#and just because i have finished the games does not mean that i am gonna stop gushing about these two

[linkons-most-wanted]

Death and Rebirth chaotic thoughts!

Spoilers below the cut. Hopefully mobile Tumblr won't troll anyone.

SPOILERS BELOW HERE

I will be doing more structured things with these thoughts but I gotta ramble now that I've finished the new main story content! Still drooling at the event tho, we're gonna get even more little reveals I'm sure...

In no particular order:

We got explicit confirmation that Philos's iterations in the myths are parallel potential versions of the same planet! In a GORGEOUS cinematic, at that. I think I might have to screen cap that so I can attach it to a post where I talk about Philos lore. We also know that every version of Philos eventually dies (as all planets do). This actually also creates the possibility that not all versions of Philos started as Earth--that's actually only referenced in Xavier's Where Shooting Stars Fall anecdote, and we see graphics of other versions of Philos that are whole planets (not with the shattered plates) covered in sad (as in Rafayel's Philos myth) or fire (as in Beyond Cloudfall). It also means that Earth can have futures in which it doesn't become Philos--like Dawnbreaker's future. It's maybe a little anticlimactic that they're all parallel? But at the same time a relief to my lore brain because it means I can stop looking for clues about how they're supposed to reconcile. Head-canon wise I still like the idea of certain overlaps between the various timelines, such as Xavier and Sylus recognizing some of the same Philosian tech.

EVER CAUSED THE CHRONORIFT CATASTROPHE BY FUCKING WITH MC, I am SO proud of myself for piecing this together before from the timing, and I even have receipts! I had my suspicions that she was "created" rather than born (since she's elsewhere described as being born from the planet's core) so getting the confirmation that she's "from Deepspace" is extremely exciting.

And on that note, SYLUS SAVED BABY MC. 😭 I am going to be chewing on the bars of my enclosure for more details about that in the event, I hope we get more tidbits... if not you can count on me for a Sylus PoV with head canon to fill it all in 😂 I think what I'm gonna do is add alt chapters to Cosmic Interlude so the current chapters will still be there, but there'll be alternate/additional chapters with the updated canon. My secondary goal with Cosmic Interlude was always to provide a streamlined/clarified version of what we know from canon (partly so I can keep it straight myself) so I def want it to be able to still do that. Folks can then skip the "old" chapters if they want, or read them all for ideas on different ways things could have gone (and we know this game loves branching timelines). And speaking of timelines...

We get an even more primordial origin story for Sylus x MC???? 🥹 Two cosmic beings, forced together because only they could match the other's strength, destined for one to kill the other, but they escape and reshape the destiny of the entire universe 🥹🥹🥹 I'm sure it's partly my bias but Sylus backstory just hits different. I wonder if we'll get a myth from that setting!!???

And that makes me wonder--how does Sylus know about this past life? Did he fall to Philos like a shooting star and wind up amongst the dragons? Did their consciousness energy disperse into the cosmos, and then manifest again on that version of Philos and he's managed to maintain one stream of consciousness since then? If so, when did those memories return to him? Perhaps in dreams, perhaps in the Deepspace Tunnel... so many yummy options... Speaking of delicious, the way he knew RIGHT AWAY that she'd "eaten" the spatium core, and how tempting it must smell... 😋 there will be smut about it.

Switching gears to Zayne, my poor baby. He's going THROUGH IT. And we are finally getting some reveals to all these things that have been foreshadowed. I saw some people expressing confusion that "Dawnbreaker" doesn't remember MC, but I think it's important to realize that the "Dawnbreaker" that manifests isn't necessarily the same one we see in the Anecdotes--Zayne's whole thing is "yin and yang", so I think we're seeing a more "primordial" Dawnbreaker, the ur-yin of Zayne, if you will. The inevitability of death given physical form. The Still in Dark anecdote demonstrates that even this side of Zayne is capable of compassion--through accessing the "energy" of Dr Zayne's yang. Likewise, Dr Zayne is capable of cold utilitarianism through the "energy" of Dawnbreaker's yin. I'm sure we'll get lots of layers here, my gut says trust the writers.

Also, I'm pretty sure we did not successfully destroy the energy core?? I'll look extra carefully when I go through and annotate everything (the results of which will land here) but I do believe that core remains a loose thread, though the press conference was still successfully delayed.

Zayne attempting to disappear at the end is SO him (they have made this a pillar of his personality to the point that it was a key event in the Tomorrow's Catch 22 AU, even) and also so infuriating. I'm so glad we found him before they closed out the chapter, even if it ended on a tense note! I'd say odds are very high we'll get something at the start of the next main story content (whenever that happens) that's like "Zayne was kind of distant and then after his leave he returned to the hospital as if nothing had happened" since episodic universes like this one need that kind of reset. But we'll see.

The reveal that Benedict is basically a shapeshifting Wanderer is FASCINATING, and I think it's implied he was originally "created" at Mt Eternal? Is he the Wanderer that Zayne kept going back to re-freeze, maybe? (as we saw in Snowy Serenity) And now he's escaped? That could explain why Zayne didn't immediately recognize him and how he knew about William. I also think it's interesting how Benedict said, of killing William, "Even I would have hesitated" and we know that Zayne actually did hesitate. So I think we see how easily provoked Zayne's guilt is here--and/or the implication that Zayne was indeed "possessed" by Dawnbreaker in order to kill William, as some have suggested.

I'm also glad we FINALLY have clarity that Zayne was 12 during the Chronorift Catastrophe and those events happened after he met MC, because there's a few errors in his timeline that made it hard for me to pin down whether his dreams began during the catastrophe or whether they were prophetic. I think we'll get a bit more clarity in the event content, too.

