"Satoru's right, [name]." Geto spoke from behind you, his voice wafting through the air as he went to stand closer to Gojo as he faced you. "There's a purpose to everything, but there's a better way of doing things than say, homicide. Especially for us in the Jujutsu world."

You wanted to scoff. But, you couldn't, because you used to be that way, too. But everything ate away at you, and you just weren't the same person anymore with the same aligning morals. You chose to go down the path you've decided to go down, even if it meant deserting everything you knew before.

"Is it really impossible?" Your voice was light, but the lilt in it was undeniably laced with seriousness. "I wouldn't do this if there was a shred of impossible in it."

The alarm on their faces was really something.

"[name]...you'll need to fight us if you keep going down this path." Suguru spoke his words deliberately, slowly, like he was getting a child to listen to him. He was careful.

Satoru clenched his teeth and fists. He wanted to say that it was impossible yet again, that when you fight them, you'll lose. But, you knew that. You knew, so why?

"Wow, I'll get to fight the 2 strongest sorcerers!" You clapped your hands together once, a smile on your lips, one that didn't reach your eyes. "Maybe so, but you're not my targets. There's some smaller fish compared to you I must get rid of first."

"Why?" Geto voiced both Gojo and his thoughts, a quick glance at Satoru knew he wasn't going to be able to hold a proper conversation without shouting.

"Why?" You echoed his question. "Well, for starters, we're treated like shit, in both worlds regardless sorcerers or non-sorcerers. Do you remember? The elder I killed, he was truly one who deserved to die. The number of times he ignored protests, warnings and more...killing off our sorcerers one by one, do you really believe someone like him being alive is worth all that struggle? For him, he deserves to die for that alone."

Geto was about to open his mouth after a thought, but you interrupted him. "Also, he was a paedophile so he deserves everything that's come his way. The world needs none of those disgusting pigs."

You couldn't forgive him. You couldn't forgive such a disgusting creature existed. When you found out the information coincidently, you knew you had to do something about it.

The anger in your eyes was juxtaposed by the small smile on your lips, one that was almost proud of what you did.

Satoru couldn't contain himself any longer, "Yeah, he was a fucking piece of shit, but killing him? That's made you one of the sorcerers we've got to kill! You're to be executed on sight! You're a hypocrite, [name]. Are you trying to get all the sorcerers you want to protect to come kill you?"

You watched him as he heaved a breath, his eyes feeling heavy on your form as he tried to convey his distraught to you about the whole situation.

You barked out a laugh, a hand landing on your hip as you stared at him, no trace of the smile on your features anymore.

"Hypocrite?" The question lay on the tip of your tongue, before you let out a low chuckle, feeling your throat go dry. "Perhaps you're right; I am. I am a hypocrite who wants death as much as those geezers who send us out to kill ourselves."

"Oh, and you forgot one detail. I don't care about sorcerers and non-sorcerers at all. They're equally as bad as each other. The only difference is that sorcerers have the power to wield cursed energy and use it to destroy curses made up from the normie's emotions." You gave him a half lie. It was easier to push him away. Push him away so he won't be able to break the armour you've put up.

"And what of him dying? Are the elders going to retire themselves? Or will they KILL us sorcerers first?" Your voice became an octave higher as you emphasised words that made you emotional.

"After I kill them, you can then reform the society as you wish. You could probably kill them yourself, 'toru, but you won't take that step. That's why I'll take that step instead." You give him a crooked smile, "There's nothing here worth living for."

"Nothing worth living for?" Satoru repeated your words, taking off his sunglasses, watching you with his blue eyes, and you could see the monstrous waves of emotion behind them. "Are you fucking blind?"

Suguru glanced over at Gojo, hoping he didn't have to inject himself in between to stop it from escalating further.

"No, I am not fucking blind, Satoru!" A chip from your facade broke off, revealing a mess of emotions in the split second your voice broke. "Do you understand how suffocating it is living in this world? Where all your friends die in front of you, or there's a chance they'll die on their next mission? Where the strongest wins - and in this world, if the curses aren't the strongest, the sorcerers at their highest standing are!"

"You know I--" He began, but you cut him off.

"I know you hate them as much as I do! But I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of them, even if it means forsaking you all to do it." You almost sound like you're pleading by the end, your eyes starting to tear up.

"And after. When they're gone, you can reform the system, and control it in the way that works best for this generation." You force a smile to your lips, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Someone has to be the bad guy, and I'm willing to play the role, even if I may die in the process."

"[name], this can be done differently--"

"I'm tired, Satoru. I've tried. I've tried, and I'm tired. Why don't you understand that?" You whisper, shaking your head. "Do you know how many times I've tried talking to the higher ups, or anybody for that matter? No, you don't. You've been on missions this whole time, so you don't know. Even Suguru doesn't know the full extent of it. Shoko knows a bit, but she's not one who can do much about it."

Suguru and Satoru were silent for a moment, their eyes on you as your expression gave away everything you wanted to say.

"I won't be there, but it's a sacrifice worth making if you all aren't in danger. I don't care about anything else." Your words were soft, soft enough for them to hear you, soft enough for you to hope to convince yourself it was the right way and you didn't make the wrong choice.

Satoru and Suguru were the strongest duo. But, before they were, they were your best friends, along with Shoko. But now? Were you still able to call them your best friends? Did you even have that privilege anymore?

But, this is the path you took. Even if it meant abandoning those that you held dear, it was all for them. The real truth to your purpose and change of heart was to make a world easier for them, and for you, and for everybody who came after you. You didn't want anyone else to experience what you have, and you were going to do whatever you can to make that a reality.

You didn't give a flying fuck about anything else other than your best friends, if you were being honest. If it meant that you won't be by their side anymore, it was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

"So, I won't stop. This world is absolutely fucked. Why save something that can't be saved no more? I'd rather go down fighting. Morals be damned."

Your eyes glistening with tears unshed, you press your lips into a genuine smile. The last genuine smile before giving them a wave, "I guess this is goodbye. The next time I see you, 'toru, Sugu, we'll be enemies."

You turned on your heel, ready to leave, but you felt the curse energy expand from behind you, like they were readying to attack.

But, you kept walking, and nothing happened.

Satoru's outstretched hand fell back down to his side as he swore a string of curses, the pain on his face evident as he watched your figure disappear in the crowd of people.

Suguru had half a mind to get one of his curses to follow you, but he knew you well enough that the curse would be killed the minute you felt his cursed energy, so he didn't even bother.

His clenched his hand into a fist, a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered back to when he was in a similar situation to you, but you and the others managed to get him out of it. He felt saved, but now, seeing it happen to the very person who helped him, made him shatter inside.

Why did you help him, when you couldn't even help yourself with your own words? Why didn't you let them help you? Why didn't you let them know you were having a hard time? That this was what you were contemplating?

He would have listened. They would have listened. They always would.

He felt a cold shiver go down his spine as he watched the endless stream of pedestrians, ones he used to call 'monkeys' in his head, but when letting go of that thought, you were at the forefront of his mind. It was you who grabbed his hand, you who brought him back.

It was you.

But he wasn't able to bring you back. He wasn't able to bring back the one who had nowhere else to go. The one who didn't know what to do with their emotions. The one who got lost.

But would he really call you lost when you knew what you wanted to do, where you wanted to go?

Suguru knew you weren't malicious. At least, not originally. The essence of you, he knew, was someone who cared greatly. One who had their heart on their sleeve when talking about anything and everything, especially with them. He didn't worry about you because you were always ok. But, there were things you didn't tell them and they didn't know, because you never let that part see the light of the day.

The only thing that Suguru felt in his chest, was regret. Regret so raw he felt cold and numb.

Satoru muttered another string of curses, turning on his heel, "Let's go, Suguru." His voice was small, and he didn't want to say any more.

He pondered all the possibilities of you. But he couldn't make himself understand you like you understood him. Which is what made it even more painful.

"I'm not as strong as you." Were words you once said to Satoru.

A forgotten conversation, one you started when he had come into your room even though the light was off, finding comfort in your presence. He wanted to sleep in the same bed or at least the same room, but you were still awake, sitting up in your bed and watching the stars and sky from your window.

Satoru didn't say anything as he climbed into your double bed, comfort filling his whole being from your calming scent alone. He wouldn't admit it, but it was one of his favourite places to be when he had turmoil in his mind.

"Yeah, you're weak." He mumbled, his face squished against the pillow as he faced you.

He could see the illuminated outline of your features from the moon, finding them captivating as he watched you with half-lidded eyes.

No, you're strong, were the real words he wanted to say. But, he had always called you weak, so he was going to continue. What harm was there?

You turn your head slightly, gazing at him with a soft smile. It was like you knew what he wanted to say, but didn't hold anything against him for saying the opposite of what he truly felt.

"You're right," You whispered. "I'm weak."

You went to close the curtains, slipping back into bed with Satoru as you closed your eyes, ignoring the gaze on you as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru had a feeling those words were in reference to something else, but he had no idea what. He felt an invisible wall between you and him from the interaction just now, one that shouldn't be there lest he had his infinity on. But he never did unless in certain situations.

"You're plenty strong, [name]." He whispered this, bringing his finger to tap your forehead, before he also went to sleep.

You weren't asleep yet, so you heard his comment. It warmed your heart, the freezing depths of it wanting to thaw. It made you want to spill the inner turmoils of your mind, but you were scared it would taint the bright sun that is Satoru.

Satoru's a lot sweeter than he lets on, you let a small smile grace your lips as you face him to sleep.

Thinking back to that conversation, Satoru leaned back in the chair of your room, wondering where it all went wrong.

Were you trying to reach out to him back then? Or were you asking him for some form of confirmation? Were you trying to let him know you were not alright? What did you want?

He wasn't as good at reading emotions like Suguru was, but he knew something was wrong when something was wrong. He just didn't know how to approach it.

He wondered, if he had indulged you that time, would you have let him in?

"You had another fight with the elders, huh." Suguru stated, seeing your current state. He sat where the vending machines were, having just taken a seat after taking a shower. The can of green tea he had in his hands was opened and given to you, "Drink up."

You held an angry expression prior to this, but being with Suguru made you calm down. You took the green tea and took a small sip, savouring the bitter flavour. It was refreshing.

You handed it back to Suguru, "Thank you." He took it back and took a large gulp, feeling it cool down his body.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Suguru prodded. He knew something was up. Normally you'd be more like Satoru when you came out pissed from the elders meetings. But this time, you were quiet, more like you were seething, like a volcano about to erupt.

You stared at the ground, wondering what you should start with. You felt that all the words exchanged between you and the elders wasn't listened to, wasn't taken into account. It was like talking to a massive brick wall, one that you had no way to get through to.

"I..." You started, but your throat clammed up. You stopped, waiting for the words to come naturally. When your throat finally decided it was ready to talk, your voice was a whisper. "If the elders disappeared, would this all end?"

Suguru's gaze landed on you, knowing full well what you were thinking. He gave you the green tea again. You took it, and another sip.

"If the elders disappeared, others would take their place."

Suguru could feel something was wrong. The atmosphere was different with you, just like how it was different for him a year ago after the star plasma vessel mission. He could sense it in his very being, something was wrong.

"If the others took their place, would they act the same as the ones now?" You chuckled to yourself, but your voice dropped an octave, "Jujutsu society is trash."

There was a slight panic that welled up inside Suguru, reminding himself of the emotions he himself went through not too long ago.

He could see himself in you, and he hated it. Not the one who had helped to bring him out of it, the one who reached out their hand to bring him back to the light. Not you.

"[name]. You don't hate all sorcerers, do you?" His voice was calm, probing for information for your current state of mind.

Back then, he was on the verge of deciding whether to continue as someone who protected the weak, or someone who didn't care for the weak. And now, you were going through something similar. He wanted to bring you back to him, to the one you saved.

After a moment, you shook your head. "I don't. I just...hate how the elders are sending out young sorcerers to their deaths. I hate how there are young Jujutsu sorcerers being taken away from their families so they can train to be another one of us disposables. I hate how no matter what, the top dogs in this world are absolute trash, who need to be burned at the stake. And don't get me started on curses. They're the worst. I hate them. I hate them so much for taking away so much from everyone. From sorcerers, from non-sorcerers..."

A pregnant pause.

"I hate this world that has curses." Your voice cracked at the end of it as you leaned down, head in your hands as you stared at the ground, a broken whisper of self-awareness, "I hate how I've begun thinking this way."

Suguru didn't know when he had held his breath. Your confession was so raw. You had every right to be angry and frustrated at the system which Jujutsu was. He had also held the same thoughts.

"Sugu..." There was a heartbreaking whine to your voice, one that sounded as if you were on the verge of crying. "I hate this."

An embrace, so gentle, so tender, so soft, enveloped you as his larger body wrapped around yours. You could smell the soap he used as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck, his larger hand stroking your hair as you finally let the tears fall, a broken sob reverberating through your body as you held onto him like he was your lifeline.

