#a sort of 'once a god always a god' conclusion

[l8rhader]

Once upon a time, it was easy for students to write a six-hundred-word essay in M.L.A. format, double-spaced in twelve-point Times New Roman font.  Worse than that, back in my day, it wasn’t actually word count.  It was page count.  In those instances, you’d be stuck making it up as you went until you got to the point where you thought you were comfortably close to the end, and then pop into print preview to ensure that you were at your end point because Microsoft Word didn’t always have page counts, either.  We had a habit of reading the source material as assigned, or in some instances not reading it and bullshitting our way through the paper.  Often, if you were me, you would wait until 11 pm the night before to start the essay portion.  You’d sit down at your computer in your family’s kitchen and hammer away, hoping that it made some sort of sense.  By the time you were a senior in high school, you got pretty good at adding in some purple prose to stretch it if necessary, usually knowing where transitional words, examples, and multi-word phrases were eligible for swaps for a much more neat and concise answer.  If you were really good at it, or particularly driven, you knew that you could make your thesis long enough to get you to a solid seventy-five to one hundred words.  If your basic essay structure called for a thesis, four body paragraphs, and a conclusion, that meant that each section needed to be about one hundred words long and you were off to the races.  But wait!  You’d get to the end of your essay and find that you were off by about a quarter of the page, so you’d go back through your work and add things.  It could be as small and silly as 3 sentences to each paragraph, with a small bit you remembered or even loosely restating.  Now, here’s the thing.  Your bullshitting skills were a badge of honor.  In a world where school started at seven fifteen am and you didn’t get to leave until ten pm because of afterschool activities or work- and God forbid you had the unfortunate lifestyle to have a before-school activity as well- that usually meant that you had about hours to eat dinner, do homework, shower, and have any sort of fun, job, or social life with your friends or family… And also sleep.  So, you learned how to do it all.  That’s fine, right?  Just do what you need to.  Before you knew it, you were rocking out useless information like it was your job because it was, and it was, supposedly, all in the name of preparing us for the real world.  Even to this day, I can recall bullshitting an essay about homoerotic subtext in The Great Gatsby at 1 am because, in truth, I’d only read about a third of the book and hated every god forsaken second of it.  In those instances, you skimmed websites, you crowd-sourced, you skimmed, and you made it up.  And if you were really good, you’d land pretty close.  All of these are skills that you, too, can hone if you don’t use AI as a crutch and let your brain atrophy into disuse.  The thing that kills me about the use of AI in these ways, even past the particularly and personally stinging plagiarism issues, is that these are skills that are important for navigating the real world- the news, instructions, recipes, travel directions.  Even if you choose, like me, to never pursue higher education for whatever reason, you still NEED to be able to dissect information and discern what is useful.  The people who are relying on AI for all of their academic needs are doing themselves a huge disservice and shooting themselves in the foot.  You don’t have to be able to stomach Animal Farm as a piece.  But you HAVE to be able to get your own information.

There. 669-word opinion-based essay written in about 12 minutes. You're welcome.

im still losing it over the "how did high schoolers write 600 word essays before chatgpt" post. 600 words. that is nothing. that is so few words what do you mean you can't write 600 words. 600 words. this post right here is 45 words.

[illprotectyou-hearteyes]

To be clear this is not a prediction of a queer romance in the show because I'd never put my hope in a Disney/Marvel production like that but.

I don't know whether to side-eye Loki S2 or myself for the fact that my genuine read on it four episodes in is that the natural culmination is Loki having to choose between Mobius and Sylvie. And choosing Mobius

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

you know, unless i ever actually meet a god i think this is the closest i'll ever come to a religious experience

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

WE CAN DIP IF YOU’RE READY ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere imo), mild age gap (five years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach.

but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room; listening to the sound of the nearby sea. you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and foolishly wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, pajama pants clinging to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

(suddenly, without mercy; a finality to his voice.)

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, all those years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture. 

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking at you, looking through you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god; his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod, smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws a backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of pancakes on the kitchen table, sugary and sweet, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends. 

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

… except they don’t.

the moral of the story is: satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was nineteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a naive little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

five years later, on a breezy summer evening, you step onto a bustling train platform with your luggage in tow — breathing in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look up at them, and then back down; everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers, peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades, the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you. 

there she is. with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided, a yellow sundress and matching headband; sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other just a month ago — you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko…”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

”you’re still mad about that?” you match her expression, sulking. “it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards a familiar house, resting in the distance. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.” 

(… ah. right.)

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb.

from within an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze, the buzz of an old radio spills out. when you strain your ears, you think you hear humming — gentle and sweet.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own. “good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”… i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off, muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own — leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice.

”i bet,” he hums. ”take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot, unable to properly look into his eyes. for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward.

one large stride towards you, as sudden as a lightning bolt, before he leans down to wrap his arms around you. squeezing your waist, with his biceps, not quite as tight as you remember his hugs being; you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can. 

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen. 

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly. 

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves. 

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.” 

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a too-loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for the right words, brain tied up into fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, grounding, and all you can do is gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“… you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet, now. soft and sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. you love her for it.

but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating — but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament. 

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.” 

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm. 

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat. 

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?” 

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes… 

suguru. 

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by... i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers. 

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid. 

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look. 

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe. 

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. 

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan flowing from his throat. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with a distinctly cold gaze, one you aren’t accustomed to seeing. you crane your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless. embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing. he was just looking out for you.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response.

“i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him? 

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing, even though you’re anything but.

one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening. 

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more — unable to help yourself — you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“… it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re five years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet. 

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it’s dripping with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it, okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair with a gentle caress. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her. 

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up. that your legs were long enough.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart, and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated, even if you’re completely delusional and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds. 

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thighs, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable. he’s strong. very strong.

the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and, honestly, you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after another, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually… some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those printed white flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no,” he murmurs, softly, the slightest shake of his head. ”because i wanted to be prepared. in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something…” a sheepish little chuckle. ”i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep a steady hold around your legs. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy. i hope you can understand that.”

silence. then, a displeased huff.

“… you’re not some random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he stands a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet. satoru, your first love.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat. you’re not sure he heard you. if he did, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time. 

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think, more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have. 

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you. solemn, steady, a pillar of salt.

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking with the sound. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking, if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, and oxygen spills out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“… has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

now he’s just teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm; his voice set to a melodic lilt, as if tempting you to close your eyes. it’s summer, in a quiet port town.

and you adore him again. 

that’s right, you muse, belatedly. loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t ever an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so. if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown yard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom — just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away; at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all, that’s it. that was always it.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts, unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off little ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right. 

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you both. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

[avelera]

Viktor and Jayce both need to take some non-STEM classes

I'm joking but also a little not-joking that this is in fact, a theme in the show.

In Season 1.08, Ambessa meets Jayce for the first time after he's become a councilor. One of the first questions she asks him is, "Do they teach military history at your Academy, Mr. Talis?"

Jayce takes this as a set up for an insult against him. He's rattled by the bathhouse and braced for a fight. He's so riled, in fact, that he completely misses what Ambessa is probing him for there.

Ambessa wasn't setting him up to make him feel small, like Jayce feared, she wanted to know if he had a military history background or even the beginnings of the skills needed as an engineer to understand or counter some of the political manipulations she's about to pull on him.

Jayce answers: I'm not sure.

Not only has Jayce never taken a military class, he as a scientist doesn't even know if his school offers it.

That made him easy pickings for Ambessa. She wouldn't even need to be subtle, she could use the most basic tricks in the book against a proud young man with only a scientific background and know he wouldn't even begin to have the tools to pick up let alone counter what she's doing to him.

And then we get to Viktor in S2. Now, I think "How much of Cult Leader Viktor is even Viktor?" is a fair question. But the whole Machine Herald ethos he seems to be working towards in his inner monologue in 2.06 is yet another example of "Won't someone PLEASE make these boys take some sort of liberal arts class? An ethics course? SOMETHING?"

Viktor is working his way (Hexcore influence or no) to the conclusion that many frustrated young activists have hit upon when their activism doesn't work.

He tried to help people. But people didn't want to be helped or didn't cooperate with the way he wanted to help them.

His conclusion? Clearly it's the people who are wrong. It's the people who need to be changed.

To quote Pratchett, "“People on the side of The People always ended up disappointed, in any case. They found that The People tended not to be grateful or appreciative or forward-thinking or obedient. The People tended to be small-minded and conservative and not very clever and were even distrustful of cleverness. And so the children of the revolution were faced with the age-old problem: it wasn't that you had the wrong kind of government, which was obvious, but that you had the wrong kind of people.”

And of course, once you start to see people as the problem, that people need to be fundamentally changed, added, or subtracted from, when you treat people as things, that is when the real evil begins.

You have to accept people as they are and work within those bounds, because otherwise you have to change people and that pretty much always leads to the sort of atrocities that the Machine Herald seems gearing up to do. Namely, add and subtract away the people, or the characteristics of people, that don't fit his vision for the world.

And all I can think is: won't Piltover Academy please for the love of god make your tech bros take some goddamn history and philosophy classes please??

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Don't Ruin It | Agent Lenny Miller x fem!Reader

summary: Sexual tension comes to a head (literally) when a younger female agent (you) makes a move on her superior agent, Lenny Miller, after a successful undercover mission.

warnings: Infidelity, power-imbalance, hazy consent, praise and dubious humiliation, smut.

word count: 3,300k

ONE SHOT! Who would’ve guessed…

Taking What's Not Yours- TV Girl 🎶

That's so True- Gracie Abrams 🎵

You were partners. Partners. And he was married. Married. There were so many fucking ethical reasons why you shouldn’t but damn it all, you did. 

“I need your wire,” Agent Lenny Miller said over his shoulder as he sorted the equipment back into their cases. Your heart was still racing from the conclusion of your mission, your body was thrumming with adrenaline. You turned to face the hotel mirror and unzipped the back of your dress. When he was done with his brief task, Miller turned and after a moment of hesitation, approached you slowly. He clenched his jaw as he brushed the zipper away so that he could reach the mic-pack secured to the band of your bra. His pale fingers lingered an extra moment longer on the bare skin above and below the clasp as he pulled the pack off. He blinked his heavy eyelashes slowly, wetting his lips as he followed the wire up your back to your ear. His finger trailed over your skin, pretending to hold to the wire as his eyes glanced up to meet yours in the mirror. You removed the mic from your ear and turned back slowly to hand it to him. Miller looked down at you, still holding the pack, his heart racing too but his eyes deadly calm, keeping a level head just like a good agent would. Staring for a moment at the mic-pack, Miller finally exhaled slowly and nodded, taking the mic pack and wire. He switched the device off and looked back down at you again, face-to-face. 

You were a young agent, fresh out of training with an expertise in languages. Agent Lenny Miller was a senior agent, a typical dark, brooding type with attitude issues and a soft-spot for intelligent women. He was always arrogant, but it was because he was always right. God, it was so fucking infuriating. When he wasn’t smiling (which was most of the time), you could barely make out the beginnings of crows’ feet at each outside corner of his eyes. He was in his mid-forties, married with a son. He wasn’t technically your boss but that didn’t make it any more ethical. These were just the things you told yourself as he continued to look down at you with his pale blue eyes. 

He was standing with his feet shoulder-length apart and his jaw still painfully clenched. You reached around to the back of your dress and unzipped it all the way, your chest rising and falling quickly. Miller inhaled deeply as he saw what you were doing. Your black dress slowly slipped down your body to pool at your feet. He let himself look down at your body, covered only by your underwear. He stepped closer, just half a step, his lips falling open as he looked down at your lips. You rose onto the balls of your feet, offering your mouth but he inhaled sharply again and ran his hand over his mouth. 

Miller stepped back and turned. He walked to an armchair in the hotel room and sat down on the edge of the seat, his hands steepled. 

“Len-” you started but he held up a hand to stop you. 

“Shhh, don’t ruin it, don’t ruin it” he whispered gently and looked you over again from the chair across the room. You stood silently in your underwear for a moment until you felt brave enough to move your arms to undo your hair. Your hair fell around your shoulders and you ran your fingers through it, picking out the knots quickly. Once that was done, you looked back at the man and asked him point-blank. 

“Is it your wife?”

“Don’t ask me about her, Y/N.” He responded calmly, his hand still resting against his lips as he stared at you. You raise your chin slightly and inch closer until you're right in front of him. He looks up at you in appreciative silence, like he’s at an art gallery or the symphony. He lets you step between his knees and run your hands down the back of his head starting from the crown. His eyes close slowly and he sighs as your hands stroke his dark hair. 

“If only you knew…” you whispered as your other hand slid down his cheek. Agent Miller’s eyes opened and he smiled softly, leaning into your hand. 

“Know what?”

“How much I want you,” you answered breathlessly, your heart fluttering beyond beating. Miller chuckled in discomfort and inner turmoil. He shook his head and leaned back in the chair, out of reach of your hand. 

“You know as well as I do that we can’t do this, Y/L/N.” 

“Don’t talk like that.” You responded cooly, taking a step back as he watched you, his eyes helplessly trailing over your body. Miller leaned his chin against his closed hand, wetting his lips again as you put more distance between you. You could make out the half-hard bulge in his trousers that he tried to ignore. You two stared at each other for a minute on end, neither speaking as your eyes spoke to your individual desires. Finally, Miller sighed and reached out his hand, palm up and beckoning. 

“C’mere.”

His voice was gentle but sure, as if there were absolutely no hesitation behind his request. You waited another moment before finally stepping back between his legs. His arms opened, inviting you to sit on his lap. You sat on his upper thigh, within the cage of his arms. Miller used his other hand to pull your legs across his lap, so that you were sitting completely across his legs like a child. His open hand rubbed up and down your thigh furthest away from his chest, slipping all the way down to your calf. You looked down at him and exhaled shakily. 

“I-” he started but you pressed a finger against his lips, shushing him gently but firmly. 

“Don’t ruin it.” 