I'm also really going to be chewing on the part where he ended up needing to restrain MC (other than that it's hot, okay, idk, it's the second time the Zayne writers have tied someone up and injected them and we're into it) because she was "too strong"--I'm really curious how this manifested, and whether it contributed to that flicker of murderous intent from Dawnbreaker later. The natural assumption is to assume she was just sort of mindlessly flailing to escape--but what if what she experienced as unconsciousness was something more akin to possession? Or her new powers spiraling out of control like Zayne's Evol does? Aaaaah I want answerssss

Last thoughts for now are that I find the contrast between Sylus and Zayne so interesting, especially since they're my two favorite LIs. Sylus is a creature who defies fate, whereas Zayne is bound by it. Sylus's desires influence him (as when he needs to distract himself from the smell of the spatium core from MC) but do not control him. Whereas as Zayne tries desperately to keep everything under control, those desires inevitably end up controlling him. More of the conflict in Sylus's chapters is external (things he and MC need to react to) whereas more of the conflict in Zayne's chapter is internal (decisions he has to make, concerns about his state/motives, etc).

The actual last thing I'll add her (if you read this far, ilu) is that I'll continue updating my lore project GitHub with all the new content. If you've got even a small amount of coding experience, you should find GitHub desktop and Obsidian pretty approachable if you want to explore the project with all the links intact! So so so so so much was foreshadowed and I'm going to be geeking out going through all of it. I'll probably also post some summaries to this blog as well!

[coffeeanddaggers]

Well...I beat the game and I cried for like 3 hours afterwards

I'll post more on my thoughts about it later when I am able to sit down and collect them...

But I needed to post these two cards from the ending...while I wish for more of a hey this is what Rook and Lucanis are up to now...I think this is cute.

[sunnywalnut]

Honestly at first I thought this was somebody complaining about how people ask to pet service dogs and I was about to agree that yeah, it can be annoying but in the end kinda harmless unless you actually try to do so despite the answer and then right around the time I got to the words "indie developer" I quickly realized that this was in fact about video games

honestly I hate “can you pet the dog?!?” not for any of the common reasons but because it was initially interesting as a proposition of “can you interact with the world in a way that is not within the primary mechanical loop” and that very quickly fell away to being “well now any indie developer making a game has to have a pet the dog button or they’re going to get letters”

[wxxpingangxls]

mr munch!

he slammed the door, huffing. "what the fuck is your problem?" you asked, watching as he throws his gym bag on the floor.

"no one believes i have game!" he whined. armin scrunched his face as soon as he heard you snort, not taking your eyes off the tv, once. "something funny?" he asked, clearly unhappy with your response. he pathetically plumped himself on the sofa next to you.

armin was a nerd. your typical tv nerd. one who knew wayyy too much about things that were less than ideal, academically gifted and zero game when it came to getting women. i mean it wasn't his fault that he was sooo eager to please his teachers. sure, he was cute with his glasses that seemed more like a magnifying glass glued to his face, and not to mention that fuck ass bob of his. but you know what, he wore it well. and you had to give him that much.

"ok so, how do you pick up a pretty girl then?" you asked, now directly facing him. he fiddled with his bony fingers before swallowing harshly. "well?"

"well i'm charming?"

"according to who?" you bellowed out in laughter as he pouted. "you're a nerd, and there's nothing wrong with that," your hand rubbed on his knee as you gave him a pitiful smile.

"are you...giving me pity right now?"

"no? i'm comforting a friend," you said curtly.

"can i ask you something?"

you smiled expectantly, knowing that he was probably going to splutter out some fuckary. however, nothing could ever prepare you for what came out of his big mouth.

"what's a munch?"

your eyes widened in shock.

"is it a bad thing? everyone was asking if i was a munch, so i just said yes,"

"why the fuck would you say yes to something you don't know the meaning of?"

"well to be honest, it seemed like a good thing..." he put his head down as his face grew hot.

you weren't any better because now your palms were sweaty. "armin, aren't you like, a know-it-all?"

"oh please, i'm not that smart..."

"clearly," you couldn't help but pity the poor baby. and he didn't like that. he didn't like it when others looked down on him especially with pity.

"so, are you gonna tell me?"

"a munch is a man who loves to eat pussy, okay?"

"but i've never...done that before,"

"i can tell," you huffed out while he visibly blushed. "well now the whole school knows that you loves to eat pussy," you giggled loudly. you half expected armin to whine like he always does, but he stays silent. "oh come on, i'm just kidding, laugh a little,"

"so, being a munch sounds fun, i wanna try it out," he turns to face you.

"sorry? armin, are you fucking okay? you don't even know how to eat it,"

"how am i supposed to learn?"

and that's how you ended up with your legs held all the way up to your ears, with armin and his bob between your legs. his tongue piercing swirled on your clit. "you're...you're a fucking liar!" you squealed, as his mouth suckled on your clit. he moaned, completely ignoring you. unbeknownst to you, he was smirking as your syrupy slick dribbled down your ass crack. but that didn't stop him.

his tongue trailed all the way down to the winking hole, as his thumb rubbed your bud with ease. you were unbelievably wet as he tongue moved up towards your hole, squeezing it into your tight pussy. you pulled on his hair, bringing him impossibly closer to it, smothering him completely. each time, his tongue subtly stretching you out. he grunted and groaned, sending vibrations straight to your heart. that lying bastard. he's not fucking new to this shit.

you mewled, watching him remove himself from your cunt for a hot minute. "what's wrong? i'm just showing you what a munch is," he slyly grinned, his chin covered in nothing but slick and saliva. fuck, was he nasty, fingers never leaving your clit. your toes started throwing gang signs as tears formed in your eyes. before you could tell him to move his ass and finish his meal, he's already attaching his mouth in a suction motion onto your clit. you played with your nipple as your hips literally bucked up into his face, greedily trying hard to get more. more of that attention he was giving to the entirety of your sweet pussy.

honestly, you were mad you hadn't just sat on his face to shut him up sometimes. and trust me, you'd thought about it. the ball of his tongue piercing rolled continuously on your clit with speed, as you damn near closed your legs in overwhelming pleasure. this nerd was flicking your clit raw, but you loved every moment of it. "just like that," you whined, yanking his hair a little too harsh. if you had pulled it the right way, he might've just cum in his pants for the second time that night.