"[name], I'm here." He soothes, head gently resting against yours. He closed his eyes, pulling you in closer when he felt you trembling. This was the exact same thing you did for him before, one that soothed him and his tumultuous heart.

The only difference is, you were smaller than before, too. Were you eating properly? You were skinnier. Did you get enough sleep? There were bags under your eyes. Did you take a break? He didn't see the last time you took a break.

You pulled away after a while, eyes puffy and face covered with snot. Suguru didn't even flinch as he grabbed the towel sitting next to him, wiping off any excess liquid from your face. It was gentle, and it reminded you he was the most gentle out of the three, and he'd been in a similar position to you at this moment in time. When you looked up to meet his eyes, you decided, you didn't want to burden him with your thoughts of hate - one time was enough.

"I'll always be here if you need me. You can come to me anytime." His hand went to your cheek and his thumb wiped at the area of your cheekbone. Just like his tender hugs, this was so, so soft that it made you want to cry again, making you nearly regret the decision in your heart.

You could only lean into his hand and give him a nod, eyes closing as you felt fatigue come down on your body, making it feel heavy. You didn't even know you fell asleep so fast that Suguru had to catch you, hauling you up so he could carry you back to your room.

This was the only time you revealed your true thoughts to Suguru, and the only time he has ever seen you this way.

Maybe this was the start of it? Suguru's thoughts when he woke up were clear in his mind. The dream he had was something that really happened, and it hurt him he wasn't able to help you during your hardest moments like you did for him.

He had slept in your bed for the night, finding that he missed you and the comfort you brought him. Your scent was calming to him, and it will forever be a saviour to his soul.

A week before killing the elder, Shoko had found you passed out in the infirmary, half of your body on a chair, and half of it off and on the ground.

She raised a brow at your position, wondering if you were tired and just fell asleep. On closer inspection, she could see the dark circles under your eyes, the thinning of your cheeks, and realised you've lost a lot of weight. The bottle on the chair were a bunch of sleeping pills, open and spilled, indicating you had taken some just prior.

If she wasn't worried about you before, she was definitely worried now.

And when you woke up, you were just like normal, which made Shoko question whether you were just overworked. She did know you fought a lot with the elders and were sent on difficult missions because they were out to get you. So with this information in mind, she was sure you were in need of a proper break, away from everything and everyone.

Which was why she advocated for you to get a break, away from Tokyo, to an island resort with lots of sunshine. A proper 4 day break. Of course, she got Satoru to pay for it since he was loaded and actually owed [name] for a previous thing.

But, the aftermath that came from that was the death of the elder 3 days after coming back.

Did that moment of clarity cause everything to happen? When you were on break, was that when everything went out of control? Was that when you decided this was the path you wanted to take?

You had looked completely back to normal after coming back that the worry Shoko and the boys held for you was almost like a false alarm - but they didn't realise that that in itself was the real alarm.

You were happy - or at least, you were smiling like you did before. It was wonderful to see you back to your regular self, something everyone mutually agreed on by the other sorcerers.

Until you murdered the elder, that is.

That was your first step into the world of depravity, away from the world of Jujutsu, and closer to the world called Hell.

[name]'s heart was soft. It was originally that way, and as you traversed through life, fell and got back up, your heart became stronger. However, it was just an outer layer, like a piece of armour for your fragile heart. You would pretend things were fine until it wasn't, even if you wore your heart on your sleeve, letting the people around you know what you thought, even if they thought you were joking.

It was almost too sudden when you realised all the armour around your soft heart had shattered to pieces.

It was like you lost a part of you that day, and you didn't know what could fix you. You didn't know if you could be fixed. So, you did the only thing you could do.

Pick up the pieces and do your best to put it back together, create a wall for your heart before it gets pierced again.

But before you were able to, a gunshot would shatter your glued armour, shattering in your hands, and your heart was laid bare, bleeding out without any way to stop.

And you wished and wished, for someone to reach out their hands to you and drag you out of your ocean of misery. But, nobody could reach deep enough, and you couldn't reach because you had no strength left to.

You couldn't reach out anymore. No matter how much you wanted, the same fate would await you, and you'd fall into such despair again.

You were tired. You were so, so, so tired.

The ones who made you like this, were ironically the ones who could take you out.

"____." You give them one last smile, a genuine one, as you feel the tears coming down your face, bringing your blade to your neck, before slicing and ending your own life.

You didn't want to die at the hands of your best friends. Not because they're your best friends, but because they would bear the burden of having killed you, and you didn't think they'd be able to take that, especially at the ripe age of 19. So, you'd rather do it for them, making it easier. After all, it would've been close to impossible going up against two of the strongest sorcerers.

You could only hear screams at you from the distance as the pain numbed your mind and body. Geto & Gojo were both screaming your name as they sprinted to you, their panicked shouts becoming background noise as they held onto your body, lifting you up to bring you to Shoko.

Your eyes could only see the terrified blue eyes from Satoru as he carried you on Geto's curse. He seemed to be wanting the curse to go faster, but Geto could only reply in an equally as panicked tone, saying this was his fastest one and that they're going as fast as they could to Shoko.

Your eyes are too beautiful to be panicking, you wanted to say. But, you couldn't. Blood had gotten into your oesophagus, making you struggle to breathe as you coughed and suffocated on your own blood.

"[NAME]! ARE YOU WITH ME?! STAY AWAKE!" Satoru's frantic shouts were barely ringing in your ears, but the creases on his face shouldn't have been there. They were going to give him wrinkles.

With one of the last ounces of your strength, you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, then gently smooth the line between his brows, giving a weak smile.

Satoru let out a choked sound similar to a sob, understanding exactly what you were doing and what you wanted to say. He held your wrist, supporting you in whatever way he can as he could feel your body heat leaving you. Suguru placed a hand on your cheek, stroking the area under the eye, just like he always did.

It made you feel nostalgic, but you could barely see his expression, since tears had blurred your vision. You wanted to reach for Suguru before you had no more strength, so you gently moved your raised arm in that direction. Satoru, knowing exactly what you were doing, guided your hand to Suguru, who took your hand gently, holding it preciously between his two hands.

"Let's get you home, [name]." Were the last words Geto said to you. By 'home', he meant with them, back to Jujutsu, so they could forget everything that happened and start over. It would just be like those happy days, back when there was nothing to worry about.

In your state, you couldn't make out everything he was saying, but you knew they were kind words by his intonation and the caress he held for your bloodied hand.

You only gave them a smile, one that was apologetic, as you felt your consciousness fading away. The tears that blurred your vision finally fell, and the slight squeeze of your hand in Geto's made him realise that was it.

For you, it was time to sleep. It was a time for you to finally rest your tired mind and body, away from this world, and away from all those that you loved.

Suguru looked over at Satoru, who was biting his lip almost bruisingly as they trembled. With his sunglasses off, he could see everything in detail, including the way your cursed energy stopped, from when your body heat disappeared, and he couldn't feel you anymore. You were a hollow shell of a body now, and the last thing you left them was an apologetic smile on your face.

Away from the battleground, Shoko looked out the window, a pang of sadness hitting her all at once when she realised the screams belonging to Geto & Gojo resonated through the forest. She could barely just hear them, but she knew, the dread that filled her veins was apparent. She knew.

She closed her eyes, taking out the cigarette between her lips as she exstinguished it, her arm covering her eyes as she leaned back in her seat, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

"Quite sad, really. None of you realised [name] suffered this much." Kenjaku sowed the top of your head back together after revealing some information you kept hidden to Suguru & Satoru, and about your last moments and thoughts.

Seeing the despair and shock on their faces was intoxicating, especially when it came to the body he borrowed. Kenjaku knew the amount of love that had been given to the original owner of his current body, and using that, he could disarm even the strongest of sorcerers in the modern day.

It was a pity you were dead, but if you were alive and not dead, Kenjaku wouldn't have been able to take over your body now, would he?

It was especially sweet because the body hadn't even been cremated and still looked the same as it did 10 years ago. And those two who had been responsible for it were standing in front of him, in Shibuya station during Halloween.

Even better because you had died in their arms, so seeing you alive as Kenjaku was more of a sick joke than anything, but he loved that expression on the ones who had essentially allowed you to be this way.

"If only the people around them were able to reach out a hand before their descent into madness, none of this would have happened." Kenjaku ran a hand through your hair.

Satoru let out a low growl from his throat as he watched whoever was in your body use it, control it, and pretend to be you. No one could be you. You were gone. You were gone 10 years ago. And he knew - he knew you were not in front of him.

You died in his arms.

So there was absolutely no way that could be you. Absolutely not!

But, his six eyes said otherwise. It was you. Everything was you. It was the same you who died in his arms 10 years ago, the same you who gave him one last smile before leaving the earth.

It tore him to pieces inside.

Suguru put out an arm in front of Satoru, eyeing the cursed user in your body. He was pretending to be calm, but the way his hands and jaw clenched at the blatant disrepect Kenjaku had for your body was digusting. How dare he exhume your grave and take your body from it?

He felt a cold, almost murderous feeling bubble up inside him as he readied himself for combat.

That was not you. And it couldn't be, even if Satoru's six eyes recognised you to be alive. You weren't alive. You had been lost long ago, and whoever was in front of them was an imposter.

"[name]! How long are you going to let this little bitch take over your body?" Satoru finally burst, pissed at the prospect of someone disrespecting you.

Your hand, reacting almost instantaneously, went straight for the top of the head, right where Kenjaku's brain was. It stabbed straight through the cranium, a crunch eliciting a scream from Kenjaku himself as the brain was stabbed, wounding his real body. Kenjaku used your other arm to stop your attack on his weak point, feeling the blood pour out.

For a moment, it was silent except the light splatter and pitter patter of blood from your body. Suguru and Satoru stared at what happened in front of them, shocked that what Gojo said had ellicited such a response.

Kenjaku pulled your assaulting hand away, holding it in a death grip with the one he could control. The blood dripped down his face as he used his reverse cursed technique to heal the head wound, cracking the sides of his neck after he healed your head and his brain.

"Wow, I can't believe [name] went straight for the kill." Kenjaku laughed to himself. "But that's all there is to it. The soul and body are one, aren't they? Don't think this will happen again." He chuckled and waited for the hand to calm itself.

"Oh, and did you know [name] wrote a letter to each of you? Including Shoko. They knew they'd die so they hid it away in the school. I think they hid it somewhere important for each of you. Even they don't quite remember." Kenjaku couldn't quite recall what the contents of the letters were as the memory itself was fuzzy. He wanted to see it as their strong friendship strained due to his taking over of [name]'s body.

He wondered why this specific memory was blurred out, and he couldn't recall anything from your memories about this specific thing?

It was like you were deliberately making sure you didn't remember it, and deleted the memory from your head so no one could find the letters.

A letter? The strongest duo's eyes narrowed at the imposter in their dead best friend's body, wondering if it's a part of their tricks. But it was also hard to not believe them, since they look like you. And everything about you, they would believe.

Because you were the type of person who would write letters to them.

"I don't know what they say, but they've been there since before [name] died." Kenjaku tapped his temple, "If you can get out of here, I implore you to find them."

That pissed the two off. Kenjaku was implying they wouldn't get out of this alive, or at least, to see the letters that were supposedly left for them. It pissed them off to no end, and they prepared to battle, not wanting to take part of his nonsense any longer.

Dear Satoru,

I'm glad to have met you. I love you. I love Suguru. I love Shoko. I love everyone. We had so many fun times, and it was the best time of my life. Everything was so bright, cheery and brought me so much happiness, I can't even tell you the extent of it.

I hope you don't mind this letter. If you've found it after I've defected or after I'm dead, I can't express with words how much doing this pains me. If I can't use my words, I have to use my actions, right? I hope you don't forgive me for what I've done. It's unacceptable and you have every right to hate me. I've killed innocent people for the purpose of my goal. Horrible, right? I really hope you won't forgive me.

But I know you. You will. You're just that kind of person.

I'll miss your bright blue eyes and white hair. I'll miss your loud and boisturous personality. I'll miss how your heart races every time I hug you. I'll miss you nuzzling into my head when we hug. I'll miss the soft 'sweet dreams' you say every time you carry me to bed after I fall asleep studying. I'll miss when you take photos of me everyday. I'll miss your annoyingness. I'll miss your teasing words every day. I'll miss your blushing cheeks when you're embarrassed. I'll miss your comical, over the top reactions. I'll miss you eating a whole bunch of sweets in one setting. I'll miss the crepe shop we'd often go to. I'll miss how you make me feel safe. I'll miss your voice. I'll miss you.

If reincarnation exists, I want to meet you again. I want to see your smile again. I want to call you 'toru again. I want to give you the biggest hug, and feel the thrum of your heart racing. Then, I'll give you a kiss on your head, just like you always do to me before I sleep.