He smirked softly behind your finger and looked at your lips as you moved your head close to his. You dropped your finger and held the curve of his jaw instead, brushing your lips against his. The short stubble on his jaw tickled your fingers as you pushed them down his throat. His hand moved to hook around your waist and his lips fell open, responding to your tease. You exhaled shakily again, this time against his lips before finally kissing him. The kiss was so soft that your lips barely touched, barely moved. He looked up into your face, exhaling tightly before pulling you closer once again. You kissed again and just as softly as before. When you pulled away, you stared at each other in tense silence, the world around you was shrill like a static that separated you two from the rest of the world. 

“Do you want to stop?” You whispered, looking between his blue eyes and his button nose. He briefly pressed a finger against your lips, dismissing your question, before kissing you again. His kiss was harder, stronger, as if he’d finally made up his mind without saying so: he was going to fuck you because damn it, he wanted you so badly. His teeth caught your bottom lip and you moaned against him as your fingers found the buttons of his collared shirt. The process was slow but expertly coordinated as if you already knew each other’s bodies as well as your own. You unbuttoned his shirt, slowly revealing his undershirt once each button slipped out of its eyelet hold. He wore the same undershirts that your dad used to wear beneath his dress shirts, the ones he wore to work, the similarity brought a strange sense of comfort as your hands felt the fabric beneath your hands. 

Miller pulled you to straddle his lap so that you were completely facing him on your knees. You rested your butt on his legs, waiting patiently until his shirt and undershirt were completely removed. He held his arms over his head so that you could pull the shirt away from his bare skin. Agent Lenny Miller was by no means a largely muscular man, he’d left his field days behind him, but he was still fit, still lean and handsome. His arms were still muscular and you could feel the tension of his muscles every time he moved them around you. You sat back, ending your kiss for a moment so that you could look down at his bare chest. His pectoral muscles were tight and defined, his stomach shallow and taught. There was a dusting of freckles across his pale chest and a thin line of dark hair beneath his bellybutton. You pressed your hand against his lower stomach and felt the muscle meet your hand as it tensed. He laid his hands on the chair’s armrests and watched you with a calm expression on his face. 

You slipped off his lap and opened his legs so that you could kneel between them. He ran his hand over his lips as he watched you, his eyes glued to you. You placed your hands on his knees and rose for a moment longer so that you could run your tongue across his collarbones. You dragged your tongue up his sternum, up to his throat, and ended at his jaw with a gentle nip. He shook once beneath you and groaned softly, so quietly that you barely heard it. When you returned to the place between his knees, his lips fell open in a helpless way, as if he were stuck in a trance. When his pants were undone, you ran your hand over his now-very-hard-cock and looked up into his eyes. 

“Go on then,” he whispered, smirking softly as if he were joking. You smiled and pulled down his boxers just enough to find his erection. When it sprang free, he groaned audibly and leaned his head back for a moment. You rolled your tongue around the head slowly, relishing the taste of his precum, showing you just how much he wanted you too. Your hand gripped his shaft and squeezed gently, making him jerk his hips. He cursed beneath his breath as you moved your mouth farther onto his cock. You sucked softly, just wanting to prep him, not to make him cum. His hands tightened on the armrests, his nails digging into the red leather upholstery. You took his cock as far as you could without gagging and rolled your tongue before bobbing up and down. 

“Ah fuck, girl. Slow, slow” he praised gently and closed his eyes as you sucked. When you could hear the distinct sounds of masculine whimpers, you stopped and looked back up at him. Miller exhaled tightly and ran his hand over your hair, fixing how it fell at the side of your face. His hand dropped to your shoulder and played with the soft skin there before pulling one of your bra straps off of your shoulder. You waited as he did the same to the other strap. He sighed as you stood slowly and stepped backwards towards the hotel bed, never used. Miller removed the last of his clothes and followed you slowly, his hand reaching out for your body. You let him pull you closer and kissed him as he felt for the clasp of your bra. He undid it easily and pulled it off of your arms so that he could feel your breasts. He nearly growled as he squeezed your breasts, feeling the hard nipple between his fingers. Miller picked you up easily and laid you back on the bed. He took your knees and pulled them apart so that he could stand between them. Still kissing you, he fit his hands beneath the bands of your thongs on your hips. His hands rubbed back and forth on your love-handles, in no rush to take off your underwear. 

“Turn over, agent Y/L/N,” he muttered against your lips. 

You nodded slowly, your lips starting to feel swollen and hot. You flipped over onto your stomach and felt his hands cup your butt before pulling down your underwear. He pulled them down your knees, over your calves, and off your ankles. 

“Look at you. Good girl…” he whispered and tossed the underwear to the side. You pushed your butt up, signaling your need for him. Miller chuckled briefly in understanding and spread your knees again with his hands. With one of his hands, he feels over your wet cunt and leans over you to nip your shoulder. 

When you moan he nods, “I know, I know. Me too.” 

His long, rough fingers teased you cruelly as you bit your lip to keep from whining. 

“Miller…” you whispered after a while of waiting and teasing. The senior agent smiled and leaned closer to your ear. 

“Patience, girl. It’s an agent’s best virtue.” 

You rolled your eyes and started to respond snippily before you felt him press against you, groaning. He pumped into you, hitting your ass with each quick gentle stroke. His hand that wasn’t being used to support his body went to your chin and pulled your head to lie flat on the side. 

“How does it feel?” He asked. 

“Hhha,” you tried to speak in a small breathless voice. He moved his hand back to your hip so that he could thrust deeper. 

“Mmm fuck, you’re tight,” he panted and moved faster, harder. You cried out in pleasure and arched your back as much as you can beneath his body. “Tell me when you’re close.” 

He groaned in pleasure as he found a good rhythm, your cunt gripping his cock better than his wife ever could. You moaned loudly, nearing yelling as he held you down and subjected you to the brutal honestly of his fucking. 

He leaned down over you to rub his lips against your smooth upper back. He kissed your shoulder blade and slowed his thrusts, savoring the intimacy of your bodies. He moved his hips forward in a slow and flexed manner, straddling the line between climax and continuity. 

“Good girl. Good. fucking. girl.” He muttered, his lips still barely touching your back. 

“Shit I’m close,” you whined, your thighs shaking out of your control. As soon as the words left your mouth, Miller pulled out and picked you up by your hips. Nearly cradling you in his arms, he swapped places with you and placed you on top of his freckled upper chest. 

“Sit,” he instructed calmly, “I’ll finish you off,” he gripped your thighs, waiting for you to move onto his face. You were panting and red in the face and it took a moment for you to realize what he was asking. With another reassuring nod from him, you shifted your body up and slowly lowered yourself down onto his face. You were skeptical and awkward until you felt his tongue glide over the lips of your sex. His nose rubbed against your clit as he sucked and lapped at your cunt. Your mouth fell open and your thighs immediately reacted by quivering. You placed your hands over his, still on your thighs, and cried out. 

“That’s it,” his voice was muffled but still clear as he felt your orgasm building again, “I won’t stop you this time.” 

Your body tried to jerk away from his mouth as your climax came on fast and strong but Miller kept you close to his lips. His arms didn’t let you leave even as you writhed from pleasure. You panted loudly, whining, until you finally orgasmed. Miller felt you orgasm against his mouth and waited until you had ridden it out before letting you pull away. You moved back enough for him to sit up. You were both panting and high on pleasure which made it impossible to speak. Miller looked you up and down, his way of asking if you were ok. You nodded softly and he nodded in return. 

“You didn’t finish,” you observed breathlessly, straddling his lap as he leaned against the headboard.

“No?” He raised a brow, pretending to be ignorant. 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“You’re observant, good for you agent Y/L/N,” he responded evenly, raising both of his brows so that his forehead creased into that judgmental look he did so well. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Already did. Try again,” he tilted his head to the side slightly and nearly smirked. His biceps curled as he ran his hands up and down your arms. When you cocked your eyebrow back, calling him out on his bullshit, he sighed and resigned. 

“That was for you, not for me,” he explained calmly, his eyes meeting yours. 

“Making me finish, you mean?” You asked slowly, your brows furrowed more. 

“Yes,” he nodded slowly and pursed his lips, “that was for you. I wanted to make you come.” 

“And now what?” 

“What do you mean?” Miller asked, confused. 

“What do we do now?”

“We put on our clothes and go back to doing our jobs,” he answered with a half-hearted shrug. You scowled and shook your head. 

“No.”

“No?” He repeated. 

“You want this too, as much as you try to deny it and shame me for it. I’m not just a pity-fuck. Look me in the fucking eyes and say that you didn’t want me,” your voice dropped and you grabbed his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles. He held your gaze calmly but his heart beat faster. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he considered his response. Deciding against words, Miller grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a hard kiss. You were caught by surprise and moaned tightly as he pulled you close and found your tongue to suck on, delirious with passion. His hands wrapped around you and flipped you over where you were then lying on your back beneath him. 

“Fine, how’s this? I’ll look you in the eyes while I fuck you,” he growled and helped himself inside you. Like this, you could see his bright blue eyes as he held himself up over your body. He was already grunting and panting as he started to move back and forth. Both of your mouths fell open and you cried out in more pain than pleasure at this overstimulation. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, his thumb playing with the ridges of flexed muscles as you panted beneath him. His eyes only left you once when he dropped his head to your breasts to take one of your nipples between his teeth. He didn’t press hard, just enough to make you whimper. He flicked his large tongue over your breast, teasing the nipple with quick aggressive flicks. Your back arched and he growled in pleasure against your chest as he allowed himself to feel his orgasm. He returned his head to its original position so that he could watch your facial expression as he came. His mouth was open, his lips wet and pink. His cheeks hollowed everytime he panted, hitting your hips hard with his at the same time. He said nothing as he came, just slowed his thrusts, focusing instead on going as deeply as he could. His eyes closed and he shuttered, cumming inside you. 

When it was over, Miller remained fixed above you, his grip loosened around your neck. He traced his finger up and down your throat in a strange show of affection. 

“Alright?” Miller asked in a deep, heavy voice. You nodded and ran your hand over his chest. 

“You?”

“Alright.” He nodded once. You stared into each others’ eyes, panting and exchanging hot breath. 

“Alright,” you whispered. 

Another moment of silence passed. 

“Alright,” he repeated, staring now at your lips. Slowly, Miller inched closer. Slowly, your lips touched once more. 

Alright.

[cyxnidx]

HI HI HELLO! I saw ur cat n mouse gamr for Wriothesley and loved the idea so much! I would like to request f! Reader x wanderer (genshin) playing a cat n mouse game as well hehe. And if you dont mind please do write more on the smut part I am very curious on how itll play out 🫢 TY!

CAT & MOUSE 2 !

character pairing: wanderer / scaramouche x f!reader

warnings: smut, degradation(use of 'slut, whore') + a little praise, oral (m!receiving), cat & mouse game, slight bondage (ropes🤭)

a/n: Hi~, apologies for such a late response :(. had to get some sort of inspo flowing. i'm glad you enjoyed, & hope you enjoy this one even more <3.

"where are you, slut." wanderer's tone echos throughout the house.

you're hiding - hiding, being bratty, as usual. getting your boyfriend all riled up, only to leave him to deal with his boner himself.

not this time, though. it seems you've gotten him a little too riled up today.

you slap a hand over your mouth when you hear his shoes against the hardwood floor, hoping he doesn't find you.

now you're realizing its foolish - and your hiding place doesn't make it any better. under the bed, really?

"come out, come out, wherever you are.." he calls again, obviously teasing you. hes so close, so near, yet you don't have sight of him.

the adrenaline rush is addictive. it's probably the main reason you're doing this to begin with. the rush of hiding, and the chance of being caught, and fucked to oblivion?

its addicting.

you notice it goes quiet. it doesnt seem like the wanderer is walking anymore, nor is he calling for you.

theres only one conclusion you can come to when this occurs.

and before you know it, you're yanked up by your ankles and pinned to the ground.

you've been caught.

you fight him, for the fun of it. to give him a hard time, not that you want to win. not necessarily. the whole point is to get under his skin.

finally, he gets you under control, and thats when you notice a rope being held between his teeth. he holds your hands above your head with one hand, while with the other, he works to tie your wrists together.

"scara - let's talk about this!" you whine, only adding fuel to the fire. you knew he wouldn't wanna talk - why would he?

without a word, he throws you onto the bed you once were taking cover under. "not another word, you hear me?" he demands. "say anything more, and I'll stuff that pretty mouth with my cock."

your eyes narrow, analyzing his. lust swirls in his pupils, a gaze of daggers stabbing you. though, despite the betting stare he's giving, you take it as an opportunity to provoke him more.

"well, if you're so bold, do it-"

you're basically cut off at the last syllable of your sentence when he moves you off the bed. his grip is harsh on your waist, and you were on the ground before you knew it.

"open your mouth," he says in a haste, unbuckling his pants and fiddling with his zipper.

"wha-"

"open. your. fucking. mouth." he demands, stroking the bud of precum over his cock as he waits. you let your tongue fall out of your mouth, mouth wide, awaiting to be filled by his cock.

not taking more than a minute, he shoves his cock down your throat, immediately fucking you.

"you," he pants, the warmth of your throat hitting him like a truck. like a pressure he never knew he needed for the minute. "fuckin' slut. always rilin' me up n', shit."

he continues to shove himself down your throat, your gags filling the otherwise quiet house. he grabs a harsh fistful of your hair and your hands go to massage his balls, tempting him to cum down your throat.

his head tilts back. "god, damnit. you're sucha little slut, fuck, taking my cock like a good little girl. mmh, g'na let me cum down your slutty little throat? huh?"

you attempt to moan in response, the tightening gesture throwing scaramouche over the edge, filling your throat with his seed.

he waits for you to finish sucking every little bit off his cock before moving you to the bed. "good little slut, you must like to be used." he mumbles, turning you over on your stomach and arching your back. "g'na treat you how you want, yeah? like the little whore you love to be."

[greenfiend]

Will already has powers…

And I think I figured out exactly what they are.

This is a long theory post. Get some popcorn, get comfortable and be prepared to have some common fandom perspectives get flipped upside down. Nothing is as it seems.

(Trigger warning for some serious subject matters such as: homophobia, SI, m*rder, and CSA.)

Before we begin, let me remind you of what’s seen behind our boy in the photo above.

This post will, indeed, open that curtain. As Murray states, revealing what’s behind the curtain will cause some to feel unease. The unease may be caused by distaste of the theory overall or discomfort of the serious subject matters. So proceed with caution…

To begin, who is Will Byers?