"mfphm, fuck armin!" you squealed a little too loud, that wretched piece of metal and his tongue making you cry tears of and pleasure. it seemed almost sadistic with the way he kept repeating the same motion that made your legs shake and quiver. "okay, armin, m'cummin!" and all those words did, was spur him on. watching as he attempted to push his face into your sticky cunt, your leg locked up, with your back arching steeply.

you came hard, but that didn't stop armin from flicking his tongue on your clit, over and over again. and the worst part? you couldn't get him to move away. "okay, i get it!" you moaned out, damn near screaming. he was lucky that your legs felt weak, or else he would've been crushed by your thighs, not that he would mind. "armin, i'm done!" you sobbed out, and the obscene sounds of him slurping and sucking on your pussy never stopped. your hand moved to place itself on his head and attempt to push him away.

a feeling arose in your tummy, something unfamiliar, and at the point you were crying hot tears. you even couldn't let out one coherent sentence before you came again. even harder than the first. you genuinely felt ethereal, ringing in your ears and seeing nothing but white. your heartbeat was in your ears as he finally removed himself after riding your orgasm out.

two slim fingers slowly slipped into your cunt. "you bastard,"

"hey, that's not anyway to talk to the guy that just gave you the orgasm of your life," he pouted, fingers curving upwards towards your g-spot as you moaned out loud. he swiftly pulled them out before slapping your cunt.

you sat up immediately, and gave him one harsh slap across his face. "you said you've never eaten pussy, what the hell was that?" you huffed out.

"thanks!"

"it wasn't a compliment,"

that sneaky bastard. of he knows how to eat it. but now you had to find out if he could lay it down. well, you actually didn't have to worry about that, cuz baby, despite cumming in his pants twice, he still had more in him.

that fucking nerd.

[temporarywelcome]

Please? - Peter Maximoff

Word Count: 3.5k

REQUESTED!

The Ask: I humbly ask for a Peter Maximoff smut, I'm thinking y/n either a: distracts him while he is playing his arcade games, b: using whipped cream to give him a lil sweet treat while fucking, or c: literally any smut of this man, I need him. Preferably him being a little cocky/silly, but when you actually do anything he is a whimpering mess praising you. - @envy-of-greed

I give you... Option A.

WARNINGS: SMUT! oral (m recieve), handjob, mommy kink, praise, reader is a tease, reader is MEAN, sub!peter, dom!reader, Peter becomes a MESS, reader calls him "pup" and "puppy" like once, aftercare, alluding to punishment

A/N: gonna work on a Spencer Reid fluff/comedic fic next

_____

Peter was annoying as hell.

She loved him to bits, she would do absolutely anything for him, but she was allowed to admit her boyfriend was a complete terror?

Y/N was peacefully sitting in her room when her telephone had rang. Placing down her magazine, she reached for it, bringing it to her ear, “Hello?”

“Babeeee,”

What a surprise this was. Peter Maximoff, who usually would just show up unannounced with his super speed, decided to give her a phone call?

“Peter? What’s the occasion?” she asked with a smile, leaning back against her pillows, twirling the telephone’s wire in her newly manicured fingers. 

“Eh, I just remember you saying you like phone calls, the bonding or whatever. So i wanted to give you one.”

That made her heart melt. This little terror was sometimes a complete angel as well. “Yeah…” Y/N replied, “I love phone calls. Your voice sounds so nice on the phone, by the way,”

She could already picture him blushing. “I-It does? I mean, of course, yeah it does! I’m Peter freaking Maximoff, babe. Everything about me is top-tier,”

“You could work on your baking skills,” she mused, remembering literally every single time she would attempt to bake something with him. Flour everywhere. Remnants of cake or brownie batter on his face because he just had to eat some (a lot). Firealarm going off. Burnt baked goods. Every. Single. Time.

“Bitch! Every baking failure is your fault for always distracting me!” he whined in protest.

“How the hell do I distract you? I’m baking too!” 

“ ‘Cause you’re pretty,” Peter replied cheekily, and she knew he would have wiggled his eyebrows if she could see him, “How am I supposed to focus?”

“Stop making excuses for your terrible baking skills. Even if I wasn’t there, you would be a mess,”

“For different reasons,” Peter scoffed, “I can’t bake by myself, I need your guidance,”

“But you can’t bake with me either because you allegedly get distracted. Sounds like you just can’t bake,”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, making her laugh, “Let’s get to more important business: when can I pick you up?”

“I wasn’t aware of being picked up at all,”

“Yeah well I’m picking you up. I wanna spend some time with you!” she could hear his excited tone that was so uniquely Peter. Everything about him was unique. Everything about him was different and weird and strange and she loved every part of him. 

“Well…” Y/N sighed, “I was going to start on some homework…”

“Boooo! College student booooo!”

“Shit, excuse me for wanting an education. Better than planning on living in my mom’s basement for the rest of my life,” she teased.

“Ouch. Fine. Can’t you do your homework later?”