You're strong, 'toru. Make sure to stay safe and be careful. I don't want to meet you on the other side so soon. Grow up to be even stronger, and reform Jujutsu's society. I know you can do it!

By the way, I left your favourite recipe of the sweets you liked that I made. That way, you can enjoy them anytime.

Love, [name].

P.S. Don't eat so many sweet things at once!!! I don't want you getting cavities!!!

Dear Suguru,

You were the first one to notice anything going on, and for that, I'm grateful. I'm sorry I brushed you off so coldly. I didn't know how to ask for help. I wish I'd have listened to your heartfelt words to rely on you a little more.

If you see this, I've probably already defected or I'm dead. But I just want you to know, I love you. I want to see you again. I miss you. I want to hug you and let you know everything I'm thinking. I want you to give me one of your strong hugs, knocking the air out of me. I also equally want your soft, tender hugs, as you whisper comforting words to me. I want to hear your voice again. I want to run my fingers through your hair again and question why you only use soap on it. I want to cook with you again. Have late night discussions. Cuddle. Piggyback rides. Kisses on the cheek. Allowing me to latch onto you like a koala when I'm cold since you run hot. I miss our times together. I miss you.

If reincarnation is real, we will definitely meet again. I want to see you smile from the bottom of your heart, and enjoy the most delicious food! And, if no curses are in that world, then you'll finally have a food you don't like - I'll be willing to lend an ear so you can whisper it to me! I want to cup your cheeks and tell you you've done well, for enduring during tough times and standing right back up. I want to finally give you a piggyback ride, since I was never able to fulfil that wish here. I want to be able to call you Sugu again.

Stay strong, Sugu. Make sure to stay safe. Since I know you hate the taste of curses, I've left the key to my safe with candies that are really good at cleansing the palette. Don't ever let these get into 'toru's hands or else you'll never see them again. I got these custom made just for you, and I've left a note with instructions on where to get it and what special order it was. I was supposed to give it to you sooner, but I left before then. Hope you enjoy them!

Love, [name].

P.S. Please take care of yourself!!! And don't use soap on your hair!!! Use proper shampoo and conditioner since your hair's so pretty!!!

Dear Shoko,

I'm sorry you probably had to see my dead body.

If I had spilled my heart out to you about my troubles, I wonder if it would've helped? I kept things bottled up for too long and it's become like this. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep our promise. We didn't get to go to Disneyland like we promised all those months ago - the tickets are just sitting somewhere rotting away. I really wanted to go with you, Sugu and 'toru. It would've been great fun, and we would've made so many memories.

I miss your voice, Shoko. I miss your laugh. Your insults. Your frankness. Your weirdness. Your chillness. You. Heck, I even miss your scent of smoke. I miss you so much. I want to see you.

Can I meet you again? In a world without curses, where we don't need to risk our lives and watch our loved ones die. If I ever get reincarnated, can you find me? Or I can find you? I want to enjoy our times together again, feel the breeze against our skin, sing joyfully, joke around, play around, and take many photos together. That's the only way I want to spend it - and I want it so much you don't even know. In that kind of world, we can finally be happier. We can finally smile geniunely. I'll be able to finally see you again.

I bought some smokes for you and it's in my safe. Suguru has the key. Take some of the candies too, they might help in cleansing your palette every now and then.

I love you.

Love, [name].

P.S. Too much smoking isn't good for you!!! Please quit or at least do it a little less!!! I worry for your lung health...

Trembling hands read their letters as they were found around Jujutsu High school. It had your cursed energy as a seal, but the minute it was touched by any of the three, the seal would break. The letter itself was blank, with a couple of pages for each of them. The words appeared once they injected their cursed energy into it.

Words written by you appeared on the page, covering all the pages given for each letter. As the trio read the letters you had kept hidden from them, they couldn't help but let their unshed tears fall.

They were all known as strong sorcerers who don't cry. But, you brought them to their knees with your sincerity, and you were lost too soon. It was the last thing they had from you, and the warmth in every word of those letters struck a chord deep in their hearts, remembering 10 years ago and the day you had died.

"I kept [name]'s room clean," Suguru started, his eyes glossy. He had already cried, but every time he wanted to read the words off the letter, he was ready to cry again. He didn't want to. "Everything's the same."

It was as if they went down memory lane. Nothing had changed in your room. It was just as Geto said, it was exactly the same.

Whenever Geto had some time, he would clean your room, just like how he knew you would like it. It was something he sometimes did if he stayed over to help you study or just to hang out. So, he knew where everything was.

Immediately going to the safe, he put in a random number, guessing your birthday, then he used the key entrusted to him and unlocked it.

"What a bad password..." Geto couldn't help but laugh lightly, but his laughter died in his throat when he opened the safe.

The first thing the three of them saw was a couple of picture frames, each of them with pictures of the four of them that they remember taking when they were younger. The photos where all of them were happy, grinning and had no care in the world, it made their throats dry, clamming up uncomfortably.

Geto picked up the picture frames, taking a closer look at them with Shoko.

"Oh, look, there's more." Gojo peered in, seeing the promised recipe, bag of lollies, Disneyland tickets and smokes from each of their letters. He took them out and handed them what was gifted.

As they examined the items, Gojo read the recipe, a page written neatly by you. It was as if he could imagine you sitting in your room, writing it just for him while you tasted the different variations that you recommended in the recipe.

Geto put the photos face down, falling flat on his back on your bed as his arm covered his eyes.

Shoko stared at him for a moment, deciding to join him by doing the same thing. Your bed was only a double bed (you had requested a bigger bed for your first paycheck) and didn't have that much space for the three of them, much less four.

Seeing the two of them do the exact same thing, Satoru joined them, but instead, he sat up against your headboard, laying his legs in a cross legged position.

He fipped the picture frames back up, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he basked in the silence and warmth of your room he was so familiar with.

He closed his eyes, and like the others, thought of you.

Would it have been different had you told them everything you were feeling? If you talked through exactly what was causing you grief, and what could be done about it? Were they not enough to help you back up? Would you have felt so suffocated that you chose to die? Would you have still died in their arms? Would Kenjaku have still taken over your body? Still left them behind?

They say sorcerers don't die without regrets.

And they knew if they died, their one and only regret would be you.

At a certain crepe shop, Gojo Satoru waited for his crepe, one he decorated with strawberries, whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate. It was one he used to frequent with his old friend, and he'd come here every week with them to buy a crepe. It wasn't the order he normally went with, but today, he felt nostalgic.

It had been so long since the last time he had visited the crepe shop with you, but it remained fresh in his mind even after reincarnating many times over. What timeline was he in now? He counted 7. That was 7 lifetimes without you. Suguru & Shoko were also counting, and they did whatever they could to find out where you would be. But, each and every one after their first, you were nowhere to be found.

Suguru & Shoko would sometimes come to the crepe shop, but they were also busy making a living in a world without curses. The tragedy from their first life remained fresh in their current ones, holding them so strongly they didn't want to give up.

But unknown to them, you were right under their nose all along, and you frequently went to that same crepe shop at times just before or after they were there, a mysterious force pushing you to the place.

It was at one time, where Satoru thought he saw you, that it reignited the flame that had been dormant for so long, to finally see you, after so many timelines and lifetimes apart.

Your voice, followed by your laughter, and your hand. He had you memorised, and he was so thankful for his good memory that recognised you. It was the closest he got, and when he heard you, saw a part of you, he was sprinting, but you had already disappeared onto the train, and the last thing he saw was the back of your head.

It was brief, but it was enough for his mind to go overdrive and let the others know his findings, that it was possible for them to find you this lifetime, and the crepe shop was the biggest key to it all.

And, when they cracked the code and finally found you, all the memories, feelings and thoughts from their original life came back to them, allowing them to finally see you in a world without curses, even if they had to wait 7 lifetimes.

If they had to put it into years, those 7 lifetimes were equivalent to over 600 years of not seeing you.

But, this lifetime, they finally found you.

Over 600 years in the making, and you also found them.

A/N: I CRIED WRITING THIS. It hurt me 😭 here's part 2!

There's also somewhat of a prequel as well from Geto's POV if you were interested!

Here's also an AU in an alternate timeline with information that takes place directly after the original timing here.

If y'all want some fluff here's the masterlist for the rest of the series 🕊️

551 notes · View notes

tsxkkis · 1 year ago

Text

# tsukishima kei - no words exchanged

a/n = i had two bigger tests today and i studied for both of them a lot BUT i think i did well?? let's hope so cuz i'll die if i end up failing them fr... ALSO idk abt this one cuz i didn't have much time to write lately (which resulted in me being dissatisfied with everything i write) but i hope you like it anyways ^^

summary = a school project finally bonds you with the tall blonde from your friend group.

warnings = none tbh, except for kinda ooc tsukki?

if someone had no bigger knowledge of tsukishima kei as a person, they would immediately assume he was greatly annoyed by your presence.

your rambling seemed to not have an end, the excitement in your voice and sparkly eyes clearly indicating just how into the conversation you really were. tsukishima glanced over to your side for a spare second, the sight of you happily explaining something to hinata and yamaguchi in a high-pitched voice gracing his eyes, taking in every bit of emotion in your face, every word you said.

ever since you became karasuno's manager along with yachi, tsukishima has been stuck with that weird feeling inside his gut, one that he so desperately tried to get rid of from the very moment he made notice of it. he couldn't afford himself to waste time on such stupid things as love; or maybe, more precisely, he didn't want to admit to himself he was actually feeling that way towards someone.

on the contrary, you actively thought that tsukishima kei hated you.

for you, the quick glances he stole your way were nothing but an indicator of being annoyed by the amount of words that left your mouth, and it didn't help you were the only person he never directed his snarky comments to. in fact, he didn't even speak to you, almost at all; aside from an occasional small talk with him and yamaguchi or greeting you at school.

out of your entire friend group, it was always the most awkward between you two, a surprising fact when you considered that even someone such as kageyama talked with tsukishima more in his life than you have. and if you were being completely honest, it made you a tad bit sad.

and if things couldn't get worse than they already were, a project for chemistry class with random partners hit you like a smack to the face.

"it's a good thing, though, don't you think so, yamaguchi?" yachi's voice echoed from beside you, the dark-haired boy giving her a nod and a little hum in response. "maybe the two of you will finally bond a little."

"yeah, if we even exchange a word." you murmured, feet carrying you to your locker as you took out the books you needed for your next class.

you couldn't deny that maybe yachi was right. maybe it was the chance you needed to finally break the ice of awkwardness between you two, to finally act like actual friends.

as you parted your ways with yachi, the blonde girl going to her class, your eyes caught a glimpse of a different blonde, much taller, walking out of the bathroom and towards you and yamaguchi.

"[name]."

you almost flinched at the sound of your name from his mouth, and yet something in the way he said it sounded so warm and familiar. your eyes met his as you fully turned your body around towards the boy, head turned slightly upward as you waited for him to continue speaking.

"we should probably meet after school sometime this week to do the project."

you fiddled with your fingers as you stood in tsukishima's doorway, an unsure look on your face as you tried your best not to overthink the situation too much. it couldn't go wrong, right? it's just a project for school. maybe you and him will actually get along.

as you caught a glimpse of tsukishima's frame on the other side of the door, a small smile appeared on your face, the boy waiting for you to take off your shoes before motioning for you to follow him, heading inside his room.

not a word exchanged.

his room was none other than what you expected it to be; everything was neat and organized, and it looked almost untouched. as you sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes still roaming through the unfamiliar place you were in, a small detail occurred to you.

"you have a collection of dinosaur figurines?"

tsukishima tried to hide his embarrassment, but it was evident the second you noticed how the tips of his ears turned red when hearing your question.

"so what?" he cleared his throat, voice as nonchalant as possible as he opened his laptop, sitting down at his desk.

"nothing." you mumbled, eyes following his movements. "i think it's sweet."

he only hummed in response, fingers swiftly moving across the keyboard as he typed in something into the internet, silence taking over the room; so thick you doubt you would've been able to cut it with a perfectly sharpened knife.

ten minutes passed, and tsukishima still didn't seem even remotely interested in starting a conversation with you, a fact that both annoyed and worried you. ignoring the "bonding experience" yachi mentioned it could be for you two, you also had a school project to do.

and that project wasn't even touched yet.

"you know, if you didn't want to work with me, you could've always switched partners."

tsukishima, although taken aback by your question, gave you only a slight shrug in response, seated with his back facing you.

"i wanted to work with you." his words confused you, eyes glued to the back of his purple t-shirt as you tried to process what he could possibly mean by that.

"you hate me, though." you mumbled, barely loud enough for the blonde haired boy to hear you. this time, he did turn around to face you; and as much as you tried, you couldn't exactly understand the emotions behind the expression he had. he looked like he didn't believe what he just heard and, to some extent, that was the truth.

his eyes were fixated on your face, a rare occurrence considering that most of the time the two of you wouldn't even share eye contact.