A young boy who doesn’t fit in with the 1980s norms. A boy who escapes through fantasy.

In fantasy he’s a wizard… a cleric…

Outside of fantasy he’s an artist… a creator…

He’s a boy who’s different. He stands out from the rest, yet he manages to remain hidden for the most part. He’s “good at hiding”.

He is a part of a small loving family of three. His mother Joyce and his older brother Jonathan. His biological dad is estranged (more on him later).

Will has a few friends when we begin the show: Lucas, Dustin, and Mike. Mike and Will have a bond that’s different from the others (more on them later).

Will is a young boy who has experienced a lot of trauma, from bullying peers and an abusive parent to being victimized by supernatural forces. There’s a lot going on for him both internally and externally. These also happen to correlate with each other quite frequently. Suspiciously frequently in fact. Which leads me to this conclusion:

Will’s powers involve shaping the world around him based on his warped views of himself, his sexuality, and his mental health. He’s literally “reshaping the [external] world” to match his internal world; “remake it however [he] sees fit.”

Wow okay slow down there, you may be thinking. You’re really saying he has God like abilities? Well, sort of- but he lacks the insight or control over his own abilities at this point. Just bare with me here and keep an open mind as things will get stranger…

Moving away from the deeper aspects of his character, let’s look at something superficial: his name.

William “Will” Byers

The name William means “Determined” or “Resolute Protector” or “Strong Helmet”. Okay.

Byers means someone who lives by a cattle-shed. Hm. Okay.

But wait… let’s go back. What does the name “Will” mean?

Well… there’s multiple meanings but let’s focus on the highlighted one.

“Mental powers” you say? A name that literally means the ability to make others do things or make things occur? To bend things to one’s will…

When did he get these powers?

I’m not confident in the answer to this but I think he may have always had the powers. Just like his sexuality, he was born this way.

It’s very likely that he was specifically targeted back in the first episode because of this, then was possessed afterwards for the same reason.

I mean… for a villain who wants to “reshape the world”- why wouldn’t he want the powers of a boy with this ability?

As I believe his powers are intertwined with his sexuality, they began manifesting much more once puberty hit. Will likely has used his powers in seasons 1 and 2 but very subtly. In season 3, they become more obvious but still in the shadows (and unbeknownst to him…he suppresses it). They emerge in correlation with his blooming sexuality.

Season 3 is associated with possession, and the concept of free will is a frequent theme. The characters discuss how to look out for people acting out of the ordinary, out of character if you will. Any characters that come to mind?

Hopper was noticeably different this season. Coincidentally, the same season Will desperately held onto his childhood innocence, Hopper acted suspiciously immature.

Will wants El and Mike to break up. Hopper wants El and Mike to break up.

Mike explains to Lucas that Hopper “threatened” him while we immediately cut to Will. What’s Will doing here? He is moving DnD characters on a board. He is manipulating the characters here… playing dollhouse… being a puppet master. This little guy was so jealous of Mike and El that he influenced Hopper to try and break them up!

We are shown other little incidences of Hopper acting Will-like too. He suddenly buys a shirt that’s different than his usual wardrobe- “that’s a lot of color chef”. Will is known for wearing colourful clothes, that’s highlighted as a reason he is seen as “different” and is bullied for it. Hopper has trouble pronouncing an alcoholic beverage, saying “cheeanti” when he is well acquainted with alcohol. While Will is dressed up as Will the Wise, Lucas asks Will for permission to shower- then we cut to Hopper showering. Hopper acts very immature in his jealousy, just as Will does. Both Hopper and Will have big fights with Joyce and Mike in episode 3 of season 3. When El asks “how do we know when someone’s a host?” the scene immediately ends and we are shown Hopper. Will is using Hopper as a host! There’s even more evidence than this but we shall move on from here.

So wait, Will possessed Hopper? Well, not exactly. Hopper was under the influence of Will. Remember what Will said about the mindflayer: “He likes to hide. He only used me when he needed me.”

There was another character acting out of the ordinary this season…

That’s right! Mike.

I’ll come back to him more later but in the meantime, let me offer you this theory:

The rain scene. Now what if I said that Will was the one projecting onto Mike? What I mean is: Will’s internal thoughts “it’s not his fault I don’t like girls!” becoming a reality. Mike never meant to say this- it was all Will’s doing. His internalized homophobia became externalized. It’s oddly fitting too that in the episode with Will’s emotional breakdown, it’s raining.

The devastating depth of Will’s trauma

Within the show, we know our boy has experienced a lot of suffering, but subtext tells us it’s much worse than we see on the surface.

Will’s father is a homophobic and abusive asshole yes, but he’s more than that.

There’s an alarming amount of evidence that this man was not only emotionally and physically abusive but also sexually abusive to both Will and his older brother.

He likely was especially homophobic towards Will because he projected his actual perverse sexuality unto him. He likely dealt with his shame by blaming his innocent young son.

This leads us to: November 6th, 1983. Originally, I do believe that Will died by the hands of his own cruel father. His father likely picked him up from his bike ride home (his bike left behind), ended his life by strangulation, put him in the back of his trunk, and dumped him into Sattlers Quarry (where his fake body was found).

I believe somehow someone was able to reverse this (more on this later). The clock turned back and a new timeline was created. Will was then abducted and brought to the upside down. Instead of heaven or hell, he was in purgatory. Time came to an abrupt halt in the upside down… the exact same time his life ended in the original timeline. This is where timelines diverge.

Now Will’s purgatory is also his internal world, his own mind. The upside down manifests itself as this. It’s dark, cold, scary, lonely, and unsettling. He’s trapped in his own head, where he relives some of his most traumatic memories. We see him being victimized by the Demogorgon (an alternate title for Demogorgon is “The Deep Father” x ) and we also see him being assaulted (in a sexual manner) by vines.

By the time Will is rescued, he is struggling with suicidal thoughts (the song “When It’s Cold I’d Like to Die” tells us this). Poor boy has been in a deep dark depressive state. In season 2, his possession is a real manifestation of his PTSD.

The monsters represent how he views himself- he’s a monster. I’d argue his internalized homophobia is a lot worse than we actually think. It’s not just the homophobic environment around him, it’s also the ongoing rhetoric that the victim will inevitably become a perpetrator. As we see the common occurrence of toxic cycles continuing: he fears he has no agency and will become his own father.

Jonathan can relate, but because he’s solely attracted to women and thus more “normal”, it’s not as bad for him. But Steve really pushed his buttons when he implied that Jonathan is a creep like his father.

So yes, Will sees himself as a monster because of his attraction to men. Thus, he manifests the monsters in the monster show.

Speaking of his attraction to men…

Mike

Will loves Mike, he’s hopelessly devoted to him. Mike feels the exact same way. In the original timeline, Mike ultimately decides to jump into Sattlers Quarry to reunite with his love in death.

Will “jumps”, Mike jumps too. Luckily, a new timeline was created, giving both of them a second chance at life and love.

In the alternate timeline (the show), season 1 sees Mike leave no stones unturned in his search for his best friend. In season 2, we see how Mike normally is with Will. He’s so devoted! He’s always by Will’s side throughout everything. It’s beautiful! This is the authentic Mike.

So. What happened in season 3? Mike’s internalized homophobia?

Well partially I’m sure, but in this post I’m offering an alternate theory: Mike’s behavior is explained by Will’s internalized homophobia.

What do I mean by this?

Well as I said, Will reshapes the external world in the image of his internal world. He doesn’t believe he deserves Mike’s love. He’s scared. He’s been “inventing things” so he can push Mike away.

He obviously wants nothing more than to be with Mike, but due to his insecure attachment style and his internalized homophobia, he’s been the one pushing him away this entire time with his powers.

How has he been pushing Mike away exactly?

He’s been pushing Mike towards El.

Wait, didn’t he help break them up through Hopper?

Well, yes, but the sweet sensitive boy that he is likely felt bad, he regretted his actions after their rain fight fallout and wanted to give his “olive branch” and make amends.

Will believes the best way to do so is to push Mike and El back together. Like Lucas, Will gives Mike guidance by, essentially, being the master to his puppet.

(Above is actually Will’s apology to Mike.)

In Will’s mind, Mike is straight. He would never reciprocate Will’s feelings. So, Will believes that Mike should be happy with El then.

Will literally is putting words in Mike’s mouth here. Look how focused Will is in this scene, and how often Mike turns to him. It’s as though Will is mouthing to Mike exactly what words he (thinks) he should say.

Here Will is at it again! But Mike is resisting. The words aren’t able to come out. Will’s signal is poor, Mike couldn’t fully understand him.

So Will, as misguided but well intended as he is, attempts to bring Mike and El back together.

No wonder Mike couldn’t exactly remember his words…

He’s genuinely confused here!

This leads me to…

This foreshadowing shot tells us that Will is the director here. He fed Mike the script he had to read. So yes, I’m saying that Will did not just push Mike to say those words to El, he forced him to. Mike did not have any agency here.

Now, like me, you may be concerned about this. Will is bending Mike to his will? Won’t the audience then assume Will forced Mike to be gay with him? Pushing that toxic homophobic narrative?

Well that’s the thing- Will is not forcing a straight man to be gay. Will is trying to make a gay man straight! Ahhh trope subversion.

El

So I’m not going to delve too much into El in this post, because El and Will deserve their own post. But I do strongly believe they are much more connected than we think.

Vecna

Where does Vecna fit into this theory? Well for starters, I don’t believe Vecna himself is Will, he is definitely a separate entity. The major difference between Will and Vecna is that Will will no longer be restrained by his shadow, he will be able to differentiate himself from his shadow. Vecna has chosen to become one with the shadow.

Also, like Mike, Vecna is heavily associated with time. Vecna takes time away from others but Mike gives time. I do agree with the Wheeler and Creel being connected theories.

Time

Time is a major theme within the show. As I mentioned previously, Will possesses powers where he can manipulate his environment, his space. Will is space, but he is lacking the 4th dimension.

The upside down is frozen in time, essentially lacking time. It needs time, and it always will! That’s right- Mike is time.

That boy is frequently associated with it. Running late at the beginning of each season, mentions of ���turning back the clock”, etc.

Mike “turned back the clock” and saved Will from his original fate. Similar to the scene where Mike jumps off the cliff and is saved by El, Mike reverses his fall by rewinding time. He went all the way back to the night of November 6th, 1983. Preventing the original timeline from occurring.

Mike gave Will the greatest gift of all- time.

Remember time heals all wounds. Wounds being the gates.

Together, Mike and Will are spacetime. Which is beautiful because not only does this mean they are equals in every way but they can literally create their own fantasy world together.

Conclusion

This show has a lot of layers. I tried to really dig deep but still I feel like I just scratched the surface. I will say this though: I am utterly confident that everything leads back to Will. He is the center of the entire show, like it or not. Without Will, there is no Stranger Things. Now of course this is not “the Byler show” but their relationship is incredibly important. Mike’s unconditional love and devotion to Will is a key aspect of the solution to the conflict. He makes Will “feel better for being different”. His love, along with his other friends and family, will inevitably lead to the upside down (Will’s mind) becoming a beautiful place. Instead of rot and decay, there will be blooming flowers and sunlight.

If you’d like to discuss any aspect of these theories with me, feel free! Like I said, I’m only scratching the surface here. Let me know your thoughts.

[one-flower-one-sword]

"You came from a renowned school, an orthodox sect that never traversed the deviant path. Growing up in that sect, you were always told that ascending was the ultimate thing to strive for," Jun Wu continued. "It is very difficult to give up that sort of goal. Falling in with the Ghost Realm was an unfortunate circumstance, an act born of helplessness. Of course you cannot say you are satisfied with your position in the Ghost Realm. It was never what you wanted in the first place."

Yin Yu didn't have enough confidence to deny it. He said weakly, "Chengzhu has shown me grace. He saved me -"

"I know," Jun Wu said. "He even helped you pacify and send off Jian Yu's vengeful spirit after he died during your banishment, am I correct?"

"...Yes," Yin Yu confirmed. "So whether or not I am satisfied with my current position, it's all -"

"That is dissatisfaction," Jun Wu noted. "You are bound by his grace and have nowhere else to go. You are in denial." Yin Yu hung his head and didn't reply.

Vol 7, page 144-145

One of my favorite relationships throughout the novel, even though we get so little information about it, is Yin Yu and Hua Cheng's. Even the above tidbit is mired by the way Jun Wu is trying to manipulate Yin Yu's emotions and how Yin Yu at times responds genuinely and at others plays along to try and find a way to escape.

Once I had finished the novel, I was left wondering why there are so many fandom jokes about Yin Yu being exploited by Hua Cheng when the text seemed to paint a much different picture of what Yin Yu's life and work environment as a god was like versus as the highest ranking ghost city officer. So in this meta I try to examine and compare the two as well as try to draw conclusions about how Yin Yu felt about it all and why.

First of, I think that Yin Yu's longing to return to becoming a god is genuine, since this is what he says after he stops playing along with Jun Wu's manipulation because he's by then gotten enough spiritual energy to attack him:

"I do want to return to the heavens, I do want to be ranked in the top ten!" Yin Yu continued. "But it's completely meaningless if I don't do it on my own! I'm unlucky, I accept that! Admitting that I can't compare isn't that hard!" Vol 7 page 152

Which is interesting, considering this is what he felt like when he was still a god in heaven while Quan Yizhen hadn't yet ascended:

A good while later, [Quan Yizhen] said bluntly, "I don't like it here."

Yin Yu said nothing.

"They think I'm annoying, but I think they're even more annoying," Quan Yizhen continued. "Before, I could train at least sixteen hours a day. Now half the time is taken up by talking and listening to nonsense, by greeting and visiting people. There are people who yell at me and hit me for no good reason, without apologizing, and I can't even fight back. This isn't heaven. I don't like it here."

Yin Yu sighed. "I don't like it here either."

"Then let's go back," Quan Yizhen said.

But Yin Yu only shook his head, "Even though I don't like it here, I want to stay."

Quan Yizhen couldn't understand. "Why do want to stay if you don't like it here?"

Yin Yu was stumped, and chuckled in spite of himself. He didn't know what to say, unable to explain it to him. How could he convey to Quan Yizhen that reaching the Heavenly Capital was the dream of so many people who sought the path of cultivation, the ultimate end goal? Or just how difficult it was for someone his age to achieve ascension?