“I’ve been procrastinating on it,” Y/N set down her magazine, getting off of the bed and walking to her desk, stretching her body as far as she could with the limits of the phone cord. Fingertips brushing against her notebook, she was able to grab it, nestling back into her bed and opening it, “Shit, it’s a lot.”

“Who cares? Finish it tomorrow!”

“It’s due in the morning.”

She could already tell he was pouting, she knew him so well. “Can’t you do it at my place?”

“You mean your mom’s place?” Y/N decided to keep teasing him. Peter was pretty much a loser, not really having any plans in life other than to lounge in his mom’s basement playing video games and eating twinkies for eternity. He thought he was a loser, Y/N’s parents thought he was a loser (which is why they don’t like him much), even Y/N thought he was a loser when they had first met. 

Yet here she was, smiling like an idiot while babbling on the telephone with said loser. Said loser who always gives her (stolen) gifts. Said loser who comes over at random points in the day just to say he loves her (superspeed is pretty handy). Said loser who named his Dungeons and Dragons character after her (however, he was such a loser, he didn’t have many people to play it with). Said loser who would scoff and pout whenever she would tease him about being her future house husband (well, what else would he be, if he just plays video games and dotes on her all day?) Her favorite loser. 

“Yes,” Peter deadpanned, “My mom’s place. Now may I come over so I can escort you to my mom’s place?”

She pretended to think about it, hearing his soft breathing on the other line as he waited for her to answer, “Fine. No distractions though!” 

“Yes, ma’am,”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, jumping when she heard a harsh knock on her window. Whipping her head towards the source of the noise, she rolled her eyes with a laugh. Peter, waving at her with his usual happy dorky expression. Placing the phone back down onto its receiver, Y/N rushed towards the window, opening it. “Babe!”

“Missed me?” he asked with a smirk, zipping into her room and right past her, making her roll her eyes again. He picked up her notebook, examining the pages, “Ew ew ew. What the hell are you studying again?”

“Psychology,” Y/N sat on the bed, slipping her sneakers on and tying them. 

“Boring,” he sped off in a blur to her desk, grabbing a pencil, and rushing back to her notebook. 

She didn’t even notice, focused on her sneakers, but when she raised her head and saw him drawing on her notebook, her facial expression soured, “Pietro Maximoff!” she snatched the notebook back, flicking his forehead. 

“Hey!” he gasped dramatically, “Ain’t no way you used my real name.”

“You misbehave to the point I have to like a mom,” Y/n replied dryly, going off to her closet to grab her bag. Brows furrowing, she dug around a bit, “Shit… Dunno where my bag went-”

“Ahem,”

Y/N didn’t even have to turn to know what that meant. But she did, and, not to her surprise, Peter was holding her bag with a smirk on his face. 

“Asshole,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew him well. If she attempted to grab the bag, he would just zoom off somewhere else to tease her. 

“Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked with faux innocence, holding it out to her. 

“Fuck that, I know what you’re planning,” Y/N shook her head, raising her brow at him expectantly, “Drop the bag,”

“Um, am I a dog?” He placed a hand to his chest, jaw dropping like the drama king he was. He should have been in theatre when he was in school. 

“Do I have to treat you like one?” Y/N threatened boldly, “Come on, pup, drop the bag,”

Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped the bag, “You did not just say that,” 

“Well, it worked,” Y/N smirked, grabbing her bag and planting a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy,” She began throwing her supplies for her homework into her bag, unaware of the growing dent in his pants. 

“Bitch,” he mumbled to himself, too quiet for her to hear. 

“Alright, I’m ready to go,” she announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He just stood there, eyes glazed over. “Earth to Peter?” she snapped her fingers in his face twice before he blinked, coming back down to society. 

“Okayletsgetoutofhere,” he word vomited, grabbing her waist (with one hand on her neck, of course! Gotta prevent that whiplash!), and within seconds, they were in his room (the basement). 

“Shit, am I ever gonna get used to that?” Y/N laughed, flopping onto his unmade bed in dizziness. Before she could react, Peter dived in on top of her, making her let out a pained, “Oof!” and a “Peter!”

A childish giggle left him, arms going around her waist as he nuzzled into her neck, “Hm?”

“Can’t breathe,”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I apologize, my dainty little princess,” she deadpanned, arms going around him too. Yes, he was crushing her, but she honestly didn’t care, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. She then felt something on her thigh. Felt like something was poking-

Oh.

Oh.

She smirked, but didn’t say anything about what she just realized, casually stroking his hair, “My pretty puppy,”

He gasped, immediately dashing off. Poor thing was flustered, playing one of his (stolen) arcade games, back turned to her. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N immediately got to teasing him, “I thought we were cuddling?”

“Wanna game,” he replied simply, and his ears went red. Cutie pie. 

“You wanna game? But I thought you wanted to spend time with me?” she laughed.

“You said you wanted to do your homework,” 

“True true…” she opened up her notebook, glancing at his squirming figure, “You dancin’, love?”

“No, I’m not dancing,” was all he said. There were plenty of times he didn’t catch onto her teasing, which was always adorable. This seemed to be one of them.

“Then why are you moving like that?” 

“Like what?” Now he was playing dumb. He groaned as he died in the game, restarting it.

She slid off of the bed, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she said, “You’re acting funny, darling,” she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, feeling him tense under her touch.

“N-No, I’m not,”

“Oh, really?” One hand reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before planting a kiss there, “You’ve been acting funny ever since I called you a good boy,” His breath hitched, making her smirk, “I didn’t know calling you that would have such an effect on you, baby. Maybe it’s because you’re so bratty, you don’t hear that often, huh?”