"i don't."

"you don't really do anything to prove that."

he sighed, hand instinctively going to brush through his hair.

"i'm not used to having friends." his words echoed through the room. "let alone friends like you."

you didn't quite understand what he meant, looking at him with a confused look painted on your face.

"you're loud, and annoying, and you talk so much it makes me wanna throw myself out the window." his words hit you like a knife through your heart. the remains of a faint smile immediately dissapearing from your face. but from what it looked like, he wasn't close to being done talking.

"and yet i can't seem to hate you at all. you make all those traits seem like the most loveable things on the planet."

he stopped for a couple of seconds, as if trying to decide what to say next. tsukishima wasn't used to talking a lot, and talking to you greatly stressed him, as much as he wanted to deny it.

"i don't hate you, [name]. don't make me repeat myself again." he finally added, trying to come back to his usual, cold demeanor. but you could still feel the bits of softness left in his voice, the faintest shade of pink gracing his cheeks.

you smiled, seeing as he turned back to his laptop, typing away again.

"i won't, don't worry." you said, standing up to look at whatever tsukishima was writing down, a grin on your face. "but i am telling kageyama about your dinosaur figurine collection."

he turned to you abruptly, a sight of annoyance mixed with an amused smile on his face, almost as if he enjoyed the playful comment from you.

"don't you even dare."

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

#tsxkkis #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

696 notes · View notes

doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou · 8 months ago

Text

Protecting French Fry

Oiled Paintings (1)

> melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

> requested? maybe?

> content/warnings: mentions of violence

> a/n: this got me staring at the wall for 4 hours 😭 i rlly don't know if this can compete with the first part

Contrary to popular belief that French people were extremely rude; Mr. Morton thinks that the lone French in their school have been nothing but nice and cheerful. Unfortunately, Mrs. Microft and most of the 7th to 8th grade teachers did not share the same sentiment. Thus, leaving them to tolerate the rude welcome and treatment of the senior teacher towards you, and that went on for the whole five years you’ve been in Abbott.

“Good morning, Mrs. Microft!” You greeted the senior teacher with a smile. And although she paid no attention to your presence and your greeting, you maintained your composure and left your lunch inside the fridge, then went on with your day.

Yet, when you came back to the lounge for lunch, you found no remnants of your lunch; even the container was gone. Deciding to let this slide, like the other mistreatment you got from the senior teacher, you sighed and took your purse to eat lunch at the coffee shop near the school.

“Damn, Y/N. That is wild; I didn’t think white racism would be prominent here; guess I was wrong.” Ava gave you a pat on the back while sipping her coffee. “This coffee is also wild! Y��all gotta try this new coffee maker I got for the school!”

Barbara and Melissa gave Ava a look before giving you sympathetic glances. This made you roll your eyes at Ava. “Stop looking at me like that; that was about three years ago.”

“If y’all ever want to plot revenge, I got her address somewhere in my office. I ain’t helping you look though,” said Ava, leaving all of you to think for reasons you haven’t reported her to HR yet.

“I’m just glad she left; with no one to torment me now, maybe the other teachers will also treat me like a colleague.” You straightened your posture and gave a clap. The smile on your face was so contagious, it took Melissa turning her back to you and looking at Barb to hide her smile.

“Doubt that.” Mr. Morton always knew when to rain on your parade. His comment made Melissa’s face turn serious.

“And why’s that, huh? Y’know any more teachers that’ll torment French fry here?” Melissa tilted her head towards you while still looking at Mr. Morton. While the protectiveness was appreciated, you couldn’t help but blush at the nickname that the redheaded teacher gave you. Ever since knowing that you were French, the Italian made it her daily routine to criticize your lunch, whether it was homemade or a takeout from the local French restaurant.

Sitting down on the nearest chair, Mr. Morton nodded and opened his lesson plan. “That girl, new hire, Charity Microft.”

The hand supporting your face fell on the table with a bang, making Melissa and Barbara look at you incredulously. With your eyes as wide as saucers, you gave Mr. Morton a horrified look. “What do you mean, Charity Microft? As in, Charity Microft the girl I talked to you about? Or Charity Microft the successor of Mrs. Microft the she-devil?”

“Both.” Letting out a cry, you hid your face from your ‘friends’ if you could call them that and huffed.

Janine, the ever-caring human that she is, caressed your back for a solid second before she saw Melissa giving her a glare, making her pull her hand away from you and whisper something to Jacob. Whatever Janine said, it made Jacob choke in fear when he glanced in Melissa’s direction.

As Barbara was about to say something to Melissa, the bell rang, making the kindergarten teacher sigh and give Melissa a look that said. ‘We’ll talk later’.

Nodding her head, Melissa stood up and pulled your arm. "C'mon, French fry, let’s get you to your classroom. We’ll talk later.”

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

Your ‘talk’ didn’t happen. In fact, Melissa left before you and Barb could even catch her. She only saw Ava before leaving with a grin.

“What do you mean she left flexing her arm?”

Sighing, Ava dropped her foot from the table and leaned forward. “Look, I ain’t snitching why she left that way or why she went here before leaving.”

Huffing, you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “And why is that, Ava?”

“She’ll beat my ass,” Ava said before shooing both of you out of her office.

Pursing her lips, Barbara turned to you and gave you a pat on the shoulder. “Now, I need to leave. My Gerald and I have a schedule at that French place you told us about. But after that, I’ll try to get a hold of Melissa, and then I’ll call you to tell you what I gathered.” Then she left, leaving you to contemplate whether to call Melissa on your own or wait until tomorrow. You decided on the latter.

Groaning, you stomped towards your Harley-Davidson Pan America 1250. Your mother harbored great disdain for your choice of vehicle, and your father was extremely happy when you told him you bought a bike rather than a car. He even went all out to message you every detail about riding motorcycles in America and how it differed from riding a motorcycle in France.

As you drove our normal route, you thought you saw Melissa’s car parked on the street a block away from you, but you shook your head and thought there was no way she lived that close to you. Parking your vehicle in front of your house, you jumped repeatedly, a tradition you caught on to because of your father back in France. Your father told you that jumping just outside your home left the awful things that latched onto you that day outside.

Stepping inside your house, you were greeted by your cat purring around your leg and nipping your toes to get your attention. Laughing, you gave your cat a pat on the head. “Okay, okay. Mommy’s going to give you treats once she gets out of these uncomfortable clothes.”

But you didn’t get to change your work clothes. A knock souned through your house walls before you could walk into your room. "Oh, come on!” You stomped towards the door and pulled it open. “What do you want?”

“Hey hon,” said a redheaded woman holding a baseball bat covered in shards of glass and red paint. What you hoped was red paint.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter

202 notes · View notes

ivanttakethis · 6 months ago

Note

top 5 worst ivan mischaracterizations ( aka could you list five worst traits people give him that are just totally wrong) i love to hear people complain but if you don't want to you can ignore this ask have a good day

Anon I am SO glad that you asked!

Ivan is my favorite character in Alien Stage because he’s really complex.

I could talk about him and his characterization/mischaracterization all day and still have more to say after that. Now you’ve given me the perfect opportunity to write a bunch of my thoughts down.

These complaints are in no particular order and are ultimately subjective.

Also, I’m not a Patreon supporter, so I can’t comment on anything that might’ve been confirmed or debunked over there.

Top 5 Worst Ivan Mischaracterizations:

Ivan is an unfeeling and emotionless person

Ivan was trying to kill himself and Till during Round 6

Ivan hates Mizi

Ivan is arrogant

Ivan is violent

This is going to be a long one, so I’m putting everything under the cut. Let’s begin!

1. Ivan is an unfeeling and emotionless person.

I find this mischaracterization to be one of the most frustrating because there is so much evidence to the contrary.

As a child, Ivan is described as someone who struggles to express his emotions and connect with others (imo he’s neurodivergent-coded, but that’s a whole other discussion). But notably we’re not told that he doesn’t experience emotions.

This official art kills me every time I see it because it shows that Ivan knows he’s different from the other children and that it probably makes him stick out and he wants to fit in somehow so he tries to practice/fake it so maybe he won’t be so alone (the imitating behavior is also coded imo).

Beyond all of that, we see plenty of times throughout the series that he feels things, rather intensely even. He’s wistful about the stars and meteor showers and the thought of freedom. He has a curious nature, observing others, wanting to learn more about how they work; how he can emulate them.

And then there’s all of the feelings that well up when it comes to Till. The most obvious is that Ivan loves Till, in his own fucked up way. But there’s more to it.

He wanted attention from Till (maybe the first time he’s ever wanted something in that way). He did everything he could just to get Till to even so much as glance in his direction. All of the fighting, and the bickering, and the instigating was because Ivan craved reciprocation. He grew obsessed.

When Ivan managed to free both himself and Till, he was thrilled!

And when Till let go of Ivan’s hand to return for Mizi, he was very clearly heartbroken.

Ivan felt jealous of Mizi and Sua’s relationship, knowing that he would never have that chance with Till.

Ivan felt lonely because he thought Sua was just like him, only to realize that wasn’t true (because Mizi loved Sua back) and he had no one to relate to.

Also, the entirety of Black Sorrow?? Hello??? He was yearning for more than what he could get. He was resigned to his minuscule place in Till’s life. The song is full of mourning and sadness and grief.

In Round 6, I believe Ivan knew what he was going to do.

He was desperate for anything he could get from Till in his final moments. I think that’s part of why he kissed Till. If his only goal was to deliberately lose, why not skip the kissing and go straight to choking?

Ivan was a dying man overwhelmed with emotion and he desperately wanted Till to look at him, see him, make him feel content for the first (and last) time in his life.

Even if some of these emotions are not necessarily healthy, it shows that Ivan was capable of feeling something.

So… yeah. That’s why I really dislike the emotionless characterization of Ivan. There’s so much depth to his emotions and character, but some people just skim the surface and reduce him down to nothing more than a cold and stoic person.

2. Ivan was trying to kill himself and Till during Round 6.

This one is probably more often a misunderstanding than a mischaracterization of Ivan. I think some people may have seen IvanTill referred to as “toxic” or “obsessive” love when it came to how Ivan felt and behaved around Till and thought Ivan was on some “if I can’t have you, no one can” shit, but that completely ignores the wider context of his character. Ivan was devoted to Till to a fault.

To Ivan, Till was his reason for being. Till was his universe. His god. Till was something to be revered, protected, and worshipped. Ivan couldn’t live without Till. That’s why he sacrificed himself, so he wouldn’t have to continue on in a world without him in it. But he also wanted to protect Till, no matter the cost.

Pretty much everything Ivan did was to protect or care for Till: trying to escape Anakt Garden with him, watching over him after Till was attacked by the aliens in the club, freeing him from his collar over and over and over again, every chance Ivan got.

Nothing about Ivan’s feelings or behaviors toward Till suggests that he would ever harm him, let alone kill him. There’s a reason why when Ivan was “choking” Till it didn’t look like he applied any pressure, there was no struggle for air on Till’s end (even if he had mentally given up, physically there will be some sort of reaction to having your airway compressed), and we don’t see any marks on Till’s neck afterwards.

It didn’t matter what happened to Ivan as a result. Till was the only person who mattered to him.

He would do anything for him. He would quite literally rather die than have anything happen to his god.

Ivan only ever knew how to give all of himself to Till, giving up his life was inevitable.

3. Ivan hates Mizi

I’ve seen this one more so in fan fiction, usually for angsty circumstances, but this just completely sidesteps their canon relationship, which is positive and, dare I say, friendly.

He gave her piggyback rides when they were kids! In the lead up to Alien Stage, we see them chatting and Ivan being pleasant towards her in a sort of “big brother” type way without hiding some sort of darker emotion behind it.

Now, is Ivan envious of the relationship Mizi has with Sua? Yes. Does he hate that he’ll never get to have the connect they have with Till? Yes. But Ivan hasn’t given any indication that he hates Mizi herself. And I think that’s an important element of his characterization.

Yes, he has negative feelings surrounding Mizi, but he never takes them out on her or lets himself feel negative towards her as a person.

Edit: I started writing this section BEFORE we got the official art of Ivan hanging out with Mizi, but holy fuck am I glad I took so long to finish this because now it’s canon that Ivan got along well with Mizi and they were even close as kids despite the fact that Ivan loved Till and Till loved Mizi.

In conclusion, Ivan and Mizi were reasonably close and (imo) would’ve been besties in slightly different circumstances. Ivan is NOT a Mizi hater!!

4. Ivan is arrogant

Yes and no. On the surface, Ivan comes across as mature, confident, and in some cases arrogant, but as we see more from his perspective it quickly becomes clear that the arrogance is just a mask he wears for others.