Vol 5, page 271-272

Yin Yu essentially seemed to be struggling with sunk cost fallacy, where he put his everything into ascending to heaven and so wants to stay there even though it's making him increasingly unhappy. It's interesting that Jun Wu accuses him of being in denial about his unhappiness in the Ghost Realm, when Yin Yu in the past seemed to be in denial about his unhappiness in heaven. Especially since this is what he was being treated like as soon as his power and influence were in decline:

Yin Yu and Jian Yu were seated next to the "Earth Master." Their assigned seats were considered the edge of the banquet. Yin Yu wasn't eating or talking to anyone. [...]

At the other end of the banquet, there was already a large crowd of heavenly officials fighting to greet Quan Yizhen. The surrounding crowd had completely blocked the person at the center from sight. It appeared that this was soon after Quan Yizhen ascended and established his own palace. He was at the height of his popularity in heaven, in contrast to how he was disliked by most of the present court. Although the two were both Martial Gods of the West, he was significantly more prominent than Yin Yu. The attendees all swarmed over, leaving the table where Yin Yu sat quiet and empty.

Vol 5, page 273-275

I've talked about this in my Yin Yu & Quan Yizhen meta as well, how Yin Yu tries to get by in heaven by conforming and submitting to the elitist power structures it's based on:

Quan Yizhen kept going. "They cussed at me first. I don't even know them. They said I was a low-ranking heavenly official and yelled at me for no reason, then they laughed at me and told me to scram and not to block their way [...]" "Are low-ranking heavenly officials below other people?" Quan Yizhen asked.

"No," Yin Yu replied. Was that true? It was obvious he didn't believe his own words, and Quan Yizhen noticed.

Vol 5, page 271

and how it starts to chip away at the kindness and the moral backbone he showed while still in his sect:

"Shidi, the things you're all saying aren't right." The crowd was taken aback. "I'm going to say something unpleasant," Yin Yu continued. "No matter what path we cultivate, talent truly is an incredible thing. And he is not only talented, he is willing to work hard. If you really think Shifu is playing favorites, then let's work harder to keep up with him - maybe even overtake him. And then things like training halls and supplements will naturally be open to everyone. Rather than wasting time being angry at him, your priority should be training harder. Am I right?" [...]

"You really don't need to mind them. You didn't do anything wrong. It's fine like this." Anyone with clear eyes could see that the other disciples couldn't stand Quan Yizhen. They found fault everywhere, and it wasn't because of his big appetite, or because he wasn't a morning person, or because he was inconsiderate and a poor teammate who only cared about showing off. At the end of the day, what they really couldn't stand was this: he was the last to enter the school, but he received the most. Quan Yizhen nodded. "I think so too." Yin Yu patted his shoulder. "Go train! That's what's most important. Don't think about anything unnecessary." [...]

After watching the two scenarios, Xie Lian praised Yin Yu. "San Lang, that subordinate of yours really is a rare character. What a good heart."

Vol 5, page 262 + 264

Everything Yin Yu and Quan Yizhen already struggled with in their sect - the jealousy, the bullying, the competition for resources - is even worse in heaven, which actively encourages the endless competition for devotees and subordinates as well as the exploitation and mistreatment of those of "lower rank". No matter how hard Yin Yu tries to conform to these structures, they steadily wear away at both the way others see him and also how he sees himself:

After closing the gates, Yin Yu's voice grew louder. "Don't say any more! I don't want to hear it! It's very normal for an ascended heavenly official to establish a palace, so he didn't do anything wrong. Since you get irritated just talking about him, why must you constantly bring him up?" "Please don't think that I'm speaking out of turn, but someone must remind you. Yin Yu, the west is only so big, and there are only so many devotees. He's already taken so much. That wolf yao kill should've been yours, but he stole it! Look at the state of you now - your domain's shrinking smaller and smaller. How much do you have left? Can you maintain your standing if this keeps up?" "How is what he's done theft? It's not like he's forcing anyone to worship him at knifepoint - everyone's willing. Besides, that wolf yao..." Yin Yu sighed and said frankly, "I couldn't have defeated it. It was useless praying to me, so of course they went to him." "I just... I'm worried that if this fight continues, he'll win and leave us with nothing," Jian Yu said bitterly. "Fuck, even those lower-ranking officials only care about their own advancement - each one of them coming up with empty excuses to quit and slipping away to serve under other heavenly officials. What a bunch of no-good asshats!" Yin Yu sighed again and sat down on a prayer cushion. "What fight are you talking about...? Why care for such things? Those who want to leave will always leave in the end, and those who want to stay will naturally remain. I didn't ascend to fight for power with anyone, nor squabble over domains, nor quarrel, so why can't you let this go?" Vol 5, page 277

This is a stark contrast not only to the kind of standing he had while he was still in his sect:

Yin Yu pushed them away, urging them to leave. He sighed. "You said yourself that he's insane, so why bother with him?" It was easy to see that Yin Yu's words held weight with his peers at this point in his life. Although the crowd was still upset, they left as told. Vol 5, page 257

But especially to the kind of authority and respect that his position in Ghost City offers him:

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the ghost crowd. They immediately parted, forming a path, as if someone of importance had arrived. Xie Lian came to his senses and saw a tall, black-clad figure walking straight toward him through the path created by the mob. That person yelled, "Settle down. Let him go!" The black-clad figure, like most of the ghosts on the street, wore a mask. It was a funny mask, with a face that was contorted as if it was smiling woefully. The mob muttered under their breath, "It's the Waning Moon Officer!", and they released their hold on Xie Lian at last. It seemed this black-clad figure was someone significant in Ghost City. Vol 2, page 99

It's also worth mentioning at this point that I think people forget that Yin Yu does not always necessarily work alone and has to do everything by himself but that he has his own subordinates:

After taking a moment to contact his subordinates in Ghost City, Yin Yu meticulously reported the general directions of each sighting.

Vol 7, page 48

Another very important thing to take away from the argument between Jian Yu and Yin Yu is that while still a god in the heavens, Yin Yu had no confidence that he'd be able to fight a wolf yao, yet in the amnesiac extra, he shows no signs of hesitancy or fear when Hua Cheng orders him to go after the monster that stole Xie Lian's memories:

He was still trying to process what he'd learned when he heard San Lang say, "I need to attend to him right now and can't leave. Catch that monster before tomorrow night and bring it to me." "Yes, sir. Shall I leave it one last breath?" the man in the ghost mask asked quietly. San Lang put down his brush and glanced at what he'd written, which he then crumbled up and tossed away, apparently unsatisfied. "Leave it a few. Make it spit out what it swallowed, then crush its worthless head to dust. Make it slow and painful." His tone and expression were both quite frightening, yet Xie Lian didn't find him repulsive or alarming. The man in the ghost mask acknowledged San Lang’s order and was about to take his leave, so Xie Lian quickly dodged away and hid. Vol 8, page 226-227

Which leads me to another important point - the amount of trust Hua Cheng shows Yin Yu by the kind of missions he sends him on. If he didn't have a high opinion of Yin Yu's abilities, he would never send him after something like a monster that had eaten Xie Lian's memories, given how incredibly important Xie Lian's wellbeing is to Hua Cheng. There's many other examples too - like how Hua Cheng trusted Yin Yu to help with tricking Shi Qingxuan and Xie Lian into saving "Ming Yi", or how he entrusted the Earth Master Shovel to him. But Hua Cheng also does not ask the impossible of him - when they're all trapped in heaven and Yin Yu started to dig tunnels with the Earth Master Shovel to try and free Xie Lian and the others so they could recover and become strong enough to escape, Hua Cheng cautions them against it because he correctly deduces that "you'll be seeking your own deaths if you try to break out under Jun Wu's watch." (Vol 7, page 130) Even though Yin Yu is with Xie Lian, Hua Cheng doesn't expect him to get Xie Lian out on his own, because he knows how powerful and ruthless Jun Wu is.

For extra emphasis, let's compare Hua Cheng’s regard for Yin Yu and his abilities to the way Jun Wu never even deemed to speak to Yin Yu while he was a god because he was so very much "beneath" him:

"My dear Yin Yu, I do not think I have ever chatted with you like this before. Isn't that right?"

"I guess not..." Yin Yu replied cautiously.

Even back when he was the martial god who ruled the west, his base of believers wasn't strong, his merits were few, and his rank wasn't impressive. He wasn't the lowest ranked of the heavenly officials in the Upper Court, but he was still below average, so he'd had almost no opportunities to interact with the Heavenly Emperor - the highest of the high.

Vol 7, page 142-143

Keeping all of that in mind, it's very interesting that Jun Wu tries to tempt Yin Yu to his side by offering him the position of his right-hand man:

Finally, Yin Yu asked, "In the Upper Court, I... What... would my position be?"

"Ling Wen will be my left hand, and you shall be my right," Jun Wu said. "There will be none above you besides me."

Vol 7, page 149

When that really is a position Yin Yu already holds - he's Hua Cheng's right-hand man. Now, one could argue that Yin Yu does have less power and prestige in the position of a ghost realm officer than he would have as a god - there's no believers worshipping him - but I think the point is that he doesn't answer to anyone but Hua Cheng, that there's no one else competing with him for that position, no one else among his subordinates that Hua Cheng puts this much trust in, and that there's no one else besides Hua Cheng himself who is demonstrated to hold so much authority and respect in Ghost City. And with all of the above, it's really important to keep in mind that Ghost City is the one single autonomous place in all the three realms and that its Chengzhu is the one single being whose power and influence is rivaled only by the Heavenly Emperor himself.

And said Heavenly Emperor damn well knows Yin Yu is Hua Cheng's right-hand man, which is I believe a big part of the reason he tries to flip Yin Yu by dangling this exact position in front of him. As I've talked about before in other posts, Jun Wu hates Hua Cheng deeply for various reasons. There's the whole thing where Hua Cheng is the unmistakable proof of a believer that never leaves their god, the very thing Jun Wu felt entitled to but didn't receive. But in this case I think him wanting to tempt Yin Yu away from Hua Cheng's side is about how bitter and salty Jun Wu feels about the fact that Hua Cheng holds more sway over all three realms than he does - evidenced by the way Hua Cheng doesn't just have followers in the Ghost Realm but the Human Realm as well, and even the gods, while they fear him, also can't help but admire him and strike deals with him in secret (Vol 1, page 157-160). That Yin Yu, a banished god, would (just like Xie Lian) rather be loyal to Hua Cheng than Jun Wu - that must have angered him a lot because it's something he'd take quite personally.

This is, I think, also the root of why Yin Yu has so much trouble seeing his position in the Ghost Realm for what it really is and why he still longs to be a god despite how unhappy he was in the heavens and how badly he was treated there - he can't see past the prejudices about the Ghost Realm in general and Ghost City in particular that he has internalized. Prejudices that Jun Wu actively weaponizes every time he speaks to Yin Yu, by repeatedly insinuating that being a ghost city officer is a shameful thing to be:

"Surely you do not actually like being a mere pawn in the Ghost Realm?" [...] "Falling in with the Ghost Realm was an unfortunate circumstance, an act borne of helplessness." [...] "You are bound by his grace and have nowhere else to go." [...]

Vol 7, page 144

Which makes it all the more satisfying when Yin Yu tricks Jun Wu (or attempts to, at least) and ultimately rejects both his offer and his authority, and also calls Jun Wu out on the way he tried to manipulate him:

"My Lord... My... No, not My Lord! You! Why must you keep reminding me of that?! Why do you speak like you actually understand me?!"

Vol 7, page 151

Jun Wu is deeply enraged by his defiance and rejection - in general, but also because it reminds him of Xie Lian's defiance against him:

Jun Wu turned around with a casual sweep of his hand. "Exhilarating. You and Xianle must get along well."

Vol 7, page 152

This brings me to my final point - which is that choosing kindness and righteousness even in the face of criticism and rejection, of personal loss and suffering, is what Jun Wu hates the most, and what ties Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu, and Yin Yu and Hua Cheng together. Hua Cheng was drawn to Xie Lian because Xie Lian chose to treat him kindly when everyone else abused and rejected Hua Cheng and pressured Xie Lian to do the same. Similiar things can be said for Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu, since Yin Yu was the one to ask his sect's shifu to take Quan Yizhen in when he came across him as a seemingly abandoned child, and who repeatedly defended Quan Yizhen from the other sect members' judgement and bullying, even though this earned Yin Yu their ire as well. Yin Yu, too, values kindness very highly:

Yin Yu sobbed. "If I wasn't destined to be perfect, I at least wanted to be perfectly kind. But... I couldn't even manage that." (Vol 7, page 156)

Therefore, though we get very little information on their first meeting, I think kindness is also what drew Yin Yu to Hua Cheng, what made him stay loyal to him even when tempted/threatened by Jun Wu, and what made him go right back to working for him after the events of the main story. Because while we get only this one mention, I think a great deal can be gleaned from it:

"Chengzhu has shown me grace. He saved me - "

"I know" Jun Wu said. "He even helped you pacify and send off Jian Yu's vengeful spirit when he died during your banishment, am I correct?"

Vol 7, page 144

It's not just he helped me, it's he saved me. And not only that, Hua Cheng, in a sense, saved Jian Yu as well by helping him move on, which I would assume was simply because Yin Yu wished for his friend to let go of his resentment and not become stuck as a vengeful spirit. What I think is really important to keep in mind here is that not only was Hua Cheng under no obligation to save Yin Yu, he had, objectively speaking, nothing to gain from it. He Xuan was already in the heavens by then and giving Hua Cheng intel. and Hua Cheng didn't show off that he had a banished god working for him either - he let Yin Yi wear a mask, and for years, no one (except apparently Jun Wu) knew where Yin Yu was or what had happened to him, evidenced by the way Quan Yizhen kept looking and kept asking about him to no avail (Vol 5 page 235).

We don't really get Hua Cheng's side of the story but I think the fact that he doesn't speak about it speaks for itself - aside from keeping things close to his chest in general, he tends to not talk about the things he does out of kindness and/or his own sense of justice. We see this for example when Xie Lian only finds out why the group of cultivators is after Hua Cheng when he overhears them saying that Hua Cheng chose to shelter both the pig spirit and the prostitute ghost who had chosen to take revenge on humans who had used their positions of power to hurt others (Vol 5 page 28-29).