“Stoooop,” he whined, losing in his game again, “You made me lose,” Peter pouted. 

“Hm,” she let her hands drop lower, fiddling with the button of his pants absentmindedly, “You must be slacking, Peter! You should be able to game under any condition, right?”

“But-”

“Nuhuh,” she pressed a finger to his plush lips, “No ‘but’s from you. We gotta practice your concentration skills, my love. They’re lacking,” she unbuttoned his jeans, making him gasp. His hands were gripping the game’s controls tightly, however they were unmoving as she palmed him through his boxers. “Hey,” she roughly squeezed his length, making him squeak cutely. “Did I say you could stop? C’mon, time to practice.” 

“S-Sorry, Y/N,” he stuttered out, hitting restart again. She squeezed his cock through his boxers again, earning a whine from him. 

“Now what do you call me when I play with you?” Y/N asked tauntingly, running a single finger over his clothed length. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“Mommy,” he bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning. 

“That’s right, darling, I’m Mommy,” She stepped away, confusing him, until she got down on the floor, crawling right between him and the game. “Mommy’s going to take care of your pretty cock now, okay?” Her hands trailed towards the belt loops of his jeans as she spoke, “You are not allowed to stop playing your game. Each in-game death is two spanks. You’re not allowed to cum till you clear three levels, understood?”

Peter’s cheeks flared up and he nodded excitedly, “Yes, Mommy,” 

“Good boy,” she purred, pulling down his pants and letting them pool at his ankles. Fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers, she cooed, already noticing a small wet patch, “So excited, huh?” she pulled down his boxers, letting them join his pants on the floor. Y/N stuck out her index finger, letting it run along his cock like before. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-

“-Mommy,” Peter whined, “Stop teasing me, please,”

“Oh? The bratty boy is using his manners?” she cooed, wrapping her fingers around his thick length and slooooowly stroking him, “Remember the rules and everything will feel amazing, yeah?”

He nodded, sucking in a breath, “Y-Yeah,” Peter tried to focus on his game, he really did, trying his best to get his character past the villainous NPCs. But as soon as Y/N began to stroke faster, he whimpered, his character being slain. 

“Oh?” Y/N smirked, pausing her movements and making him whine more, “Already lost? That’s two spanks, darling,”

“Sorry, Mommy…” He mumbled in embarrassment, restarting the game, “I won't do it again- fuck,” She started stroking him again, the delicious feeling going straight to his pretty little head. Any sort of sexual intimacy would immediately make his brain short-circuit, causing him to be complete putty in her hands.

“I know you won’t do it again, Peter, because you’re a good boy, right?” Y/N’s lips curled into a little smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip, continuing to stroke him. “You’re my good boy?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, bottom lip between his teeth as he attempted his game again, his avatar jumping through obstacles and avoiding approaching enemies, “I’m y-your good boy- ughhh,” she wrapped her pretty lips around his tip, teasingly sucking on it. He bit his bottom lip again, hard enough to draw blood. 

Peter couldn’t help it, he took a glance down at Y/N, mouth going dry seeing her sucking on his tip, stroking him in a steady rhythm with her own eyes looking dead at his. His eyes widened seeing her take him deeper into her mouth, eyes not leaving his for even a second.

Game over.

He looked up at the screen of his game, realizing his character died again. Fuck. 

Y/N pulled her mouth off of his dick with a pop, making him whimper, “Two more spanks, darling. That’s four now.”

This was going to suck. This was going to suck in the best way possible. 

“Didn’t you say you were going to be a good boy?” Y/N asked, pouting exageratively, “I remember you saying you were going to be a good boy,”

“I am your good boy!” Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his thigh, “You’re so cute, baby. Now, c’mon, start the game again. You’ll never get to cum at this rate.”

Poor thing panics, starting the game up again. He began spamming the buttons desperately, wanting to clear those three levels so Y/N would allow him to cum. Overstimulation was hot as hell, but edging was terrible (which is why that was her usual punishment for him).  

Her lips were on him again, sucking hard, and poor guy was seeing fucking stars trying to focus on this damn fucking game. He was a good gamer, these levels should be easy to clear, but when Mommy is sucking his cock how is he able to focus on such a thing? He would rather abandon the game and fuck her like a bitch in heat, which is certainly what he felt like at that moment. 

It was torture. Spamming buttons desperately, not beating the level, the threat of edging and spanking in the air. He was going crazy.

“Thats ten spanks now, baby,” Y/N said after another failed level, “I thought you were good at games,”

“I-I am!” He exclaimed, “It's hard to fucking focus when you're sucking the soul out of me!” A pout formed on his pretty lips, brows furrowed as he attempted to play the level again. 

“Watch your tone, Peter,” Y/N glared at him, making him feel emotional. Whenever he was in a vulnerable place like this, it's embarrassingly easy for him to burst into tears. Especially because during any form of intimacy he was baby or darling or something cute, never Peter. Why would she call him by his name? Was he being bad?

“Sorry, Mama,” he mumbled.

Y/N couldn't help but smile softly, being reminded once again how much she adored him. Her pretty boy. Her favorite loser. Being called her titles by him always made her weak at the knees. “I know, baby,” she was a soft domme at heart, she can't be mad at him. Ever. He was her baby and he deserved the whole world. “Let's try this again, okay?”

She waited for him to nod before taking him into her mouth again. His pretty tip was red and hot in her mouth, dribbling pre-cum on her tongue as she swirled the muscle along. 

He finally beat the first level, moving on to the next excitedly. He was getting somewhere now! Soon he'll be allowed to cum and maybe Y/N will let him inside…

Yes, he really wanted to be inside her. 