Deep down, Ivan is very insecure and his self-esteem is almost nonexistent. He views himself as insignificant, twisted, unworthy. He vilifies everything that he feels and does. (“Thank you for being a victim of my shallow emotions” anyone?) Ivan fully convinced himself that Till wouldn’t give a shit about him if he died to keep him alive. That’s not the behavior of an arrogant person. Far from it.

His arrogant mask acts as a shield to keep others from seeing the monster he thinks he is. He’s even kept parts of himself out.

I think that’s also where his tendency to be an asshole comes from. Keeping people away, not wanting or knowing how to drop the arrogant mask, internalizing everything, projecting onto others (like that whole talk with Sua about self sacrifice).

So basically:

Characterizing Ivan as an insecure person who hides behind false confidence/arrogance to keep people from seeing the real (and somewhat fucked up) him? Great. Fantastic. Love to see it.

Characterizing Ivan as an arrogant asshole “just because”? Terrible. Hate it. You burned my crops and killed my cow.

5. Ivan is violent

I don’t know how this one came about, but it rubs me the wrong way so I’ll touch on it here.

We know Ivan instigated physical fights with Till when they were kids because that was the only way to consistently get Till’s attention (not saying I condone that btw). But outside of that, I don’t think Ivan has been violent with anyone else? And would he even be violent with Till like, recently?? I would say no.

Now I do think Ivan would resort to violence to protect Till, but nothing beyond that. I don’t don’t even think he would use violence to protect himself.

He’d probably just revert back to being a “perfect” obedient pet to avoid or diffuse confrontation. That’s what he did as a child; while Till fought back every chance he got. Till’s fighting spirit is probably one of the things Ivan loved about him. Maybe in part because he couldn’t find it in himself.

————————————————————

Anyways, those are my Top 5 worst Ivan mischaracterizations! Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk 🖤💙

#thank you for letting me yap about ivan anon #mwah mwah #sorry i took so long to answer i had a lot to say lol #alien stage #alien stage ivan #alnst #alnst ivan #alien stage round 6 #alnst round 6 #ivantill #alnst ivantill #alien stage ivantill #if you squint #ivanttakethis talks too much #ivanttakethis answers

116 notes · View notes

jasmineoolongtea · 4 months ago

Note

Hiiii how ya doing? I'd like to req a Megumi X Reader plsss. Smth where the reader is super shy and antisocial (could be due to trauma or their own experience whatever works for you) so they're mostly by themselves because they choose to and avoid people unless it's training and even so they're just alone (or with a mentor IDK). Still, everyone tries to get close to them and Megumi seems like he doesn't care but he does little gestures to make sure reader is comfortable and reader appreciates that a lot. IDRK how to describe this anymore but this is the big picture for me. The rest is up to you. I'M SRY IF THIS LOOKS CONFUSING BUT THXXXXX

a/n: hii anon, i'm doing alright !!! (just kinda busy this week ;-; so sorry for the delay in responding to this) hope you're doing well too !! don't worry i totally get what you mean so i hope that this lives up to your vision 🫡🫡🫡

if most people had to describe you, the word 'loner' or a more polite 'shy' would probably be thrown around a lot with other vague descriptors that only scratched the surface of who you were as a person, but to you, that was the least of your worries.

it was better this way. honestly, was it so wrong to want to keep people at arm's length? contrary to popular belief, there's merit to be found in being alone and you just wish that others had the same understanding that you did.

a 'how are you doing' here and 'wow, the weather's pretty cloudy today' there and you can already feel your energy being sucked away like there was some sort of energy vampire following you around. getting invited to places as a part of a large group was even worse as you were forced to spit out a pathetic excuse that you were sure would leave them wincing from just how bad and thinly veiled it was.

in a better-case scenario, they would pass on an apologetic smile your way before clumsily making their escape away from you and that would be the last you'd hear of them for a while. in worse cases, and unfortunately the more common one from your own personal experiences, their previously friendly faces would quickly morph into a snarl with all of their old pleasantries going out the window as they scurry away from you, though not before throwing some... colourful words and jabs in your direction before they disappear out of your earshot.

you once heard a phrase that sums up conversations like this perfectly; 'water cooler conversations', conversations that are only born out of the belief that silence between people is bad and that superficial, surface-level talk is the better alternative which is a notion you strongly disagree with.

albeit, you know deep down it would be wrong to fault them as after all, they only had nothing but good intentions. however, good intentions can only carry you so far when the recipient isn't necessarily the most willing participant.

at times, some people would just try to strong-arm you into a friendship with them, whether it be figuratively or literally, and those were almost always the most intense and ironically, short-lived ones. there were some who would just flail the moment you stopped responding to them. sure it was awkward, but at least you had the benefit of silence. with others, it felt like looking into the sun and the longer you stared at them, the more likely you're going to end up with a sunburn and the more you missed the comfort of the darkness that you've become so accustomed to.

but with megumi, it was different, in a good way.

with megumi, things felt... easy, for lack of a better word. you didn't feel like you had to force on a polite grin or shallow laugh for appearance's sake. every word, expression and reaction with megumi was raw, genuine and natural and suffice to say, you craved this more than you were willing to admit.

exchanges with megumi were largely wordless most of the time with more being said in between the silence that the two of you frequently shared with one another. it was like you two had your own secret language which was spoken through brief touches and lingering glances and that if you blinked, you would have missed it.

after a particularly rough training session (no thanks to the boiling heat of the midday sun), you find yourself more exhausted than usual to the point where you simply collapse on the nearby bench in a boneless pile.

when you look up, you're met with the sight of an outstretched hand holding a drink, your favourite drink no less, in your direction. the sun's shining right in your eyes so you have to squint slightly to get a better look at the good samaritan that has managed to stumble on you in this state and are surprised to find out that it's someone you're more than well acquainted with.

turns out, it's megumi who's offering you salvation in the form of a bottled drink and you eagerly accept his offer (albeit a bit more eager, which almost veers on the side of desperation, than you were hoping to come off as). for a brief moment, your fingers brush against his as you reach forward to grab it and maybe it's a trick of the light, but you swear you catch a glimpse of the tips of his ears turning bashfully red.

you take a sip of your drink and a grateful sigh escapes your lips. he's not looking in your direction, seemingly more interested in something far off in the distance, however, his shoulders visibly relax and his whole posture loses its once-tensed-up stance once the sigh leaves your lips. his hand hangs awkwardly by his side and for some reason, you're met with the sudden urge to grab it and you wonder what it would be like to hold it - would it be calloused and rough from years of training or would it be surprisingly soft and relatively scar-free despite your lifestyles - but you quickly shake those thoughts away in an attempt to fight the butterflies that flap around in your stomach.

instead, you settle for a tap on his arm which gets him to turn towards you, a curious expression painted on his face as you pat the spot beside you. a silent invitation for him to join you there. he pauses for a moment, as if weighing the decision in his mind before relenting and taking you up on your offer. you don't say it but this is your silent thank you to him and you know he understands you because that's just who he is.

once seated, you're suddenly met with the burning heat of the sun again and you realise that megumi was purposefully standing in the way of the sun for you and was using himself as your own personal source of shade. another little gesture from him to you.

there he goes again, you think to yourself. you're not sure how he does it but it's like he has an uncanny ability to anticipate your needs, sometimes even before you realise it yourself. furthermore, megumi never asks anything from you, not even a verbal thank you, seemingly just content with being able to be near you.

it's a bit confusing if you're going to be honest. to someone who's so used to being perceived as either a social pariah or as someone who can be used for the benefit of others, you're not sure why he keeps on doing all these things for you and why you find yourself being so drawn to him despite everything but you choose not to push it.

deep down, you know that you're scared that if you question it, then it'll just be nothing more than a nice dream that the universe has allowed you to indulge in for a bit but that's a topic for another day.

seeing that the sun is deciding to be very stubborn today and is not easing up on the strength of its rays, you search around the largely abandoned training field by now for a more shaded place and spot a small clearing underneath a tree on the opposite side. you stand up, startling megumi slightly as he jolts upright, and open your hand towards him. he looks at your hand and at you, his gaze drifting up and down before gingerly reaching out and taking your hand in his.

you're right, his hand is softer than you were somewhat expecting though it's a pleasant surprise nonetheless, and make your way towards the shaded area as he trails behind you with your hands connecting you two together like paper dolls. now under the cool canopy of the leaves above you, the heat is much more bearable and you take a seat with your back against the tree trunk.

you let go of his hand as you do this and he quickly follows suit, though this time, instead of allowing there to be a small space between you, he sits right next to you to the point where if you allow yourself to lean right ever so slightly, your shoulders are going to brush against his. even more shockingly, you feel a warm presence on top of your hand and when you look down, you see that it's megumi's hand resting on top of yours. you both don't look at each other, perhaps in an attempt to hide the pale dusting of pink that surely adorns your cheeks.

maybe one day, you'll get the courage to break the silence you've grown so comfortable with but for now, this is all you could ask for and more.

#dividers by cafekitsune #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #megumi x reader #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #‧₊˚ ⋅ 🍵 writes #*ੈ✩‧₊🍵 asks #hope you enjoy this anon !!!

116 notes · View notes

theclairvoyage · 4 months ago

Text

Mermaid Purse - Part 2 of 3

I know I said this would be 2 parts, but I couldn't help myself :))

AO3 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Marine Biologist!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Summertime in Clearwater, Florida means no school, which means instead of teaching Marine Biology at a local university, you're bartending at The Rusty Sawfish, a bar located on the marina of Clearwater Beach. The owner's friend, who happens to be a sexy, suarthy Texan contractor, moves to town to start over and help his friend with a project, stumbling across you in the process... and you thought summer in Florida couldn't get hotter.

Warnings for Part 2: Minors DNI! adult language, alcohol consumption, violence, mentions of blood, descriptions of a traumatic injury, sexual tension, reader is female, reader is able-bodied, unspecified age gap, allusions to smut, SMUT!, kissing, fingering (f receiving), ass play (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cuddling

WC: 4.5k

Morning arrives, and the air in your room feels different.

Not because there’s a handsome naked man sleeping next to you, though that’s reason enough— but it’s just a feeling. Like the sunshine peeking through the blinds is brighter, the sound of the ocean more soothing than usual, the chirps and calls of birds beyond the window musical instead of annoying.

And speaking of feeling, as you stir under the sheets, the soreness of your muscles and down there awakens. And the urge to pee.

You sit up in bed and peek at the man next to you, whose usual terse, rugged features are now serene. His face relaxed in slumber, lips pouty and hands folded underneath the pillow, messy curls drooping down to his brow. The rhythmic inhale and exhale of his breath. You wonder what, if anything, he dreams of.

Carefully, you stand from the bed and tiptoe to your attached bathroom. Quietly, you shut the door and flip the light on, looking at your naked figure in the large mirror.

Small hickeys cover the skin on your breasts and around your nipples, though he was smart enough to avoid your neck. Several more hickeys line the inner seam of your thigh, reminding you just how good he is with his mouth. The reminiscence fuels your semi-dormant arousal.

Your skin glows, like a vampire in the sunlight. Your hair points in all directions. And your eyes have a glint of mischief, of whimsey. But you did nothing wrong—quite the contrary. And damn, it felt good.

You step back into your dim bedroom and slip under the covers, still warm from his body heat. Pulling your phone from its face-down position on your nightstand, you check the time. It’s still early, before 7:00 AM.

Joel stirs next to you, grumbling as he moves. You’re not facing him, but you can feel him scooting closer to you. He noses behind your ear as he pulls you flush to his chest.

“Been up long?” he murmurs just beneath your ear, leaving kisses on the soft skin there, working his way down to your shoulder. You talk in between breathy moans.

“No,” you say, “maybe fifteen minutes.”

He hums in approval into your skin, turning you on your back and slotting himself between your legs. You look up at him, astounded—how can he look even better when he’s just woken up, all grunts and messy curls and outgrown stubble?

Though he could say the same for you, how a woman so beautiful could be that way wearing nothing but unkempt hair, soft, glowing skin, and a smile on her face. His fingers caress your cheek before stopping at your mouth, a callused index finger prodding at your lower lip, asking for permission. You grant it, letting it enter your mouth, closing your eyes as you suck softly on his finger.

He growls, removing his finger as he bends down to kiss you. It’s all teeth and tongue and spit—messy, hot, and full of unspoken words. You’re not sure how you made it this far in life without passion as tumultuous as this, like this starts a new chapter for you.

Soon, Joel is kissing his way down your body, stopping to admire his artwork. Licking the red marks softly, his lips and tongue apologizing for their misbehavior last night. Murmuring how you taste so good andhow you’re so beautiful. He looks up at you with those flaming amber eyes, full of more unspoken words as he hooks your knees over his shoulders.

“Joel,” you whine, running a finger through his hair as he tastes you again, a whine that quickly turns into a sharp gasp. He hums in satisfaction into your core as he laps you up, groaning again about how you taste so fuckin’ good.