This is therefore more speculation than analysis, but I can imagine that this whole scenario - a god with a good heart who gets abandoned by the heavens with only a vengeful spirit by his side - even though the exact circumstances that led to it differed, might have held enough similarities to what Hua Cheng personally witnessed of Xie Lian's banishment that it would bring out that same urge to help and protect in Hua Cheng. The fact that Yin Yu says Hua Cheng saved him really can't be overstated in my opinion, considering that Hua Cheng, understandably, has usually nothing but feelings of either indifference or hatred for all of the gods aside from Xie Lian and the Rain Master.

To sum up - the power structures in heaven encourage workplace harassment, bullying, and endless competition for resources and support, and this causes Yin Yu not only increased stress, isolation, and unhappiness, but also puts a strain on his inherent kindness and righteousness as he starts to give in under the pressure to conform. By contrast, his position in Ghost City is dependant on nothing but his loyalty to Hua Cheng, on Yin Yu's own choice to stay with him, and offers him an unprecedented amount of respect and trust. It is heaven, really, that is repeatedly shown to mistreat and exploit its officials, especially those of lower rank, not Hua Cheng.

[kiryoutann]

warning(s): MDNI. sexual contents, detailed description of violence, a man's way of thinking.

A voice in the back of his head began to whisper, telling him to let you go, to walk away before his teeth sank in too deep and caused you even more pain. Before he became too ensnared, too intertwined.

But he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Not when you're sensually rolling your hips on top of him, your jaw slack as those pretty, plump lips make sounds that cause his cock to twitch in his boxers. The sight of your puffy eyes, the soft curve of your lashes, and the furrowed brows. He groans as you grip his thighs, anchoring yourself to him.

The moans you let out—oh, love, what is this? Why does it feel holy when they're sinning? Like some kind of ablution. He is reborn. He is being sent to heaven, and it is between the plush of your thighs—the divine liquid dripping down your folds.

You drag your fingers across the raised tissue of his skin, and he is blessed. He observes as your eyes glide over every part of his body, recognizing the differences between the scars he bears—guessing how they were created. Fire, knives, hooks.

And fuck, angel.

That sickening clench clutches his chest again as he gazes upon your tear-streaked face. This perfect creature is mourning his scarred flesh, once burned and healed, textured. Your lips quivering as you sob.

What are you grieving for, pretty?

Probably thought he was some sort of good guy who didn't deserve this. So consumed by her turmoil, she forgot that every cut and burn meant he survived; he won and survived. Can't say the same about the other guy, though. Not that Simon would—no.

He's too selfish to share your attention.

Because what if mentioning others who died in his hands makes you pity them instead? Something a sweet thing like you would do.

“Why... why would anyone want to hurt you?” You ask, and Simon answers in his mind: Why wouldn’t they? “Is… is this from your time in the military too?”

“Yeah,”

“What happened?”

“Got meself ‘anged by the ribs once,”

Simon was given three primary roles: hunter, judge, and executioner, but you didn’t know this. Nor did you know that the bastards who had caused these scars had long since died in the slowest and most gruesome way possible. That house fire he told you about didn’t spare them like it spared him.

All of this was evidence that he had hurt and killed—a mortal sin, darlin'. But you let another fat tear slip, thin red roots spreading across your sclera.

Oh.

There was always the other side of the moon that Simon never realized until now, until you did. His God—you—are all-forgiving and shed tears because the other side of the story is that he has been hurt and almost killed. So far, Simon has only seen himself in three main roles: hunter, judge, and executioner. Never the other way around: prey, defendant, and victim.

And oh—oh.

The “God” on his pelvis rocked her hips, taking him to many pleasant places—places a sinner would never have the luxury of visiting. The burn inside him twisted into something different—something warm that pulsed in the chambers of his heart and spread and crawled across his chest.

This wasn't the old fury. So, Simon convinced himself this was lust.

The conclusion must have been made in a hurry, or more like in desperation to see past the truth. He tried to bury it in the depths of his mind where he wouldn't have to acknowledge it. But Simon knew lust shouldn't last this long, nor should it leave him feeling invigorated simply because you had smiled at him.

This was—

[part of chapter 11 of "A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY A WRETCHED, WRETCHED THING.".]

[minhosimthings]

OMG, HOW ABOUT THE OTHER HYUNG LINE??? LIKE HOW THEY WILL TELL U THEY WANT TO FUCK U??

Alright I included Jay's too so that I can link this in my masterlist! Also damn anon that brain of yours is sexyyy.

Heeseung isn't as shy or respectful in bed as Jay is. Although he respects your boundaries, he forgets what the word means once he's in between your legs.

So he takes a much faster approach, sneaky and slow like Jay (because the hare never won the race) but applicable more faster than Jay's.

Heeseung, being Heeseung would love to ask you up front, because you, knowing what he's like, would immediately say yes. Or atleast that's what Heeseung thinks until he gets another idea in his mind to test you. Being the playboy material he is, Heeseung would drop more major hints than Jay. Some of which include, squeezing your ass every minute, trapping you in certain places like leaning over you to get the paprika from the shelf behind you, or even straight up dry humping you. Heeseung loves seeing you crack slowly, he loves seeing you on your knees begging for him, like a servant begging for freedom. It's one of the things that got him off, often, seeing you being so intoxicated for his dick.

"Ah-ah fuck baby." He'd moan, loving how your mouth wrapped around his dick as soon as he told you your pussy will get filled with his cum once you sucked him off. Heeseung's mind went straight to his cock once the sight of you going on your knees so fast hit his eyes.

"Such a good girl for me aren't you?" He'd say, thrusting his hips harder into your face, his dick basically choking you as it hit your throat, "Going dumb for my cock." And he would go absolutely mental as soon as he cums inside your mouth, "Swallow it up baby, I know you like that don't you?"

To wrap it up (like Hee's dick), Heeseung is a sadist, a degrading yet praising, sadist. He wants to see you crack, to get on your knees and worship him like a God.

Jay is a very respectful person and always knows never to push your boundaries, especially when it comes to sex. But I feel like there's always a blue moon when he craves your pussy wrapped around his dick, giving him every pleasure he's ever wanted. But he'd be shy to ask you directly cause he doesn't want you to think he's some sort of sex hungry person.

So he approaches you as if he's a slow poison, creeping up and taking the kill when you are completely unaware.

Jay would drop hints, subtle hints, maybe a flash of his abs here, or 'accidentally' wearing a tight turtle neck with his rings on, which he knows will make you weak. He wants you to crack first, to ask him if he wants to have sex, instead of him doing it himself.

And you, being the world's greatest wife girlfriend, will crack, because who wouldn't after seeing Jay in all those nice rings on fingers which you so desperately wanted inside of you?

"If you wanted me to fuck you, you could have just asked, princess." Jay would smirk at you, after seeing how a simple movie night, with you grinding against him, has now turned into a heated session on the couch, with you trapped under Jay's rough pace on you, his dick pushing deeper and hitting the spot he knew always made you crazy.

You knew he wanted this, and you knew you could have just made him into a needy whiny baby, but feeling him inside of you, nice big dick rubbing against your walls as you felt that tight knot in your stomach,made you think that next time he did all this, you were just going to let him fuck you on the ground.

So in conclusion, Jay doesn't ask. He makes you ask.

Even though Jake is classified as an introvert, I have very high beliefs that Jake would be the only one out of all of them whose going to ask you straight up. He isn't someone who liked dropping hints or riling you up. He wants sex? He gets sex.

Romantic isn't it? Atleast in his eyes it is.

Just imagine, you and Jake going to some party, and he's bored out of his soul, the only thing in his mind, his hardened dick inside your wet cunt. He always did slide in pretty easily.

So he casually strolls towards you, whose talking to your best friend, and wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your neck, while whispering in your ear, "Bathroom, now."

And that's the story of how you're currently mufling your moans in the bathroom as Jake's tip rubs against your pussy. He always did love teasing you.

"Shh baby, can't let the others know can we?" He'd say, as you basically scream, when his dick stretches you out without warning. He's ramming his hips into you, holding your hips steady as your unsteady breat does nothing but encouraging him more. One hand covering your mouth, one hand squeezing your waist, adding to your pleasure.

"Ah-ah fuck darling, you're so tight for me today." He moans, feeling you clench perfectly around his dick. He can feel the pressure in his tummy, he wants to let go into you.

Jake would make sure to make your orgasm last as long as possible, a treat for fucking you so abruptly in the middle of a party, which quite frankly speaking you weren't really enjoying much, until your boyfriend's sudden sexual surprise.

Jake's an extroverted introvert. My man ain't shy to tell you when he needs your sweet cunt.

Sunghoon..... Do I hear the greatest sadist in all of Enha's hyung line?

Sunghoon is a tease, a great one, and the man owns it. So he'd be a mixture of Heeseung and Jay, but he'd use more, how do I put this, oh yeah drastic methods.

Maybe he'll dig out that pheromone perfume he's been hiding in his drawer, or maybe he'll feed you a shit ton of chocolate (he's heard it induces female hormones a lot), or maybe he'll just resort to fucking himself with loud moans in the bedroom, just so you can hear your poor boyfriend's resorts to fucking himself and then go and ride him a bit.

If he uses pheromones instead, which is more likely, since, again, he's a sadist, he'd spray it crazy everywhere. Maybe on your bedside table, on your necklace, on himself. And you'd go crazy, not understanding what in the atmosphere was making you want to fuck your boyfriend so hard.

"Aww baby you want my cock?" Sunghoon would tease, throwing you onto the bed, and binding your hands above your head, "You can have my fingers first."

Fingering you, so that he can stretch you out, Sunghoon loves seeing your scrunched up face when he edges you to the brink of insanity.

"Aww you want to cum? Too bad baby, you don't get to cum that early."

He's obsessed with the way you whimper when he teases you with his tip, lining his precum all over your pussy.

"Look at you, going dumb for my cock." Sunghoon would smirk, feeling your fingers desperately pinning him to yourselves. He didn't even have to thrust much, with you pulling him to yourself.

Male ego is often fragile and for Hoon, oh it's an egg. Much like Heeseung, he adores seeing you crack into insanity. Sunghoon's a sadist. Drastic methods are his thing.

[nanabansama]

Tsukasa Is Tsukasa

Recently I discovered a poll asking if people thought the Supernatural Tsukasa and the Red House Tsukasa were different, and the results surprised me! A majority of voters thought they were not the same. Not only that, but I've seen many people in the fandom start believing they are separate people, if they hadn't already believed it before.

I think this stance can very easily be explained by the scene in Chapter 111 where Amane comes to the conclusion that the Tsukasa who went missing isn't the same as the one who came back:

While people might be divided on the details, the conclusion is basically the same: whatever that is inside of him, it's not Amane's brother.

And I can see why they think this! In fact, it used to be a popular theory back during the release of chapters 78-82 when we didn't know the specifics of what happened. Heck, we still don't know many of the specifics...and many people continued believing the Tsukasas were different anyway!

There's decent evidence to support this, too. When Tsukasa returned, he had sharp teeth and supernatural powers. He knew that Kunishige's wish was that the head priest would die. He's demonstrably different from the innocent little Tsukasa that sacrificed his life for Amane.

If that wasn't enough, even his own mom came to the conclusion that Tsukasa wasn't her son! This is basically the same conclusion Amane comes to in Chapter 111. That's 2/3 of Tsukasa's family members thinking some evil entity is larping around in his skin--not a good look!

In any case, while I could try and convince you guys there are two Tsukasas and the Tsukasas are different, that's not what I'm here to do. If you read my blog you already know I'm 100% on the side that Tsukasa is Tsukasa and always has been, and nothing AidaIro has shown me so far has been convincing enough to change my mind. In this post, I am here to argue that the Red House Tsukasa is the same as the Supernatural Tsukasa and that he merely works in tandem with the ancient god living inside him.

1. Chapter 82

This is the chapter when a lot of people dropped the theory that there are two Tsukasas, including me. (Yes, I used to believe there were two Tsukasas--people change!)

Kou and Nene had determined that the Red House Tsukasa was the real Tsukasa and that the one Amane killed was a fake. They come to this conclusion because this Tsukasa was trapped in the Red House for 50 years and acts a lot nicer and sweeter than the one we know.

The issue is, Kou tells this Tsukasa that Amane is going to kill Tsukasa and die at the age of 13...and unbeknownst to Kou, the seemingly innocent little Red House Tsukasa is EXCITED at the idea! Tsukasa, thankful to Kou and Nene, helps them escape the house but stays behind. This scene is when a lot of cool stuff happens.

First, we learn that Tsukasa wasn't actually trapped in the Red House and he always knew how to get back home, but that he never left because he was worried about what would happen to Amane. However, once Kou told him that Amane wasn't happy after Tsukasa left and that Amane kills not just Tsukasa but also himself, Tsukasa realizes he doesn't know that much about Amane and wants to learn more. The most shocking part of this scene to me was that Tsukasa's excitement at dying was very similar to the lighthearted way the Supernatural Tsukasa brings up his death with Amane.

Second, we see Tsukasa not only has the entity he sacrificed himself to to save Amane stored in his chest, but that he holds a conversation with it.

The entity being shown in his chest is actually a popular argument for the "Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa" theory, but I feel this scene proves otherwise. Tsukasa is not the unwilling host of this entity, as one might expect, but instead almost treats it as a friend. They have a sort of symbiotic relationship going on, and Tsukasa makes the decision to go back wholly of his own, despite them both knowing how to get back the entire time. He even says "let's go back TOGETHER," which supports the idea that they work together and that it isn't simply piloting a Tsukasa meat puppet.

We can argue Tsukasa is the victim to the entity's machinations, that the entity needed Tsukasa to do it willingly or that the entity took full control of Tsukasa after he succumbed to the flames or what not and tricked him, but so far AidaIro has only shown cooperation between these two characters. It's not unreasonable to suggest that Tsukasa gaining supernatural powers after he comes back isn't a sign that he's a different being entirely but that he's just working with one.

2. Mother Doesn't Always Know Best

This one will be a quick section, but considering Mother Yugi is basically the origin of "Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa" I wanted to cover why I think she's wrong.