Y/N began taking him deeper into her mouth, and fuck he felt his tip nudge the back of her throat so perfectly he wanted to cum. So bad. But he won't because he's a good boy and he's not going to cum until he's allowed to. 

That was the plan, at least.

But his name was Quicksilver for a reason and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His left hand was gripping the joystick painfully hard, knuckles white as he moved it around in an attempt to get his character across the map to the next level. 

He finally made it to the third level, sighing in relief. He was getting somewhere. Almost to the end. She was bobbing her head up and down, one hand gently rubbing his tender balls, bringing him closer and closer to release. 

“AhI’msoclosethatfeelssogoodthankyouthankyouI’msoclose” he babbled out, speaking practically a mile a minute. A wide grin appeared on his face once he cleared the third level, “IdiditcanIcomenowpleasecanIcumnow-”

She pulled off of his dick again, making him groan in both desperation and annoyance, “You cleared the level? Good job, sweetie. I guess I can let you cum now…” They both stared at each other, Peter panting and his chest rising with each labored breath, Y/N batting her eyelashes at him meanly, continuing to tease him. He was ready to just start fucking her face and go wild, but he told himself he was going to behave.

So he’s going to behave. 

Ugh, but why does she have to make it so hard? 

“Can you keep going?” he finally asked.

“Should I, though?”

“You… You promised!” he gasped, eyes widening in panic.

“Hmmm, I don’t remember promising anything,” she replied, trailing her finger along his shaft like she always did when she wanted to fucking tease him. Up and down up and down up and down-

“Please?” Was she really going to make him beg? She knew he hated begging, which is probably why she enjoyed making him do that so much. 

All she did was hum, continuing with that aggravating motion of her finger, fucking asshole. 

“Please, Mommy?” he grumbled, hands balling into fists at his sides to keep him from going crazy. Think with your head and not your dick, Peter.

Y/N gave him another mean smirk, “That’s my boy…” she went straight back to sucking him off, and he was back to being a fucking mess. 

“ThatfeelssogoodyoualwaysdosogoodfuckI’mgoingtocumcanIcumpleasepleaseplease-”

She nodded, not stopping her sucking motion for even a second. However, his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t even notice, continuing to beg to cum till she released his dick from her mouth and said, “You can cum, baby,” with a little laugh before going right back to work. 

And within two seconds of being back inside her mouth, he was cumming hard, hands going to her hair for something to keep him grounded. When she pulled away from his cock once again, she swallowed without a second thought, rubbing his thigh soothingly, “You still there, baby?”

“Mhm,” Peter was a known chatterbox, everybody knew this. But every time after cumming, his desire to speak would vanish, the need to just be held and taken care of overpowering all else. 

So Y/N stood up, taking his hand, “Let’s lay down, yeah?” She knew Peter could not last long, however, he could bounce back extremely fast. Just some cuddles will do, and he’ll be back to either a) yapping her ear off, or b) being hard as a rock. Or both. Who knows? 

She laid down on his (unmade) bed, pulling him down beside her, “You need anything, baby?” He simply shrugged, arms going around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder, “Water?” He shook his head. “Snack?” Fast nod. Of course. “Alright,” she went to sit up, but he immediately tightened his grip on her. “Didn’t you want a snack?” she laughed.

He thought for a moment before hesitantly releasing her from his hold, allowing her to get up and go to his practical tower of Hostess treats, grabbing a box of Twinkies. His favorite. Sitting back down, she opened up the box, unwrapping a cakey treat while he leaned against her again. 

“Here you go,” she said softly, letting Peter pluck the dessert from her hand and eat it. It was silent as he ate, her hand going to his hair to gently stroke the silver strands. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled after he finished, looking up at her with a cute smile, “You always know just what I need,” he nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Love you,”

“Love you too, baby,” she kissed his head, sighing peacefully, “So… about that punishment…”

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Fuck 388.

Warning : death mention

Genre : angst

Synopsis : “Thanos is in a relationship with the reader, but during the game they become very distant, the reader votes for X and moves to another group, maybe he even became close friends with Dae-Ho. How do you think Thanos would respond?” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : bold is in English // pt.1 420. - pt.3 Together

Despite your choice, when everyone had voted, you walked back to your boyfriend, ready for him to annoy you for choosing X.

And it didn’t miss.

“I have no problem with you choosing X, we can still play the games together, you’re in my team forever, but why did you choose X ? Huh ?”

“So you’re not totally okay with it.” You pointed out.

“I am !”

“No you’re not, stop lying.” You said in a singsong voice, trying to not show your annoyance.

He sighed.

“You have debts, right ? That’s why you’re here. Does 20 million suffice you ? With another game you could have way more. Debt free and maybe even rich !”

You just hummed, no longer wanting to participate in the conversation.

“What would you do with 45.6 billion ?”

“Get away from you.” You replied without looking at him, searching for 388.

“Ah, don’t say that.” He moved his hand to pat your head but you dodged it. “Stop being so-”

“Being so what ?” You glared at him. “Mad about nearly dying because of someone I trust ?”

He looked at you silently before sighing.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to push you.”

“I know.”

“I never-”

“I know.” You said a bit louder, hoping he’ll get the memo to leave you alone.

He pouted, upset, but didn’t bother you anymore.

Then, a group of circles came in with small boxes of food, asking you to get in line to get your portion.

Thanos was sitting next to you, mixing the yolk of his fried egg with his rice and slices of fish sausages. Namgyu and him were talking back and forth about MG Coin and the money he made them lose until you suddenly stood up and walked away.

“You’re not gonna eat it ?” He asked, taking the small box in his hand to point to your untouched egg. You didn’t reply.

He shrugged, separating the yolk from the white and adding it to his mixture.