You’re caught between trying to watch his gorgeous face as he works you into a fit of ecstasy, a picture to savor in your mind, and snapping your eyes shut, back arching off the bed at the sheer pleasure he’s giving you.

Eyes on me, baby, he groans into you, rewarding you with two thick fingers and a third in your ass when you obey. And the stretch hurts, tearing into the sore spots, but only for a moment. And then, it’s white-hot and all-consuming and you feel fucking good.

He coaxes your orgasm out of you slowly, a methodical and gratifying mixture of his mouth and fingers. This isn’t his first rodeo, but he knows how to alter his approach to pull those high, breathy moans and gasps from you, giving himself a gold star when you curse and spit his name. And when you finally come on his face, pulling his hair as your muscles spasm, your vision blurs—white, then black, then white again, fuzzy around the edges.

He continues talking you through it—a couple that’s it, baby and curses and god, you’re fuckin’ beautiful, stopping only when your hips slow their circling, and your thighs relax ever so slightly. But he doesn’t give you a break, no—because that was just the warm up.

And then he’s kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue, asking are you ready for me, baby and can you take it again. And you’re nodding fervently, impatient, needing him inside you even though you haven’t yet come down from your first high. He stares into your eyes as he hikes your legs up and over his hips, lines up with your soaked entrance and pushes in, your faces mirroring one another—mouths agape, breaths paused, foreheads close enough to touch.

You’re so full of him, but not full enough—like you can’t ever get enough of him or his cock. His rhythm is slower than last night, but he’s so deep, so attentive to your needs, like all it took was one time to learn you and your body. He can’t take his eyes off you, arching for him and stuffed and crying and whimpering his name. Like it’s the first time he’s heard his name in his entire life.

And he’s a quiet man, but not while he’s inside you—no, then he never seems to shut up. Making sure you know that you’re taking me so well, again that you’re so goddamn perfect, and of course that you feel so fuckin’ good. You wish you could rewind and replay this moment at your leisure.

The kettle is close to boiling, and he’s asking are you close, sweet girl, though you both know you are with each quick pant that leaves your lungs, the way tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you try to hold on, try to keep your focus on him as he thrusts in and out of you. You nod, too taxed and wound up to speak, vexed by his obsidian eyes. Let go, baby, he urges you, hands cupping your face. Come for me. So, you do.

You vaguely register that he’s again talking you through it, praising you, but you can’t tell if your eyes are still open. He follows suit, spilling his hot spend inside you with a whimper as you squeeze him. He lies on top of you, careful not to crush you, a hand smoothing your sweaty hair from your face.

“Y’alright?” He asks, a lopsided smile plastered on his also sweaty but devilishly handsome face.

“I think so. Haven’t really come back yet,” you reply. Then, he kisses you, slowly and softly, a moment so tender you aren’t sure that it’s real.

Moments pass as you lie there, underneath him and still full of him as he softens. Finally, he pulls out of you as you protest, needing to pee again. When he watches you tiptoe to the bathroom and beckon him to join you in the shower, he’s not so soft anymore.

Most of the next hour is spent with Joel on you, inside you, and he’s surprisingly agile and resilient for his age. You’re raw and tired, but you find yourself needing more and more of him, and he you, like your bodies were made for each other—the perfect fit and chemistry.

Around 10:00 AM, you convince him that it’s time for coffee and sunshine, and he obliges. He dissents to your decision to put some clothes on until he sees that it’s his flannel you’re wearing and fights the urge to bend you over the countertop and fuck you for the fourth time this morning. Later, you tell him, promising him with a kiss.

“No work today?” He asks you, sipping black coffee from a dolphin mug, which he begrudgingly accepted from you. You’re pushing eggs and sausage around a pan, feeling his eyes all but burning holes through the back of his flannel you’re wearing.

“Nope. But I do have work to do. You could join me,” you say, turning around to catch him staring. He cocks an eyebrow at you, interested.

“I’m listenin’,” he says, eyes locked on you as he sips from the mug again.

“I’m doing some research on the shark population in this area. Was going to take a boat out and do some tagging, but I think it’ll be too windy,” you ramble, not facing him directly, but turning halfway between the stove and him so he can hear you over the sizzle of food.

“And?”

“And—,” you start, “Gives me a good opportunity to do some old-fashioned surveying.”

“So… you’re gonna swim?” He asks, propping the mug down, which sounds empty now from the way it echoes on the countertop. You hear him stand from the chair and prod over to you, sliding his hands underneath the front of the flannel, warm on your torso. He kisses the skin in front of your ear before working down your jawline and nearly sucking a mark into your neck.

“Food’s burnin’, sweetheart,” he teases you. The food is done, thankfully, so you move it off the hot burner and onto one that’s off. Joel’s still kissing you, waiting for an answer to his question.

“N-no, no swimming—ah, fuck,” you groan, as one hand squeezes your breast while the other travels further south.

“Distracted, are we?” Joel whispers in your ear, spreading your wet folds. “Still so wet for me,” he marvels.

He turns you around, pushing the flannel apart to uncover your breasts and torso, swirling his fingertip around your clit. You gasp, staring into his burning eyes.

“Joel, the food,” you protest. Your stomach flips when he gets on his knees and spreads your legs with his hand. He leans forward to kiss your thigh, chuckling into the skin there.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby—I’m gonna eat,” he says, pulling your leg over his shoulder and devouring you.

After yet another orgasm and some real breakfast, you finally get to tell Joel your real plan for the day—to take a GoPro and a drone and survey the sharks near parts of the beach. He’s more than happy to accompany you.

Once everything is loaded into his truck, you two make haste for the beach. Windy doesn’t quite cover the conditions out here—and the waves are tumultuous. There are various “beach closed” signs posted on the shoreline, and rightfully so. Wind this fast and waves this high make it easy for swimmers to get knocked over and makes it easier for big marine predators to confuse an unsuspecting person for real prey.

“That gonna be a problem for us?” Joel asks as you two stake out a spot on the dock of the marina.

“Nope. I have my school ID. We have clearance to do research in most conditions—obviously at our own risk,” you tell him, getting the GoPro ready. It might be too windy for the drone.

“So, what’re you lookin’ for out here, darlin’?” He asks, watching you set up the GoPro, a laptop, and an iPad for notes.

“Long story short, I’m surveying the shark population here to see if there have been any changes to the health of the ecosystem,” you explain briefly.

“In layman’s terms, sweetheart,” he teases you, wind whipping his curls about his face. You fish a hat out of your backpack and hand it to him. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Clearwater passed some laws a few years ago to limit fishing and help some endangered shark species recover numbers, so part of our job at the university is to help the city make sure those laws are working—or not,” you explain.

Joel likes watching you talk about this—your childlike zeal, curiosity, and passion make him smile.

“I see why you’re a teacher,” he says, nudging your arm with a smirk. Your cheeks heat.

“Are you making fun of me, Joel Miller?”

“Absolutely not,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you. “I’m kinda amazed, if I’m bein’ honest.”

His confession shocks you. “By me? Why?”

He shrugs before pulling you into his arms, kissing your temple as you settle into him.

“Just somethin’ special about you,” he murmurs into your hair before letting go, tone indicative that he wanted to say more. “Let’s do this thing, eh?”

Giggling, you hand him a spool of thick thread. “This’ll go on the GoPro, and we’ll drop it in. It’s not much, but with humans not being in the water today, we might be able to see some good stuff down here.”

He nods, tying the thread to the GoPro and unspooling several feet. You connect the GoPro to the iPad to make sure it’s capturing video correctly.

“Ready?” You ask him. He makes several tough-looking fancy knots and nods, handing the device to you.

“Must’ve been a Boy Scout,” you tease him, winking. His nostrils flare slightly before he rolls his eyes at you.

“Boy Scout,” he scoffs. “’M self-taught.” You widen your eyes and whistle sarcastically, to which he laughs.

“Alright, let’s drop it here. This is probably 30 feet deep.”

Joel slowly lowers the GoPro into the water, and you both watch the feed as it sinks to the bottom. It’s calmer underneath than it looks from the surface, though still murky. There’s a decent view of the water beyond the dock.

“Now what?” He asks.

“It’s like fishing. We just wait.”

“Now that’s something ‘m familiar with,” he says excitedly, crouching to sit next to you, grunting as he does.

“Are you gonna be able to get back up?” You tease. The rapport between the two of you comes naturally, like you’ve known each other for a while. Joel pinches your side lightly.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

Over the next hour, a variety of fish and sharks swim in front of the GoPro. Red snappers, groupers, sheepshead, cobias, and sea bass make up the majority of the sightings. All of the sharks were either spinners or blacktips, along with the occasional nurse shark.

Joel was amazed by your expertise of marine life. Each question he had was answered and explained clearly by you—and truthfully, you’re always stoked to share your wealth of knowledge about the ocean world. Usually, you have these conversations with Georgia or one of your students—never a romantic partner. Until now, that is.

Suddenly, a big figure approaches the GoPro from some meters away. You grab Joel’s arm and point toward the screen.

“What is it?” He asks, as intrigued by it as you are.

“Not sure, but it’s definitely a shark,” you whisper.

The shark cruises closer to the camera, and the smaller fish swim away from view. The deep body, blunt snout, and elongated pectoral fins tell you that it’s a bull shark. It’s big, but not record-breaking big—likely 6 feet long.

“Oh, fuck,” you marvel, “It’s a bull.”

The two of you observe it swim toward the camera before turning at the last second. These sharks tend to swim in murky waters and cruise near the bottom of shallower waters. They’re notorious for being aggressive and have been responsible for 26 fatal attacks on humans—plus, with one of the strongest bite forces per weight in the animal kingdom, they are not one to spar with.

“I’ve heard ‘bout these guys. Scary,” Joel says.

“They are nothing to mess with, absolutely. Though scary is a relative term,” you say, half-teasing. Joel nudges you again.

“You sayin’ you’d jump down there with that thing?”

“No way. It’s perfect hunting conditions for them. Windy, cloudier waters—easier for them to catch something that has no clue it’s coming.”

Joel whistles. “How can they even see down there?”

“They can sense electrical impulses via these small pores on their face, so anything with a heartbeat can be detected. They also have a keen sense of smell—which is why you should never go in the ocean when you’ve got an open wound. It’s bait, essentially,” you reply seamlessly.

Joel stands abruptly, looking toward the shoreline. Gone is any semblance of joy from his face. He points in that direction.

“So—we’re in trouble, here, darlin’,” he says sternly, pulling your arm gently to alert you.

Oh, no.

Three kids, likely middle school age, have entered the water. No parents or guardians are anywhere to be found, and with the beach closed, there aren’t any lifeguards.

You check the iPad and see the bull shark has noticed them. They’re 100, 150 meters from the dock, in shallow water—perfect placement for the shark. It darts away from view.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, “We have to get them out of there. Now!”

You leave your stuff at the dock and sprint toward the beach, fast footsteps pounding on the wood. Joel follows suit. A dorsal fin carves through the surface of the water, heading directly for the splashing kids.

“Shark! Get out of the water! NOW!” You scream, lungs raw from sprinting and yelling. The kids don’t hear you until it’s too late.

Suddenly, the dorsal fin makes a sharp turn, and one of the kids goes down. The other two shriek and dash toward you and Joel. An eerie cloud of red billows out from where the shark is as it continues thrashing. The water is so shallow that the shark’s caudal fin is visible, splashing as it whips around.

“Joel, call 911!” You screech. He whips out his phone and obeys.

This is the worst possible scenario for a beachgoer. Panic sets in like a late-night freeze and seizes your lungs. The air inside them is trapped, heavy—like it’s turned to sludge. The kid surfaces from the water, a haunting, waterlogged howl escaping his throat. You grab a long net from the lifeguard chair and sprint over. It’s dangerous for you to enter during an attack, but you have no choice if you want to save this kid’s life. You’re ankle-deep now, the bloody water covering your feet.

Quickly, you spot the dorsal fin and stab where you estimate the gills would be as hard as you can with the blunt end of the net. The caudal fin whips around a few times before charging again. You smack the gills as hard as you possibly can once more, and the shark retreats momentarily. You know it’ll come back soon—time to get out.

The kid surfaces again, reaching for you. He can’t be older than 10. Quickly, you pick him up and move as fast as you can toward Joel. His wails and sobs wrack your soul, and you do your best not to cry. You lie him down by Joel, who has taken his flannel off.

A large, angry bite mark on the child’s left lower leg oozes red onto the sand. He’s screaming still, and his friends are sobbing too. Joel steps in with his shirt and ties it above the bite mark to hinder the bleeding. You hold the child’s head in your hands and look directly into petrified, bright blue eyes.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay,” you try to soothe him, “Look at me. Grab my hands.”