In Chapter 79 Kunishige recounts how Mother Yugi took Tsukasa to their shrine because she thought her son was possessed by a demon after being spirited away. Kunishige thinks she's crazy at first, and so do the priests, who find nothing wrong with Tsukasa. Put a pin in that btw.

However, Kunishige later learns she was onto something because Tsukasa is not only an incredibly unsettling child but he correctly predicts the death of the head priest of the shrine and tells Kunishige his wish, for the head priest to disappear, would be granted tomorrow. This proves Tsukasa has otherworldly power, since he knows Kunishige's wish without Kunishige telling him, and also might have the ability to grant wishes, something the entity in his chest is shown to be capable of.

Now, I personally think the fact that the priests found nothing wrong with Tsukasa is HUGELY in favor of my theory. I understand how you can argue that the entity somehow avoided detection because it's powerful, or because there was nothing left of the original Tsukasa or something, but I still think the fact the priests detected nothing wrong is extremely weird. What if that's because Tsukasa is still in control?

I think the fact Mother Yugi was convinced Tsukasa isn't her son and wasn't persuaded otherwise is important, too. In fact, I think it might directly correlate with the conclusion Amane makes in Chapter 111. I think Amane is more or less coming to the same conclusion his mother made, something he hadn't wanted to believe at first but eventually, finally, succumbed to. I have to imagine his mother's insistence that Tsukasa wasn't Tsukasa left a big impression on Amane, and it's something that's bothered him for years.

I can't exactly blame them both, either. By the time Tsukasa came back, he'd lost a lot of his innocence. Keep in mind that they think Tsukasa was gone for six months. Any normal 4-year-old kid might have been traumatized by leaving his family for six months, but Tsukasa just acts creepy and possessed. And despite him meeting Nene and Kou 50 years in the future, it's possible it really was only six months for Tsukasa! Time worked differently there. Still, it's not hard to see how the extreme circumstances he was in might have changed him. Not only was he stuck in a haunted death house, he later learns the wish he granted for Amane wasn't Amane's true wish and that Amane kills Tsukasa. This is all pretty life-changing information, and when you tack on the fact that he's buddy-buddy with an ancient man-eating god, it's really not that surprising Tsukasa has changed so dramatically, especially when he's still at the tender age of 4.

3. Behavior

For something that's supposedly replaced Tsukasa entirely, it certainly gets very personal with Amane, doesn't it?

I said before that Red House Tsukasa in Chapter 82 acts similar to Supernatural Tsukasa. How they find delight in death. But I don't think this is the only point of similarity between them, either. In Chapter 81, Red House Tsukasa is under the impression that Amane hates him.

In Chapter 111, after Amane tells Tsukasa he hates him, Tsukasa tells him he already knew that.

Mind you, this line comes seconds before Amane comes to the conclusion that Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa.

Think about it. Tsukasa tells Amane that he knows Amane hates him, echoing a sentiment that the Red House Tsukasa shares. And Amane, after hearing this, comes to the conclusion that this Tsukasa is an impostor.

Isn't that... really sad?! I mean, I'm not going to say that Amane's whole reasoning for Tsukasa being a fake is that he thinks Amane hates him, but...before this scene, Amane was saying he couldn't destroy his yorishiro because he cared about Tsukasa too much. And for Tsukasa to say something he's thought ever since Amane pushed him as a little kid, and for THAT to make Amane say he thinks Tsukasa is fake... it really shows they've never understood each other at all.

Tsukasa's never been shown to get extremely upset about being hated by Amane, either, so you can't say Amane is right just because Tsukasa is laughing in Chapter 111. Tsukasa initially seems shocked when he was pushed, and overall seems a little sad about it in Chapter 81, but he still remarks that Amane hates him with a smile. He's selfless about it. And later, when he learns Amane kills him, this feeling gets more complex. Despite Kou's attempts to convince him otherwise, I think Kou's reveal only made Tsukasa more convinced that Amane hates him, and this is shown in Chapter 111 when he laughs about it. It's just a funny joke to him at this point.

I...genuinely cannot reconcile this behavior with Tsukasa being a fake. I just can't! Why would the entity be this personal with Amane? Why would it share opinions that the supposedly "real" Tsukasa had? If AidaIro really is trying to write a story about a little boy being replaced by a supernatural entity, then they could at least do a better job of making them act different. TBHK makes it clear that supernaturals can experience human emotions just as strongly as actual humans, so it wouldn't surprise me if the god has its own personality and feelings, but for them to just...be the exact same as the human it replaced? I'm not buying it.

There is no difference between the Red House Tsukasa and the Supernatural Tsukasa that can't be explained away by the fact that people change as they grow older. Everything about Tsukasa's character arc as I've presented it is completely logical.

Conclusion

With so little info on the ancient man-eating god, it's kind of impossible to reach a proper conclusion at this point. All we really know about its personality is that it hungers for flesh and will grant any wish in exchange for it. With this in mind, it's incredibly easy to see why people think the god and Supernatural Tsukasa are one and the same, especially when the cast tends to treat them as such. I could just as easily write a post in favor of them being different as I could of them being the same.

And I think this is what AidaIro ultimately wants! I think AidaIro wants us to second guess ourselves. If I know anything about Aidairo, it's that they like to keep up on our toes and shock us with surprising twists. Who really knows what they have hiding up their sleeves?

Still, I feel the theory that the god replaced Tsukasa raises more questions than answers, and I hope I managed to explain my side of things.

[cakeandpudding1]

Hi, it's me again. How are you? I hope your day is great 😊 I am back to ask another request 🤭😅 Sorry if I ask too much this week 🙇‍♀️

Anyway, this time is about ror Poseidon (wanted to do Beel, but I am scared you already had enough with many Beel story 🤣🤣).

It was isekai-ed reader (kinda or sort off) like the reader is a witch and had read RoR, her favorite is Beelzebub. She hope she can went to RoR universe at least wanted to hug her bias once. But what she get is... she got asthraled (forgot the word. It was like your soul or ghost someshort of spiritual come to another place but you are kinda invisible and cannot be harmed since you are ghost and all.) instead you fall down to Poseidon lap.

Ror Poseidon of course angered and threw trident at you, only for it to just flew through you and you are unharmed. Unfortunately for both of you, you seems stuck with him because you try to get away or him get away it always end with you being dragged by force to him. He is very annoyed by not only because you are human but also because you insistent on wanting to meet Beelzebub. You both banter daily and all.

He grow fond of you, and deep down scared if you will suddenly move back or meet Beelzebub as he know your love for the flies (lowkey he though you are in love with the devil and not love him as a fans). And the day came where Poseidon cross with Beelzebub and he find himself so jealous at how you fawning over Beelzebub resulted in his very first argument with you and you huff and the reader having enough just kiss him... only to find herself go through him. Come the fluffy live between you two. The reader love teasing Poseidon who act as if he is not affected on outside but when it was only two of them, he is a big cuddler and softy.

Can you please made headcannon and story about it? It was up to you if it going to be after or before Ragnarok. Thank you so much. Have nice days and wonderful days 😘❤❤❤

Hi hun💕 thank you for this, it's so cute 😭 seeing a jelly Poseidon is actually funny to think abt ngl

Poseidon mini story+mini headcanons

Poseidon × isekai-ed!witch!reader

You find yourself scrolling through your phone, reading the newest chapters of record of Ragnarok, your all time favourite manga. Or maybe just something you read to pass the time, whatever. You fawned and giggled over your favourite character, specifically, Beelzebub. Poor baby, you wanted to give him a hug and kiss his face all over, since he didn't deserve any of this.

You so wanted to go there, but that was impossible. Your worlds were completely different, and he was fictional. He wasn't real. Or so you thought.

When you went to bed that night, your final thoughts being your bias, you suddenly open your eyes again, this time, the surroundings were different. It was all so colorful, like you were being sucked into a portal that led to someplace else.

"is this a dream?" You mumbled, before suddenly, you dropped, letting out a little squeak, looking up. Then...you saw the face of an angered god, who was just as surprised as you. But more pissed tho.

You landed on the lap of the tyrant of the sea, Poseidon. Great, just your luck. What the hell and how the hell did you end up on his lap? You couldn't even process when he took his trident.

You floated away, letting out little panicked sounds, as he got up, throwing it at you, only for it to pas through you, as you looked at him wide eyed. "Mortal, who do you think you are to commit such an act towards a god?"

When he heard your explanation, he let out a "tch" deciding to stop, before ordering you to leave, which you gladly did so. Well, that didn't go so well for you. With a magnetic force, your body was brought back to Poseidon, who looked at you like you just called him a bitch and slapped him in the face.

"I told you to leave."

"if you can see, I am struggling to!"

You recall reading a book about things like these, and you then start to connect the dots, coming to a conclusion that your soul had been transported to a completely different world, while your physical body was back in the other.

You and Poseidon tried to part ways, but no matter what you did, you kept being forced back to him. As mucha s he wanted to believe that you were faking it, you really looked like your were upset and struggling badly. So now he was just stuck with you.

At first, he found you annoying, the way you'd just float around while he walked, his movements always being watched by the little ghost on his ass, man this was a pain. You were a pathetic human, and your whines to meet Beelzebub were so irritating. But all that was passed him. It slowly came to him that he grew fond of you, he found himself entertained by watching you float around stupidly, and just be on his back all day, begging him to go near an ice cream truck so you could eat something tasty.

But when those thoughts came over him, another thought presented itself. What if you broke free from him, and set out to find Beelzebub? That, that really wasn't a nice thought. But the day came where by absolute luck, he walks passed Beelzebub, and he immediately looked behind him to find you squealing and fawning over the lord of the flies.

Poseidon had many fan girls, so why couldn't you have just been one of them? Before you could get near Beelzebub, Poseidon immediately distanced himself from the god, forcing you with him, making you pout and whine.

That was his last straw.

You were his now. So why do you look at other guys like that? It's obvious that you were sent to him for a reason. That resulted in an argument between the both of you. Before you finally had enough and decided to kiss him. You didn't know why, but your body acted on its own, what's worse is that you passed through him, as he stared at you with wide eyes, slowly calming himself. Before telling you to touch him.

You were confused, and still embarrassed, before you touched him, his body slowly turning spirit like, just like you. He had read about it before, and knew exactly what he was dealing with. And now that he knew the side effects, and everything else, he went over and kissed you, kissing you with so much passion. Knowing that nobody could see both of you. And from there, you both started a relationship.

The effects wore off, and he became a touchable and physical being once more. Looking at you, and then softly speaking. "You're mine now. Understand? That's an order."

Your heart beemed, you knew you loved beelzebub..but this exchange with Poseidon had completely altered your way of thinking.

He's not so bad after all...

________ random mini headcanons._____

- bro still does his best to make sure Beelzebub ain't anywhere close to you. Like literally he hates it when he even thinks about Beelzebub and you having an interaction. Nobody stealing his bae.

- he's cold and all, but when y'all are together, he's so needy.

- even if ur a ghost, you will either be floating round him, or be on his lap.

- sometimes, his brother's find him talking to himself, unaware that you were chatting with him. They fr thought he had an imaginary best friend.

- jealousy issues frfr

- when you told him about how you thought there could be a chance where you'll eventually be transported back to your world— mans was pissed. He would do so much to avoid that from happening, ordering servants to find anything about things like these, just to avoid it from happening.

- he couldn't afford to lose you. Not when you are one of the very, VERY few people he had took a liking to. So anyone that posed as a threat shall be demolished.

- yes I mean everyone.

- he hates how your eyes dart immediately to anyone who looked even the slightest bit of nice. Like he's literally over here wtf.

- I jus know that whenever you're hungry, he'd order his servant or smth to get him the most randomest shit like your favourite food, ice cream, or whatever you liked.

- people who serve it to him are dumbfounded when they see that Poseidon, THE Poseidon, is requesting...a dessert???

- only for him to stare at it with the most uninterested resting bitch face known to man. Until the food suddenly dissappears out of the blue without the god moving an inch. But they can't question it tho.

- and yo ass is just munching on the food, happily floating around and thanking him.

- his servants or anyone for that matter would be even more surprised when he started ordering them to buy stuff like clothes, jewelry, and all....

- was their god keeping a secret mistress??? But then again...they cannot ask. Or their heads would be served on a platter.

- he's a good boyfriend and hubby, y'all's marriage would come in so randomly after he just states in in a meeting with the other gods. Explaining everything and then dropping a "we're getting married in a few days"

- dang. Oh well, didn't matter. He was just happy that he was gonna seal the deal with you. All his, and he'd make sure you'd become immortal too, just like him.

____

@17kurodaayumu this was fun!

[highly-opinionated-ramblings]

The first time Sanji finds Zoro asleep in bed with Nami he screams loud enough to wake Luffy and Usopp from belowdecks and tries to toss the mosshead overboard. Nami and Vivi hold him back long enough for Luffy to show up and officially, effectively separate the two of them, and then everyone on board proceeds to tell Sanji he's a dumbass, and upset over nothing, and jeez, won't you give them a chance to explain before you fly off the handle like that?

"Explain, then," Sanji demands, glaring at Zoro.

"She had a nightmare," Zoro snaps back, as if that's all the explanation Sanji should require.

Sanji opens his mouth to start yelling again, but Nami smacks him in the back of the head before he can get a word out.

"You're overreacting, Sanji. You're making connections that aren't there. He was just trying to help."

"Yeah, Zoro's great at helping you get back to sleep," Luffy chimes in, cheerful as ever. "Whenever my brain is too excited to turn off, I always go sleep with Zoro."

Now that he mentions it, Sanji has seen Luffy on the couch draped on top of Zoro before. More than once.

"How did I know about this before you did?" Vivi wonders. "Oh Sanji, you really mustn't read too far into it. There's safety in numbers, and having someone else with you really does help you sleep more easily when you're out of sorts. Like when you were a kid, running to your parents' room after a nightmare."

"So, are we good now?" Usopp asks cautiously, as Sanji fumes.

"If Nami and Vivi say it's ok," he says through gritted teeth, and storms off back to the kitchen.

It isn't an isolated incident. When he gets up early in the mornings to start in on making breakfast, he often notices Zoro cuddling with one of the others. It still kind of weirds him out, no matter how casually everyone else seems to take it.