On the other side of the room, 388 kept yelling “Ay !” each time 390 hit his arm. You wondered, amused, if they were doing okay, standing a bit to the side, waiting for them to be finished.

That’s when 001 noticed you.

“Can we help you ?” He asked, tilting his head, the group’s focus shifting to you.

“Huh…” You didn’t know what to say, caught off guard, before turning to 388. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life. Thank you so much !”

You were about to bow but 388 rushed to you, stopping you from properly thanking him.

“Ah, no need to bow, really. I just-” The tip of his fingers gently tapped your arm. “I just did what I had to do- Couldn’t stand there and let it happen…” He added with a light chuckle.

You wanted to argue back but 390 spoke before you.

“You saved him ?” He asked, pointing at you.

“Yeah, my boyfriend pushed me right before a red light. I tripped and he caught me. I wouldn’t be here without him.” You said, smiling at 388. “Thank you.”

“Your boyfriend ?” 390 repeated, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yes.” You replied without thinking, before realizing this place could be far from being a safe space.

Everyone stared at you as you smiled awkwardly.

“Are you two gonna be okay ?” 388 asked quietly after a moment of silence.

You looked over your shoulder, eyeing Thanos and Namgyu still talking.

“Yeah.” You frowned, an evident lie. “Everything’s fine.” You gave him two thumbs up. “Totally doesn’t wanna kill him a little bit.”

“He… pushed you ?” 456 slowly asked. “Voluntarily ?”

You nodded.

“Yeah. Well-” You sighed. “He didn’t know that was me.” You flashed them another awkward smile.

Silence.

“And you’re still calling him your boyfriend ?” 001 finally asked. Both curious and slightly impressed. People generally break up after a situation like this.

You nodded, giving him a shrug.

“I’m alive so… Mh.”

390 scoffed, turning around to look at Thanos as he whispered something about today’s youth.

“Can I stay with you, though ?” You asked, fidgeting with your fingers, smiling weakly. “Don’t really wanna hang with him at the moment. And he voted O, so… I know he’s gonna spend the rest of his time here pressuring me into voting O as well.”

001 and 388 looked down at their chests, and that’s when you noticed their blue patches.

“Well, I mean, like…” You cracked your knuckles, chuckling nervously.

“It’s okay.” Said 388. “We’re not gonna force you to vote O.” He laughed, patting your back. “Right ?”

“No.” Smiled 001, scooting to the side to give you a place to sit.

While you presented yourself to the group, thanking them for accepting to take you in, Thanos was scowling, quickly understanding you wanted to spend time away from him.

Though he knew you loved him and stubbornly kept showing him your affection despite everything, there was now a nagging thought that maybe you could get a change of heart because of 388. Just because he happened to save your life after one little mistake.

That asshole was acting like a prince in shining armor.

Then Namgyu pulled him out of his thoughts, wanting to pay MG Coin a courtesy visit. Thanos quickly hummed, gladly accepting anything that’d take his mind off of you and what happened. He stood up, following him.

“That crypto ruined my life too.” 333 replied to Namgyu. “That’s why I’m here, to make money.”

“That’s right.” Thanos said, facing him. “You better make a lot of money. Because of that damn coin I lost over 500 million won, the money I earned from busting my ass rapping.”

“I lost 300 million.” Added Namgyu.

“You better win the games and make loads of money to pay us back.”

“I get it. Can you go away now ? I’m trying to eat-” Myunggi replied frustrated as Namgyu took his food.

“You little shit, eating like a fucking pig.”

“Give it back.”

“No.”

Thanos took the small box from Namgyu’s hands.

“You want to eat this so badly ?” He asked, smiling. “Then Thanos will feed you.”

He grabbed a handful of rice before slapping it on Myunggi’s face as the man yelped, disgusted.

“Good, isn’t it ?” Thanos laughed before Myunggi threw himself on him, the two falling on the floor loudly as they cursed.

You and the group you were with quickly noticed them. You sighed, rubbing your forehead, too tired to want to deal with it. You closed your eyes, maybe if you ignored it, it would go away ?

“It’s good to be young. They still have the energy to do that.” You heard Daeho say.

“He might get really hurt. Someone should stop them.” Jungbae added.

“I know… me ?”

But right as he said that you felt someone stand up next to you. Youngil.

“Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime ?” He asked. “No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners. And two against one ? Aren’t you embarrassed ?”

You listened as Thanos and Youngil spoke for a brief moment. Then you heard people gasp. You looked through your fingers, seeing Youngil holding Thanos by the throat, Namgyu on the floor holding his leg, visibly in pain.

Oh.

Thanos walked back to him after Youngil had released him, only to be punched in the chest and stomach before grabbing his arm and twisting it. You could hear it crack from where you were.

Oh fuck.

Youngil was now above your boyfriend, strangling him and ready to punch him again. You hated Thanos at the moment but you still didn’t want him to actually die.

“Oh my- God- Damn. Youngil !” You called, quickly standing up to rush to them, nearly tripping on your way down. Shit, shit, shit. “Please, excuse him.” You approached them, rubbing your hands in a begging manner as Thanos looked at you as if to tell you to fucking do something.

“I’m sorry.” He said weakly, struggling to speak as he patted the man’s wrist, looking back at him.

“Please, Youngil. He’s not in his right mind.” You pleaded, falling to your knees. You wanted to grab his hand to stop him but feared it would only make things worse.

“Please…” Thanos squeezed his eyes shut. Was it how he’s gonna die ? “Let me go...”

After a few long seconds, Youngil finally released him, slowly standing back up as people applauded him.