The child obeys, though he’s still sobbing and hyperventilating. Joel stays put near the child’s leg, looking at you with a terrified expression.

Sirens blare in the distance before you see a firetruck and two ambulances pull up. Several cop cars follow.

“Breathe,” you command him. “Just breathe, buddy—you’ll be fine. The paramedics are here.”

The boy nods, unblinking, eyes still glued to yours—like looking at you is numbing the pain temporarily, like if he blinks it’ll start hurting again. In this moment, it’s just the two of you. As if healing energy is flowing from your hands to his head, down to his leg—he calms. Logical you knows it’s just adrenaline covering up the pain, but you’re unfazed by it.

Before you know it, the boy is on a stretcher and taken away in the ambulance. They assure you he’ll be fine, commending you for saving his life—but you don’t feel like it. A kid almost died, and now a shark will likely be killed. Deep down, you know it’s to protect the public—but how many animals—and people—have to die before humans understand that the ocean is a wild, unknown, unfriendly, and unforgiving place?

A deep, soothing voice snaps you back to reality, placating your nerves.

“Y’alright, honey?” Joel asks, rubbing your back softly as you both watch the ambulance leave for the hospital. You swallow loudly, your throat bone dry and stinging, like you’ve been crying. You feel him stare at you, but you can’t look at him. Like if you take one look at those rich amber eyes, you’ll lose the composure you’ve had since pulling the young boy out of the shark’s reach.

“Hey, c’mere,” he soothes, pulling you into his chest, arms firm around your back. Finally, you relax and sink into him, and like a string was pulled, the hot, salty tears start flowing.

Joel comforts you as you weep into his shirt. His large hands span up and down your back, smooth your hair, and squeeze you tight so there’s never a moment when you’re not glued to him. S’okay, sweet girl, he whispers in your ear. Y’saved a life. I’m so proud of you.

Time passes as you two stand there like this. You’re not sure how much, but eventually, he pulls back and cups your face in his hands, swiping away the streaks of tears leaking from your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, smiling. It kind of pisses you off how beautiful he is and how even in pain, he conveys so much tenderness and care.

“Hey,” you croak, giggling. Joel laughs, too.

“There she is.”

He leans in and kisses the tears from your chin and cheeks before stopping at your lips. It’s a gesture so poignant, so compassionate that it almost makes you cry again.

“S’go home, yeah? I’ll cook for you. We can do whatever y’want,” Joel offers, wrapping an arm around you as you return to the dock for your equipment.

You look at him, beaming, still so beautiful to him even though you’ve been crying. Rosy cheeks, puffy eyes, frizzy hair. The sight stops his heart, he thinks.

He could get used to this.

It’s late.

You know you should go to bed—you’re exhausted. Eyes bloodshot from crying, forehead sore from constant furrowing, soles of your feet bruised from pounding on the dock at full force. But Joel has other plans.

First, he made you dinner—and it shouldn’t have shocked you that he’s an amazing cook, given that you know he’s good with his hands, but it did. Juicy chicken, creamy mashed potatoes with chicken gravy, and roasted vegetables, all cooked to perfection. My daughter’s favorite, he recollected. A daughter?! The words came out before you processed what he’d said, eyes giant saucers. He’d laughed—Don’t worry, was gonna tell ya.

And then the real getting to know each other happened. He spilled about his divorce, the custody battle, and his perfect daughter who still lives in Texas. And he asked about your family and why you’re estranged, placed a warm hand on your forearm, thumb rubbing the skin there, as you ranted about your deadbeat dad and alcoholic mother, and the saints of an aunt and grandmother who raised you.

Afterwards, you attempted to do the dishes, as a way of thanking Joel for making dinner—but he insisted he’d do it. Lemme take care of you, he grumbled, while looking at you in a way that made you acquiesce. A look that said he’d either kill you or take you back to your bedroom and ravage you.

As you pulled two beers out of your fridge, prepared to enjoy the evening breeze and sunset on the patio, you turned to find the kitchen empty, instead hearing the gush of bathwater filling up the tub.

Joel led you in by the hand, undressed you, got distracted and caressed your skin, and placed a few tender kisses here and there, which made you shiver. Now that y’got goosebumps, get in the tub, he teased you.

He cracked open the beers and sat on the toilet seat, so you weren’t alone, and asked about a thousand more questions—of sharks, of you, of Clearwater. His eyes twinkled when you answered, fixated only on you. The loud rumble of his laugh echoed in the vaulted bathroom, and you wanted to hear it all night, but again he’d insisted it was time to get out of the tub—before y’turn to a damn prune.

And then he put lotion on the spots you couldn’t reach, combed your knotted hair, tucked you in bed before shimmying out of his jeans and shirt and joining you, rubbing the now-moisturized skin on your back and pressing soft kisses to your forehead. Your fingers crept up and down his stomach, getting closer to where you wanted him most each time they followed the dark trail of hair. Y’sure? he asked. We ain’t gotta do anything f’ya don’t want.

But when he looked down at you and saw the way you needed him and heard the way you whined for him, it became inevitable. And he took care of you in a way no other man had or could attempt to, touching the deepest parts of you, making your pleasure his only passion, bringing you to the peak in each position you wanted him to.

He whispered you’re so beautiful, y’look so good on my cock, love bein’ inside you, love hearin’ you say my name into your ear as you cried out his name and pressed half-moon shapes into his skin, clutching him so close you felt his pulse against your own.

And you squeezed him as hard as you could when he said close, baby—I’m so close, until his hips stuttered, and he groaned your name, and painted hot white streaks inside you.

And now—it’s almost midnight. Gil texted and told you to take tomorrow off, and as many more as you needed until you felt ready. You had tons of other texts, no doubt related to the shark attack, but you had no energy to engage them. Thrilled that you have a full day to do nothing, you sunk into the covers, wrapped in the strong arms of a somewhat stranger, and dozed off to sleep.

Taglist: @burntheedges, @tuquoquebrute, @syd-djarin, @danaispunk, @anoverwhelmingdin <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #mermaid purse

53 notes · View notes

theclementinediaries · 1 year ago

Text

The Seven Deadly Sins of the NXX Team

➵ PRIDE best describes Artem, for he takes great pride in everything he does, especially when it comes to work. He would go above and beyond, and would go to great lengths, to ensure that he is always on top of his game. His work is his pride, and his pride is his work, his entire sense of self-worth relies heavily on how well he manages to do his job right.

➵ He has a reputation of having a 99% win rate, so you could imagine how much his pride suffered when he lost in that 1% case. He felt like a failure, like everything that he has worked up to until that point, all of his achievements and success, meant nothing. And for someone, who puts so much value in his career, his success, whose pride mainly stems from his achievements and winning, that really put a dent on not just his pride, but his self worth in general.

➵ Who is he, if not a winner? Who is he, if not the best of the best? Who is he, if he can’t succeed? Would there be any point for his existence if he can’t succeeded, if he can’t become the greatest?

➵ Ultimately, Artem’s pride is his biggest motivator to do better, to be better, but it’s also what eats him up inside, it’s what pushes him over the edge, to the point that it’s hurting him.

➵ Green is the color of ENVY, and that perfectly describes Vyn to a T. Don't get him wrong though, he is not envious of someone having more money, fame, status, or materialistic items than him, far from it actually. Vyn's envy is rooted in seeing people, who have a more full filing happier life than him, especially if they are less fortunate than him.

➵ Of course, as a psychologist expert, he bares no ill well towards people who have it better than him, and on the contrary, he should be happy for those people given his profession. But yet no matter how much he tries not to, he can't help but feel envious of those people, like he resented them for having a life that he fought so hard to obtain, yet it came so natural to them.

➵ His jealousy and envy is one of the reasons why he's so meticulous with his words, never letting anyone ever get too close, for fear that he might uncover something, that he might not like.

➵ For someone who is so happy go-lucky, WRATH really does have a strong hold on Luke. But don't get it twisted, Luke is not angry at anyone at particular, more specifically so, his wrath is directed at himself.

➵ He is so angry at himself, for not being strong enough, for not being good enough, for not being smart enough, but most of all, his angry at himself for not being there for you when you needed him the most.

➵ The anger and wrath that he feels is mostly fueled due to his own shortcomings and inadequacies, and how he expresses that anger is by acting so recklessly, throwing himself into danger, sacrificing himself, again and again. He hopes that his self-sacrifice would compensate for all his failures and shortcomings, he hopes that him throwing his life away would make up the fact that he failed to protect you, failed to give you more time, failed...you.

➵ And most of all, he hopes that his self-sacrifice would help lessen the wrath inside his heart, but it never does, in fact, it only seems to ignite it further.

➵ Now this might sound predictable from the infamous playboy himself, but Marius, is driven by LUST. He likes to indulge in the pleasures of life, whether that be sexual or not, it doesn't really matter to him.

➵ For so long, Marius wanted nothing more than to be free, to live the life that he so desperately wants, and to have the freedom to make the choices that he wants. Those are his deepest desires that he lust for the most.

➵ But sadly, no matter how much Marius lusts over a life of freedom, no matter how many times he wished to indulge in a pleasurable life that not even money can buy, the universe doesn't always give us what we want.

➵ So all Marius has left is to fulfill other people's hopes and dreams, fulfilling other people desires and lust, in hopes that, that would be enough to fill the empty whole inside his heart.

205 notes · View notes

rhey-007 · 1 year ago

Text

I can't help falling in love with you

serial killer!Max Verstappen x reader || 18+ P2

Summary: Moving back to your childhood house was never in your plans, but after your parents' death you couldn't let go of it. After moving in and meeting your new neighbor everything seemed to fall apart, but you're too oblivious to notice the obvious.

Warnings/Tags: 18+, GORE (dismembering), mentions of smut, kidnapping, restraining, torture, violance, female reader, creepy/jealous/yandere Max, cheating

A/N: Max and Lando did so good today in Brazil, but I'm so proud of Nando jdkcjhddnhfjdh 💞 And the hug between him and Checo at the interview 😩 I melted... That's it. That's my A/N. Enjoy!

Wordcount: 3541

༶❃.✮:▹💀◃:✮.❃

Your love life was a misery again after Sergio. You were unable to find someone, while you craved for a normal, romantic relationship after the previous one.

Most of the time after work you’ve spent at Max’s, ocassionally going out to parties with your coworkers. You two layed on his couch, legs tangled together while you played video games, watched races or other things.

Sometimes Daniel joined you too, joking how close you two seemed to be, glued to each other most of the time. But you didn’t see it, you saw your actions just as friendly ones, as well as Max’s. You felt so comfortable aroud him you even told him what happend with you and your parents.

“They were very abusive...”

You blurted out one night, when you layed on top of his chest while you watched some netflix series.

“Not in a physicall way but verbally and emotionally... They were always criticizing and degrading me... Sometimes even threatened me into doing something... I couldn’t have my own opinion, I always had to agree with them no matter what... I couldn’t stand it and run away at 18... It’s cruel but I kind of felt good when I found out they were gone... I know it’s sounds bad... I-I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have told you. Don’t know what came over me...”

You rushed up but were stopped by Max’s hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down.

“It’s okay, I understand. I’m sure you feel better now”

The man hugged you tightly and planted a kiss on the top of your head. You felt so safe...

༶❃.✮:▹💀◃:✮.❃

One day Bethany and Sam – your closest coworkers – took you out partying. You weren’t really keen on it as the only thing you wanted was to go back home and see Max, but eventually agreed when they said they wanted you to meet someone.

When you saw him, already sitting in your booth you stopped in your tracks and looked at your friends. There was nothing wrong with him, quite the contrary. The man was really handsome, had a beautiful smile and even more beautiful hazel eyes.

And that was the problem. You were a hundred percent sure a guy like him wouldn’t fall for you. And you were wrong. Lance, was his name, seemed to have a liking in you. His arm was wrapped around you a second after you greeted him.

The conversation wasn’t very good, but the man made up for it with his good humor and eventually you found a mutual topic. You brought him back home that night, his lips instantly landing on yours the moment he closed the door after himself.

Suddenly, a light turning on and a sharp cough made you pull away and look confused in the direction of the noise. Max sat on your armchair, arms crossed, leg placed on a leg, a deep frown on his face and cold take out on the table. His death stare pierced through Lance, making him tighten his grip on you waist.

„Oh god Max... I-I'm so sorry I forgot „

You whined out, arms slumping down in defeat but you didn’t push Lance away.

„It's okay. Enjoy your food”

Max hissed, quickly and angrily getting up and leaving, bumping Lance's arm on his way. He was really mad that you stood him up just to go to some stupid party and bring some dick back home.

The last part angried him the most, as he thought he finally had a chance with you, ready to make a move that night. But of course you ruined everything.

Even though the man was furious at you, he still watched you. Watched how Lance pounded into you at an agonizing pace, how your lips moved moaning – he imagined how they sounded, how you could sound moaning his name. He observed you constantly changing positions, pleasing each other as best as you could.