When they upgrade to their new quarters onboard the Thousand Sunny, sometimes Zoro disappears entirely, and Sanji just knows he's in the girls' room with either Nami or Robin. Robin, especially- a woman nearly a decade older than Zoro- he seems to end up in bed with a lot.

But Sanji knows, even as he struggles to actually accept it, that Zoro isn't a sexual kind of person. He's just not. He's like a robot sometimes, hardwired to put himself between his crewmates and any danger they run across. And, somehow, his moronic programming has led him to the conclusion that night terrors are his business to deal with, too. Even though that makes no sense.

But, then again, Zoro isn't really a sensible kind of person, either, is he? It's the others just letting him carry on with whatever it is he's doing that really bothers him, Sanji concludes.

But he lets it be. Whatever makes them happy. It's really nothing to him either way, is it?

Until it actually kind of is.

When Sanji wakes up in the dead of night from a nightmare about his father crushing his windpipe in, it's a quiet kind of waking. Gasping for air and trembling all over, yes, but dramatically crying out, no, thank god. He's able to sit up quietly and get his breath back and focus on making his hands stop shaking without disturbing any of the others.

Except, of course, for Zoro. It's like he has a sixth sense for Things Happening, and Sanji hates that about him.

Zoro doesn't say anything for a while, just stares at Sanji from his bunk, the bottom bunk closest to the door. Sanji glares back at him from the top middle, hoping he'll take the hint and just let it go.

"You alright?" Zoro finally asks quietly.

"Fine," Sanji snaps. "I'm fine."

Zoro nods, still staring at Sanji. "...You coming in?" he eventually asks, lifting up one arm, inviting Sanji under his blanket.

"No!" is all Sanji says, and rolls over, turning his back on Zoro, who doesn't press the issue.

But then, a couple weeks later, Sanji wakes up from another nightmare about his father, and this time it's so bad he wakes up crying.

He wordlessly gets up and goes out on deck and sits there for a long while, staring up at the moon and just breathing. It doesn't work that well. He feels shaken, down to his core, and for what? Nightmares are just a product of his own imagination, he reminds himself, and that doesn't work to calm him down all that much, either.

Eventually he starts to get really cold, so he goes back inside.

"Hey," he says, standing at the foot of Zoro's bunk.

"Hm?"

"Move over."

Zoro does, and Sanji awkwardly climbs in, and Zoro settles down beside him, warm and heavy and very present in a way that's hard to ignore. Sanji wonders what the hell he's thinking, this isn't going to work.

And then it does. He drifts off into a deep and dreamless sleep, with no more nightmares, and Zoro doesn't try to make it weird in the morning.

...Ok fine. You win this round, fucker. Turns out that when your imagination is being unreasonable, it really does help to placate it with assurances of safety. Doesn't mean that Sanji has to like it, but fine. He'll let it slide, he decides, and malcontentedly sets about preparing Zoro's favorite main course for dinner.

(thanks for reading, please don't tag this with any ships!)

[thewertsearch]

EB: and now i have all these sweet wind powers. EB: which is how i am making this car fly! GG: ohhhhhh! GG: that makes sense GG: dave had mentioned you reached the god tier

I think it’s funny that becoming a god hasn’t changed John’s personality, nor his modus operandi. He’s just as meandering as he's always been, and reaching the God Tiers simply enhanced his ability to meander.

If your Title does relate to your personality, then this would make a lot of sense. Perhaps you always get a power that helps you follow your own natural inclinations.

GG: but he did not say what it involved D: GG: he probably didnt want to make me worried EB: maybe, or he was just being some sort of aloof coolkid. GG: or that!

It’s nice that John and Jade are fully on the same page in this conversation, with access to more or less the same information. That’s pretty rare in this session, and it’s particularly rare with Jade.

For a long time, she was in the lonely position of knowing more than everyone else - and then, when Descend ruined everything, she was forced into the equally lonely position of understanding jack shit. When John declared that they needed to get Jade into the loop, there was real weight behind it, and it’s gratifying that we’re finally here.

GG: i wonder what space powers would be like?? […] GG: oh well EB: maybe you shouldn't rule it out though? EB: i mean, you did mention your dream self isn't COMPLETELY dead, remember?

I’ve been thinking about this.

See, the main problem with a Jade/Jadesprite merger is that when John died on his Quest Bed, he was completely supplanted by his Dream Self. There was no more Real John.

This wasn't a problem for him, because both Johns appeared to be the same person, with the same memories and consciousness. When John abandoned his realself, he didn't lose anything, apart from his sylladex.

Dream Jade, however, has completely diverged from Jade. They're clearly different people – so if one of them was erased in the merger, we’d be losing a unique individual.

Yes, if Jade died on her Quest Bed, her two selves might fuse into one entity, with both sets of memories - but there's no guarantee, especially when a Sprite is involved. There's a decent chance that Jade's ascension would destroy one of her incarnations, and that's too great a risk.

GG: why dont you tell me about your new friend? GG: he sure seems to be enjoying that horn! […] EB: he is just this silly guy i met when i woke up here. EB: he seemed to be curious about me and followed me around for a while. […] EB: also, another thing about him… EB: he has the queen's ring! […] GG: thats great! john you have to get that ring from him! EB: i've tried! i asked him politely for it and everything. EB: but he is very protective of it!

The Ring would be incredibly useful, if it wasn't destined for Earth.

As it stands, any attempt to use it is fraught with risk - and permanently separating it from WV would almost certainly doom the timeline.

EB: i think he is supposed to keep it. GG: you do? EB: yes. once i saw something in the clouds. EB: it was hard to tell what was going on, but i saw him! EB: im pretty sure it was the future, and he had the ring, and… […] EB: and then the cloud stopped showing me. EB: but i am pretty sure that some day… EB: he will have to wear it!

It doesn’t sound like John actually saw WV wearing the Ring. Seems more like he saw him holding the Ring, and jumped to the 'obvious' conclusion.

WV held the Ring for his entire Exile, and never used it once. I’m actually a little skeptical that he will wear it, at this point, especially since he's started dreaming about how much he doesn't want the thing.

[cornfields-and-bad-dreams]

Applin of my Eye

Rating: General

Ship: Leon/Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Applin Confession, Oblivious Leon, Misunderstanding.

Summary: Since coming to terms with your feelings for Leon, you've tried to confess, but it hasn't gone so well. Now that Valentine's Day is just around the corner a second wave of motivation has hit you, and you think you have the perfect, FOOLPROOF, way of getting the point across. If only it were that simple.

Valentine's Day always made you feel a little bad, at least since you were thirteen or so.  Before that, it was just a fun day where you shared cards with your classmates, had a little class party, and got gifts from your parents.  Usually consisting of candy, a card, and some sorta stuffie.  Now it was just a brutal reminder that you were alone.

Usually, you wouldn’t really care, and if you did you’d try not to let it sting too badly.  But recently things had changed, for about a year and a half now you’d slowly been falling in love with one of your best friends, none other than Galar’s reigning champion Leon.  Your feelings had come to a head back in October, up until then you’d done well to ignore and suppress them, but throughout the month it just kept getting harder and harder.  Then, the party happened.  It was a costume party held by Nessa on Halloween night, Leon was going to be there, but you didn’t know what he was going to be.  When you finally saw his costume it left you unable to deny your feelings for him any longer.  The costume itself did a lot for you, but the fact it was on Leon?  The way it hugged his form, and sparked your imagination with fantasies and scenarios?  Well, that was just the icing on the cake.

You agonized over your feelings for a bit, having finally admitted to yourself that you were absolutely head over heels for the man, unsure of how to proceed.  At first, you were convinced that he wouldn’t return your affection, how could he?  In your eyes, he was a god amongst men, and you were a lowly mortal.  But, after a short bout of self-deprecation, you were finally able to come to the conclusion that you just needed to tell him how you felt, no matter the cost.

Easier said than done.

You’d tired, really you had.  But something always got in the way, whether it be your nerves winning out in the end, someone interrupting you just as you were about to confess, or something happening to pull either of your attention away from the conversation.  Eventually, the holiday season rolled around as well, leaving both you and Leon busy.  By the time things calmed down you’d honestly lost all the courage you’d once had, and once again your mind raced with negative what-ifs.  Your main concern being that if you did confess and he didn’t reciprocate, then your friendship would be ruined.  All though, it had also occurred to you that if he didn’t feel the same then you weren’t sure if you would even want to be friends anymore.

Your feelings were all over the place, the thought of not having Leon in your life, whether romantically or platonically, physically pained you.  But so did the idea of all the embarrassment and awkwardness that would come in the aftermath of professing your love for Leon just for him to hit you with “I think we should just be friends.”  Despite it being unideal, you found a sort of sad comfort in the sort of Schrodinger's Delcatty situation you were in.  If you didn’t tell him how you felt, Leon couldn’t reject you nor could he reciprocate, either way, you kept him in your life and things didn’t change.  Even if that change could be for the better.

Except, as Valentine’s Day drew nearer, you grew more restless.  TV ads, shop displays, and the general talk of the holiday you heard wherever you went were starting to get to you.  The thought of happy couples spending the day together hugging and kissing and just being in love?  It made you jealous, but more so, self-conscious.  So, for the first time in a while, you’d started thinking about confessing again.

And goddamnit, you almost did it.  You had gotten so close to just spitting it out, but that Arceus-forsaken lump in your throat reared its ugly fucking head again.  And when you were alone in the comfort of your own home, you cried, and it was ugly.

That was yesterday, the 12th, this morning you woke up to a text from Leon asking if you’d want to spend Valentine's Day with him and some others who were without dates this year.  Truth be told the idea of spending Valentine’s Day with him platonically hurt a lot more than the idea of spending it alone, but you could never turn down an offer to hang out with him.

‘Sure, what are we doing?’

He responded a moment later saying that you were all going to be hanging at Gordie’s for the day, watching TV/Movies, playing games, and whatever else might be suggested.  It sounded nice, and you quite enjoyed hanging out at Gordie’s, he had a bunch of cool stuff.  Sometimes the thought had crossed your mind that if you weren’t madly in love with Leon, you could just seduce Gordie to have permanent access to his things.  But that was just a joke, mostly.

After confirming a few more details with Leon you readied yourself for the day and headed out.  You tried not to think about your love problems too much, desperately attempting to distract yourself with battling and various other tasks.  Yet the thought nagged at you in the back of your mind.  By three o’clock your stomach started to growl rather prominently and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything in a while.  Making your way to one of your favorite restaurants you took a seat at one of the patio tables and waited for the waiter to take your order.  As you waited, you happened to tune into the conversation from the next table over.  A pair of boys, who you’d assume were somewhere in their late teens, were discussing Valentine’s Day.

“So, you’re planning on asking out Derrick?”

“Yeah, I figure doing it tomorrow would be romantic, right?”

“Definitely, but how are you gonna do it?  Any big plans?”

“I’m gonna give him an Applin, you know what they say about giving someone an Applin, right?”

“OH!  That’s a great idea man.  He’ll say yes for sure.”

You froze for a moment.  An Applin, why hadn’t you thought of that?  It would be easier to give Leon an Applin than it would to sputter out some nervous confession.  You smiled, plan in mind, as soon as you were done eating you’d head straight over to route 5 to catch the perfect little declaration of love.  Love, Loveballs?  LOVEBALLS!  You nearly jumped out of your seat as the thought raced to mind, you had a whole mess of Loveballs back home.  Honestly, you had a whole box full of random Pokeballs shoved in your closet, ones you had acquired through various means over time that you saw no real need for, until now.  Course, to use a Loveball you’d need to battle with your own Applin, but that was no problem for you and your precious little À la mode.  A Loveball would be perfect for this, maybe a bit extra, but it would certainly get the point across.  Something that could come in handy with Leon, you loved the man to bits, but he could be kinda dense at times.

Finishing up at the restaurant you hurried home to retrieve your Loveballs, stopped at the nearest Pokecenter to add À la mode to your team, and finally made your way to route 5.  Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you stepped into the tall grass and began your hunt for an Applin.

It took a bit to find one, and even longer to find a female one.  Yes, you knew that you could still catch a male one with the Loveball, hell you didn’t even technically need À la mode himself for the task, it just made the catch rate higher.  And seeing as Applin on route 5 were usually between Lvl. 16 and 18 it wouldn’t be too hard to catch with the regular catch rate of a Pokeball.  But if it hadn’t already been proven to both yourself and countless others, then this whole situation would be proof enough that your natural instinct in life is to make things way more complicated than they have to be, even if it was just for show or better yet, pride.

After about 2 hours you finally had a brand new Applin in a Loveball, you grinned ear to ear as you made your way home, excitement building in your chest.  Yet, by the time you passed through your front door, that excitement had turned to anxiety.  Sitting at your dining table you stared at the Loveball in front of you, your heart beat a bit faster than usual and your stomach was tied in knots.  Were you really gonna do this?  Were you actually gonna confess your feelings to Leon on Valentine’s Day?  This could end badly, just oh so badly, there was still time to back out.  You could release the Applin and pretend the whole dramatic idea had never crossed your mind.

No.

You were gonna stand your ground, you wouldn’t let your nerves get the better of you again.  Not this time.  Nodding to yourself you placed the Loveball on the small table next to your front door, ready for you when you left the next day.  The rest of the night consisted of you deciding on an outfit for tomorrow, cooking dinner, and relaxing the best you could until you went to bed.

Surprisingly you slept well, at least in the sense that you actually slept, normally your nerves would have kept you up all night.  But they did manifest in your dreams, one after another depicting various ways your love confession could go sour.  Finally rousing from your own mental torture you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and set to work getting ready.  When the time finally rolled around to head off for Gordies you halted a moment at the door, staring down at the Loveball you’d nestled amongst the fake decorative fruit you kept in a bowl.  Why you kept decorative fruit was a mystery even to yourself.  Groaning faintly you grabbed the Loveball and stuffed it in your bag, finally heading out for the day.

Hanging out with everyone at Gordie's was a blast, though throughout the day you kept trying to figure out when would be a good time to give Leon the Applin, you wanted it to be just the two of you, but couldn’t devise a good enough excuse to get him alone.  As the day was winding down, and talk of ending the “party” was brought up Leon commented that he needed to be heading out soon anyway, apparently, he was gonna be spending time with his family tomorrow and had planned on staying the night back home in Postwick.  You had a wonderful idea.