Despite Max noticing Lance being by far the best in bed from all your lovers, he knew he could be even better.

Next day you woke up alone in your bed. It saddened you a little as you hoped the man would stay until you wake up, but your face brightened up when you noticed breakfast and a little note on the dining table.

„Thanks, It was amazing. Enjoy your food and call me! xxx xxx xxx ❤”

Immediately picking your phone up you texted the man. A few weeks after that night, you started dating. It might have been too early but you didn’t care.

In meanwhile you've also managed to make up with Max, but he still seemed stiff when Lance joined you. The Dutch warned you about him, saying that the Canadian was a ladies man, not able to stick to one woman for a long time. But you brushed it off, thinking you knew better.

༶❃.✮:▹💀◃:✮.❃

Max saw Lance glued to other women multiple times while out in the town. He didn’t tell you cause you wouldn’t listen anyway, just get mad at him. He bought them various gifts, took them to fancy restaurants and events – all those things he did with you too. He thought that if his daddy had money, he could do everything.

One day Max couldn’t hold back anymore and beat Stroll up, landing him in the hospital. You were so furious at him, shouting your lungs out at him when you found out.

Little did you know your anger only deepened his admiration for you and turned him on. You were unable to stay mad at the dutch though, and eventually you were good again.

After some time you caught Lance cheating. Max was right... Again... You walked back from work, as Lance drove you there in the morning, eyes focused on your steps and pevement while music filled your ears.

You haven’t noticed them at first, walking by a bar with a huge front window they drank at, until you bumped into someone and got out of trance. Looking around you looked through the window and saw them, drinking, giggling and kissing like there's no tomorrow.

Feeling your heart break in your chest you quickly run away and dialed Max’s number to pick you up. The man was quick to answer and soon you were sitting in his car, sobbing quietly while his hand soothed your thigh.

Max wanted to say ‘I said so’ so badly, but he knew it would hurt you even more and he didn’t want that. That night you spent at his house, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, eating ice cream and watching TV while Max finished up some work beside, constantly playing with your hair to comfort you a little.

You woke up to hundread missed calls and texts from Lance but didn’t bother answering. Getting up you noticed Max wasn’t home.

"He must have gone to work...”

You thought stepping to the kitchen, delicious smell of scrambled eggs filling your nostrils. Your mouth started to water when you also started to smell coffee. The man knew how to please you. At least him...

You there, eating your breakfast, waiting for the host to come back home and thinking about him. It’s been 3 years since you know each other and the man already knew everything about you, yet you knew so little of him...

It was kinda of scary that he turned from just a neighbour to literally your best friend so quickly. But if you had to be honest you didn’t mind. You were greatful to have a friend like him. His call made you get out of your another hypnotic state.

“Hey I’m sorry I left without a word. Didn’t want to wake you up... Listen... Unfortunately I’ll be gone for a few days - bussines. Can you please take care of my house? You can do everything you want there just... Don’t go down to the basement okay?”

“What’s in there?”

“Well uh... Don’t laugh okay?...”

“I won’t”

“Just... Just my man cave...”

“Oooh... Okay Okay I won’t. I promise. Take care of yourself, see you soon!”

With that you were left all alone in his mansion for a few days. Oh that was going to be fun...

༶❃.✮:▹💀◃:✮.❃

Three days passed since Max left in bussines and you lived the time of your life in his house. Lance haven’t called nor texted you ever since, which you were really happy about thinking that he quessed what caused your behaviour and gave up.

Max even transwered you some money for food, which you thought was too generous of him but didn’t really complain. You were sitting in the living room, making a model for work when you lost your scizzors.

You’ve looked for them everywhere, even under both couches and armchairs but it was nowhere to be found so you decided to take one from Max. But you couldn’t find any either, even in his home office.

Although... There was one more place you haven’t checked. Max forbid you going in there, and soon you understood why. You froze after what you saw.

“Y/N! I’m back!”

Max’s voice resonated through the house, a sound of closing front door sealed the noise. Then long silence, until rushing steps came from the staircase. You didn’t turn around, couldn’t care to turn around and look him in the eyes as tears filled yours.

‘’You weren’t supposed to come here...”

The man growled yanking your arm, making you turn around and shrink under his dangerous look. A quiet ‘why’ escaped your lips while tears started to fall down your cheeks like waterfalls and your hand motioned to the horror located in the basement.

Naked Lance sat unconscious on a wooden chair he was tied to – a trail of dried blood could be seen on his forehead and he was very clearly starved and dehydrated, the skin from your ex boyfriends’ faces graced the wall like trophies, a few other ones around them, a wooden, bloodstained desk underneeth with some files and various knives and last but not least an altar with your photo in the middle, your stuff and candles around, was placed near by.

There was also a metal table, just in the middle of the room with chains that were used to keep the victim restrained, a trolley next to it with bloody tools and a huge fridge in the corner. The room looked like taken straight out of a horror movie, and you felt like Max’s next victim, just after Lance.

But he didn’t want to hurt you, he had no idea how to handle the situation yet but he was sure he wasn’t going to kill you. After all, he loved you and you should love him too. You were made for each other, you were made for him.

“I did it all for you, don’t you understand?”

His voice now soft and warm while his hand slipped down your arm to catch your hand, gripping it tightly. His other hand wiped away your tears then stroked your cheek with his thumb. As much as you wanted to push him away, to run as far away as you could, to get away from the man, you couldn’t. Something made you stay, not able to move. It was probably just shock...

“’George, he... he never had time for you... Always comming back home all worn out and tired expecing all the chores to be done, house clean and food ready... Has he ever helped you?... That mexican? Oh god don’t even get me started... I know that he hurt you... I heard and saw him relieve his stress on you multiple times... Those weren’t cries of pleasure... And him? Really? You could do waaay better... He was cheating on you since you became a ‘couple’. Don’t believe me? I can show you, no problem”

Max explained, he didn’t seem to be affected by the fact he has killed them, it wasn’t his first time. George always said there was something uncanny and scary about him. So did Sergio... And Lance...

But you haven’t listened, of course you haven’t. You were so blindfolded by this facade of a man you haven’t noticed his strange behaviour. And now you were where you were, standing in the psycho’s basement listening to him disclose his crimes.

“That despot was the easiest... Both for you and me. I know you felt sooo relieved when he went missing. And I felt sooo satisfied hearing him shout and cry for help while I teared him appart... Those screams were like honey to my ears... Although he did struggle the most... Geogre... Oh. My. God... The most boring guy I have ever met... Killing him wasn’t a pleasure at all, gotta admit. Although he was the only one that apologised, for not having time for you. That I appreciated. And Lance? Well... You can find out yourself”

You listened to Max rumbling about his crimes, describing each with such a passion it terrified you more and more. Soon the man grabbed your arms and spoon you around to look at Stroll.

He walked up to him and woke the man up with a painful kick to the stomach. He grabbed his hair tightly and made him look at you, all terrified and trembling, huging yourself to try and calm yourself down.

“What should we do with him honey?”

Max’s eyes never left yours while his hand reached for a knife that soon slightly moved across Lance’s neck.

"Maybe we’ll dismember him huh? First the dick he stuck in all those pussies... Then his hands that used to touch other women aside you... And then whatever you’d like... What do you say?”

You instantly shook your head and tried to run away, but the bastard locked the door. You breathed heavily as you watched him slowly walk up to you and yank towards him and Stroll. He pushed an axe into your hands and positioned you next to Lance.

“Y/N please...”

The man managed to breath out, eyes filled with tears as he looked at you and you looked at his with just as much fear.

“Come on sugar, start”

You wanted to puke at all the nicknames Max gave you. You held the axe tightly and was just about to swing it around your shoulder, wanting to hit Max, but the dutch grabbed your hands and helped you chop off Lance’s member. A loud scream vibrated through the room while blood splattered onto your face.

You felt weak, almost falling to your knees when Max caught you and chuckled into your ear, before nibbling it softly.

“Can’t stand little blood huh?”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Lance shouted out between cries. Tears started to fall down your cheeks, seeing him in such pain because of you.

“Max please... L-Let us go...”

You whispered into his chest, wetting his shirt with your salty tears but the man only laughed maniacally.

“And where’s the fun in that? Come on we gotta finish this. I know you can do this doll. Think of all the times those filthy hands touched anyone other than you in a sexual way and the just... Chop them... It’s that easy”

The man once again positioned you and awaited your move. His words actually made you think of all the times Lance could have cheated on you. It was terrifying to think about because, if believing Max, there might have been a lot of them.

Your blood boiled at the only thought of it but your hands were still shaking, not making a move but instead making Max impatient. A deep sighed escaped his lips before he helped you cut off Lance’s left hand.

“Relieving isn’t it?”

He grinned down at you as you listened to the canadian scream like a little girl, in agony once again. This time though, you didn’t feel so bad. He kind of... Deserved it...

Max noticed how your lips twitched, almost smiling. You were so easy to influence and manipulate... And he was going to use that as much as he could.

"Now the other one”

He instructed making you move around to Stroll’s other side.

“I think you can do it yourself now, right?”

The blonde asked stepping away to watch the horror. A creepy grin graced his face as he watched his girl finally cause pain to her ex by herself.

“That’s my girl”

He praised taking the axe from your still shaking hands and pressing you to his chest. He rubbed your back soflty, while you processed what just happened, trying to ignore the screams in the proces.

Did you really just cut off a guys hand? You could not believe it. You could not believe that you did it. That you did it by yourself.

“Now let’s finish this off, shall we?”

Max whispered, his lips gracing over yours before he put on that scary smile again. The axe was back in your hands as you stood in front of Lance. The blonde held your hips tightly so you wouldn’t run away and ordered you to chop off Strolls’ head.

“There’s only head left. You can do this baby”

Your heart beat like crazy as you took a good swing and observed the sharp tool get stuck in Lance’s head, killing him off. You didn’t really listen to the dutch and get rid of the head, instead opting to just ruin it. You felt dizzy almost immediately, falling to the ground and loosing conscious.

After you woke up you found yourself laying in Max’s bedroom, the man sitting beside you stroking your head.

“You did such a good job down there...”

He complimented planting a kiss to your forehead.

"Why...”

You suddenly whispered after a short while of silence, your voice cracking softly.

“Because I fucking love you... Don’t you understand?...”

He hissed, gripping the back of your neck before he released it when you curled in the bed, those doe eyes looking up at him with hurt.

“I love you Y/N L/N... The way I have never ever loved anyone else... All the things I’ve done for you were full of my love... Our dinners in the town? They were dates... The secret valentines? They were mine... All the presents, flowers, sweets, help... Have you really not noticed my signals?...”

Max asekd with hurt in his voice, now you started to pity him. You were so oblivious you really thought all those things he had done in a friendly manner. But your blindness didn’t justify his actions.

“Why haven’t you told me?...”

“What would it give when you were already taken?...”

He was right... It wouldn’t have changed anything. You looked at him, fear and hurt filled your eyes while you tried to even your breath. Even then, you looked so beautiful to him and he couldn’t wait to finally make you his.

“I know... I know it’s shocking and I’m sorry... I really am, but you need to understand I did it for you. I did it for your well being... And I’m sure you feel relieved after killing Lance... I know... I know it’s an amazing feeling isn’t it?”

Max smiled down at your. This time the expressions wasn’t sinister nor creepy, but rather cute making your heart melt.

“What... What will you do with me now?”

Asking quietly you earned a soft chuckle from the dutch. He got up and looked down at you, his demeanor changing from a soft and sweet one to a completely cold one.

"Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you... My love for you is too big to make me hurt you, but... I can’t let you go after you saw everything... I’m sorry but I told you not to come down there. Now... There’s no going back”

You crawled away from him in fear, then watched him close, lock and cover the windows, before he turned back to face you.

“I’m not gonna keep you down there... It would be too cruel even for me”

The man admitted taking afew steps towards the bed.

“Don’t even try screaming. We wouldn't like those beautiful throat of your sto hurt, do we?... The walls and windows are soundproof, no one will hear you... I’ve got you some nice, new clothes already, they’re in the closet, so you don’t have to worry you’ll have nothing to wear. I’ll bring some of your old ones soon... Let me unpack and I’ll make you something to eat, then you can shower and go to sleep. Here’s the remote”

Max said handing you the remore before leaving you alone and locking the door.

“Max no!”

You screamed, running after him and trying to stop him from locking the door but it was too late. You slumped down onto the ground, curled up sobbing quietly. Max heard you cry as he stood by the door. It hurt him, it really did, but he couldn’t let you go. Not now when he finally had you. That night you cried yourself to sleep, wondering if you will ever be able to live a normal life again...

"Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you"

#f1 #f1 fanfiction #fanfiction #18+ fanfic #female reader #violance #cw: gore #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfiction

181 notes · View notes