“Leon?”

You approached him near the door, where he was getting his shoes and jacket on.

“Yeah?”

He smiled at you, straightening up from slipping on his sneakers.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to join me on the train ride home, it’s on the way to Postwick and I’d love to spend some time together, just you and I.”  You flashed him a grin.

“Of course, anything for my biggest fan.”

Leon laughed as he slung his arm around your shoulders, you just groaned.  He’d started calling you that a while back as a joke, it had since grown a bit old for your tastes, but it made him smile, and you liked it when he smiled.

Gathering your things you headed out with Leon to the train station.  It was a relaxing ride, and for a moment you’d forgotten about the Loveball Applin rolling around in your bag.  That is until you’d reached your stop.  It was a little after 11:30, and you still had a bit of a walk to your place, as Leon strolled alongside you, your deadline of confessing on Valentine's Day was soon to pass.  It was now or never.  Fortuitously, the quickest way to your place was a shortcut through a rather beautiful park, the perfect place for a love confession.  In the middle of the park was a gazebo, and the city had lit it up with pretty pink and red lights, as well as decorating it with fresh arrangements of roses.  Stepping into the gazebo you turned to look at Leon.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous.”  The lights reflected in his eyes as he looked up at the ones hanging from the beams.

“It looks like it could be the setting for a confession scene in some cheesy romance movie.”  You gripped your bag tightly.

“Haha, yeah.  I can just imagine it.”  Leon smiled, Arceus, that smile could make your heart flutter every time.

Checking your phone it read 11:56, four minutes, it was REALLY now or never.  Swallowing the infamous lump in your throat you opened your bag.

“I actually have something for you.  I didn’t want to make a big deal back at Gordie’s but now that it’s just us, I want to give it to you.”

“Oh?”

Finding the Loveball you quickly grabbed it and presented it to Leon, holding your breath.

“A Loveball?”  Leon blinked a few times before taking it from your hand.

“T-there’s a Pokemon inside.  You should, um, let it out.”

11:58

“Oh!  Of course.”

The Loveball opened and a small burst of light shot out, fading away to reveal the Applin.  Time seemed to freeze as you waited for Leon’s response.  He grinned, an excited laugh escaping his lips.

“Ah sweet, you caught me an Applin?  I’ve wanted one for a while now.”  Reaching down he scooped the Pokemon into his arms.  “How’d you know?”

Dense, the man was fucking dense.

“Lucky guess I suppose.”

“Haha, well it paid off, I love her.  Now I just got to decide what to evolve her into.  You have an Applin too right?  Any suggestion?”

“Uh, I’m partial to Appletun, but it’s up to you.”

“True, maybe I should talk to Raihan about it.  He is a dragon trainer of course, or maybe Milo?  He’d have input on the grass typing.”  Leon started to ramble a bit.

Looking down at your phone it now read 12:02.

“Fucking hell.” You mumbled.

“Did you say something?”

Leon cocked his head, shaking your own you stuffed your phone in your pocket.

“Just talking to myself, it’s past midnight though, so we should probably get going.  You still need to head for Postwick.”

“Oh right, I nearly forgot.”

Leon returned the Applin to its ball and motioned for you to lead the way.  The rest of the walk home was filled with Leon telling you about the plans he had with Hop and the rest of his family later that day.  Despite the failure of a confession, it still warmed your heart to hear him talk so lovingly about them.

Making it to your place you stopped out front.

“Thanks for walking me home Leon.”

“It’s no problem, I love spending time with you.  Thanks for the Applin again, I’ll make sure to take great care of her.”

“I know you will Lee.”

Smiling, Leon placed his hand on your shoulder.

“You’re an amazing friend, I’m really lucky to have you in my life.”

Schrodingers fucking Delcatty.

“Back at ya.”

Waving goodbye Leon headed off for the train station, in the completely wrong direction.  After you quickly reminded him where it was he set off on his second attempt, fading away in the dark of the night.

“Back at ya?”  You groaned, heading inside.  “Fucking stupid.”

Hop woke up to the smell of coffee wafting upstairs from the kitchen, seeing as his parents were more avid tea drinkers it could only mean one thing.

“Leon!”  Hop jumped out of bed, not bothering to change out of his sleepwear.

Hurrying downstairs Hop practically drifted into the kitchen, Leon stood at the counter fixing himself a cup of coffee.

“When did you get home?  I waited a long time for you, but you never showed.”  Hop mildly scolded as he made his way over to Leon.

Leon chuckled apologetically, giving Hop a wave.

“Morning, I got back kinda late, well past midnight.  I was hanging out with friends yesterday, then I ended up accompanying [Y/N] home last night.”

Hop sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Well, you’re here now, I guess that’s what really matters.”

“Of course, glad you understand.”  Leon patted Hop on the shoulder

“I’d understand a lot more if you made me pancakes.”  He grinned mischievously.

“Why didn’t I see that coming?”  Leon sighed turning around to gather the needed ingredients and such.

Hop laughed, heading for the kitchen table, huffing as he saw Leon’s backpack lying on it.

“How many times do you need to be told to hang your bag up in the entryway?”

Hop reached for the bag, pulling it from the table, as he did so the pink Loveball rolled out from the open top.

“What the?”

Hop was certain he’d seen all of Leon’s Pokemon, and he was even more certain that none of them were in Loveballs.

“What’s the matter?”

Leon turned to him, a bowl cradled in his arm as he whisked a batch of batter.

“Since when do you use Loveballs?”  Hop asked, holding up the pink ball.

“Oh, [Y/N] gave it to me last night, it’s an Applin.  I guess they noticed I’d wanted one and got it for me.”

Hop blinked.

“What?”  Leon stopped whisking.

“[Y/N] gave you an Applin in a Loveball, on Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, why?”

Hop knew his brother could be a little oblivious at times, but this was a level of stupidity that he’d never seen Leon reach before, and he prayed to Arceus he’d never reach again.

“Lee, I’m gonna need you to think about that statement very carefully, and focus on what all those aspects could mean together.”

Leon scrunched his face up in confusion, setting the bowl of batter down he crossed his arms in thought.  Hop could almost see the wheels turning in Leon’s head as he thought hard.  And as if he were the human lead in that silly little kids show from both their childhoods, with that funny little shiny Rockruff, and her perfectly placed blue pawprint clues, Leon connected the pieces of the mystery together masterfully.  A look of realization, and a bit of horror, took over his face as he finally came to the conclusion.

“Was [Y/N] trying to confess their feelings to me!?”  He hollered.

“Keep your voice down, Mom and Dad are still asleep.”  Hop hushed.  “And I don’t know for sure, but I’d assume they were.”

“That would make so much sense, especially with the Gazebo.”  Leon gripped the edge of the counter tightly, staring down into the bowl of batter without actually looking at it.

“Gazebo?”  Hop questioned lightly.

“Doesn’t matter.”  Leon shook his head lightly, pushing himself back from the counter.  “I gotta go talk to [Y/N]”

Leon rushed for the entryway, grabbing his jacket and starting to put his shoes on.

“Woah there, slow down Lee.  What are you doing?”

Hop followed behind, placing himself between Leon and the front door.

“I have to clear things up with [Y/N].”

Hop sighed, shaking his head.

“Lee, we have plans today, besides, you’re still in your pajamas.”

Leon looked down, noting that he was, in fact, still wearing his ratty old tank top and loose sleep pants.

“You have a point there, but I feel terrible, they did something so romantic and I went and ruined it by letting it all soar right over my head.”

Leon rubbed at his face, hiding behind his hands.

“Lee, it’s gonna be fine.”  Hop placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.  “You’ll clear things up with them later, after you’ve gotten dressed and we spend the day together, besides, it’ll give you time to think about what exactly you’ll say right?”

Leon lowered his hands, giving Hop a tired smile.

“Yeah, you’re right.  Maybe I can ask Mom and Dad for some advice.”

“That’s the spirit.  Now, can you finish making my pancakes?”

Leon huffed, breaking out into a grin, ruffling Hop’s hair he slung his arm around his shoulder and dragged him back into the kitchen.

“Is that all you care about?”

It had been about two days since ‘The Incident’, you hadn’t tried talking to Leon yet and he hadn’t messaged you either, which had you feeling conflicted.  On the one hand, you weren’t particularly ready to talk to him, on the other, the thought kept running through you’re mind that he’d finally realized what the loveball Applin meant and was now actively ignoring/avoiding you.  It was definitely paranoia, you understood that, but understanding it didn’t make it go away.  Regardless, you laid back on the couch, looking through the videos YouTube suggested for you, you desperately scanned over the thumbnails looking for something to distract yourself with, unfortunately, nothing caught your eye.  Suddenly your phone buzzed.

‘Are you home?’

It was from Leon, your blood ran cold.

‘Yeah, why?’

You felt you knew why but needed some confirmation.

‘Can I come over?  I need to talk to you, it’s important.’

You felt your stomach tie into knots.  You, REALLY, didn’t want to see Leon right now.  You weren’t mad of course, but after the other night's failed confession?  You were feeling less than stellar.  You hadn’t even left your apartment since then.

‘Are you sure?  It’s getting kinda late, isn’t it?’

It wasn't that terribly late, but it was worth a shot.

‘That doesn’t matter, we need to talk, and it can’t be done over text.  Please?’

You wanted to say no, Arceus you wanted to say no, yet despite everything that had happened Leon was still your number one weakness.

‘Okay, you can come over.’

Leon thanked you, saying he’d be over in a few.  Taking a deep breath, you calmed your growing nerves and waited.

Leon must have been nearby already, seeing as it only took about ten minutes for him to knock on your door.

"Hey, Leon."

Opening the door you greeted him with the happiest and calmest tone you could muster.

"Hey, thanks for letting me come over."  He smiled nervously as he stepped inside.

“Well, you did say it was important.”

You gave a forced chuckle, your heart pounding in your chest as you shut the door.  Leon nodded without a word, though his eyes spoke plenty enough for him.  You could tell he was just as anxious as you, yet it didn’t make you feel any better.  You stood in silence a moment, the two of you just staring, you’d expected him to say something.

“Sooo, what did you want to talk about?”  You finally decided to break the silence.

Leon swallowed heavily, blinking a few times before seemingly mustering up the nerve to speak.

“It, uh, has to do with the Applin you gave me.”  Slinging his bag off from his shoulders Leon rummaged in it a moment before pulling out a loveball. “I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but it took Hop pointing out the significance of everything for me to realize what you were trying to say.  Or, at least, what I think you were trying to say.”

Leon stared down at the ball in his hand, running his thumb back and forth across it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get it at first, I certainly feel like an idiot, it’s so obvious in hindsight.”  He gave a soft nervous laugh.

Clearing his throat he looked up at you.

“Regardless, I um, I keep finding it hard to, uh, find my words.  So, here.”  He held out the loveball.

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat, was he returning the Applin?  Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you slowly reached out to take the loveball from him.  You felt weak and shaky, half expecting your legs to give out on you at any moment.  Holding the loveball in your hand just made it worse, quickly, you moved past Leon to set it on the counter separating your kitchen from your living room.

“T-thanks.”

Wiping the tears from your eyes you wondered why thanking him was your immediate response, though to be honest, you weren’t sure how one would normally respond to a situation like this.

“Oh, uh.”  Leon seemed confused, looking back and forth between you and the loveball. “Aren’t you gonna let it out?”

Oh, that felt like adding an insult to injury.

“No.”  The word came out a bit angrier than you’d intended, you adjusted your tone going forward. “I get it, Leon, you don’t feel the same way about me as I do you so you’re returning the Applin. I don’t need to see it.”

You’d taken to squeezing your hands, your gaze drifting away from Leon.  If you were looking at him though, you would have seen his eyes widen and his complexion pale a bit.  Suddenly he was waving his hands.

“NO!  No no no, you misunderstand, that’s my fault, I’m sorry.  I should have been clearer.”

You looked back in time to see Leon grab the ball off the counter and place it in your hand, his one hand holding your wrist his other keeping the Loveball in your palm.

“Just open it, I promise.  Trust me.”

You blinked a few times in shock, but seeing Leon's soft hopeful smile filled you with comfort.  You nodded your head and went to send out whatever was in the ball.

“Wait, wait.”  Leon stopped you suddenly.

Looking around, Leon proceeded to move your dining table and chairs over to the side, as well as push some other furniture and stuff around.  Once he seemed pleased with the space he’d made he came back over to your side.

“Okay, you can continue now.”

Giving a small laugh you smiled and called out the Pokemon.

A flash of light shot out from the loveball, and even before the Pokemon had fully appeared you could tell it was bigger than an Applin.  Once it was fully present it took you a second to register what you were looking at, but once you had, you gasped.

“A Ponyta?”

You grinned and squealed in joy as you approached the adorable little pastel Pokemon.  It whinnied and danced around a moment before coming over to where you’d settled on your knees near it.  You ran your hands through its mane and over its coat of fur.

“I know how much you’ve wanted one, and how unlucky you’ve been with finding one for yourself.  So, I spent the majority of today and last evening looking for this little guy.  I actually got lost in Glimwood Tangle for a bit, Madame Opal had to help me find my way back to the main path.  I’m not sure how she knew I was lost but thank Arceus she did.”

You laughed along with Leon, combing your fingers through the Ponyta’s mane some more.  Giving it a final scratch behind its ear you returned it to the loveball and stood up.  Holding the ball with both hands you smiled looking down at the heart on the front of it.

“You didn’t have to do all that.”  You said softly.

Leon stepped closer, gently taking hold of your wrists.

“I wanted to.”

Looking up at him you smiled, moving your right hand up to cup his cheek.

“Oh, Lee.”

Moving your hand to the back of his head you pulled him towards you as you leaned in closer, connecting your lips.  Leon wrapped an arm around your waist, the other coming up to cradle the back of your head as well.  The two of you stayed like that for a moment, enjoying your first kiss, after breaking away Leon spoke.

“I’m sorry I caused you so much stress.”

“Well, if I’d been able to gather enough courage to confess properly in the first place there wouldn’t have been any confusion.”

Leon laughed a bit.

“Why don’t we say we’re both at fault and call it even?”

“Deal.”