You let out a relieved sigh, Thanos coughing as you placed your hands on him to help him sit up.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, rubbing your boyfriend’s back. “It won’t happen again.”

Youngil gave you a look, visibly not understanding why you were with that manchild.

He walked away as you rested your forehead against Thanos’ shoulder.

“Fucking scared me.” You mumbled.

As Thanos recovered, you gently gave the back of his head a slap.

“Don’t do it again.” You said, helping him stand up. “Don’t want your stupid ass to die.”

Thanos said nothing, rubbing his throat as he looked at Youngil sitting back with 456.

Slowly everyone went back to what they were doing, minding their own business.

Namgyu sighed, head resting against the wall as he quietly cursed Youngil.

Thanos was chewing his cheeks, one hand rubbing where he had been punched, thinking.

“Why were you with them ?” He suddenly asked, pointing toward the group you previously were with.

“Because Daeho saved my life. And I didn’t wanna-”

“Daeho ? So you know his name ?”

You looked at him silently before replying.

“I went to thank him and we exchanged names.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s basic decency to know the name of the one you owe your life to, no ?”

He scoffed, leaning back against the wall.

“Are you jealous ?” You asked, looking at him.

“No.”

That was a lie. Your attention was on another person and he was not a fan of it.

“Good, then.” You replied with a nod, noticing your small bento-like box they had given you earlier. “Did you eat my egg yolk ?”

“I asked you but you didn't reply.” He shrugged.

You sighed slowly. Today really was a long and bad day.

Nighttime came and Namgyu climbed to his bed a few minutes before the lights were off. You stood up to do the same, but Thanos stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“Where are you going ?”

“My bed.”

“No you’re not.” He replied, pulling on your arm. You sighed. It’s true you haven’t slept alone in a long time and got used to having him next to you. And it was evident Thanos felt the same. But you were still insanely mad at him. “Come on, I said I was sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”

“I know, you’ve said it a thousand times already.”

“Because it’s true ! How many time will I have to-”

“If I accept to sleep with you will you shut up ?” You cut him off. He smiled, letting go of your wrist with a nod. “Then scoot the fuck away, these bed are small as shit.”

As the lights were off for what seemed a good while, you quietly turned around, facing your boyfriend. You thought he was already out, since he’s usually fast asleep.

He almost made you jump when you heard him whisper.

“Did you tell them I pushed you ?”

“Daeho’s team ? Yeah.”

“Why ?!” He whisper-yelled. “Are you really that mad to send someone after me ?”

“What ?” You said a bit too loudly before lowering your voice again. “Yes I’m that mad but no he didn’t go after you because of me. The topic came up because they wondered why I was thanking Daeho. You got your ass handed to you because of your own damn self. You really know how to piss people off.”

There was silence. You could tell Thanos was scowling.

“Are you gonna sleep now or piss me off ?” You asked.

“Why didn’t you try to stop your friend harder than that ? I could’ve died. It’s fine when I almost meet death but not when it’s you ?”

Enough.

“Fuck you.” You stood up, and walked away before climbing to your bed, ignoring Thanos calling you.

Morning came way too soon, music playing through the speakers as a voice announced the imminent start of the second game.

You all followed each other until you reached a large room, two colored circles on the ground as a voice welcomed you for the game.

“This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes.” Said the voice before repeating itself.

You walked around, searching for people to team up with until you felt hands on your shoulders.

“Babe, you’re gonna team up with us, right ? Team Thanos. ” He asked, making you turn around. He had Namgyu and some other guy with them.

“Are you serious ?” You looked at him, unamused. “No.”

“Ah, come on, stop being so mad at me ! You’re not gonna find 4 people to play with you.”

“Fucking watch me, then.” You replied, walking away. You already knew who you could join. But when you found them, it seemed like you were too late.

There was a young girl with them, anxiously holding her belly. Daeho noticed you quickly.

“Ah, we’re sorry [Name]. I thought- we thought you were gonna team up with your boyfriend.” He said, looking at you with an apologetical face, visibly upset to see you still didn’t have a team.

“Oh. Yeah. Well.” You shrugged, unsure of what to reply. “It’s fine, not gonna fight her over it. I’ll find another team.” You said with a nod, already walking away.

“Good luck !” You heard him say, you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

“You too !”

Now you were beginning to stress. You refused to play with Thanos and the team you could’ve been with had already found their fifth partner.

Thanos eyed you from time to time, wanting to make sure you’d find a team by the end of the 10 minutes.

“So are you accepting us or not ?” Asked 380.

He nodded, making a sign with his hands.

“Of course.”

Slowly, you managed to find yourself a team. Though you found it a little bit funny as you were in the same group as Myunggi.

“I’m sorry for his behavior.” You had told him, lowering your head. “Can’t promise he’ll be off your back.”

He scoffed. Of course, he already knew it.

You watched anxiously as the first two teams got called, and got their feet handcuffed together.

You swallowed thickly, eyeing the timer every ten seconds. They could make it. They could make it. They could make it.

They didn’t make it.

You grimaced as the 10 of them got shot, fearing for your life once more. You rubbed the X on your chest, trying to get some luck out of it and hoping that next time, more people would vote X and you’d go home.

The following teams succeeded together, reassuring you just a bit. This was possible. You sighed, grabbing the person’s arm next to you for a small celebration as he clapped and cheered for the winning teams.

Later came yours and Thanos’ turn, each team going at the start of the circle.

Though you knew it was possible to win, you were anxious. You didn’t know your team members except one, vaguely. You had to trust them and their ability in succeeding each game.

You tried to calm yourself, not wanting to stress about yours and Thanos’ life. He could make it, he seemed confident, or more accurately, not worried about it, not caring about what was at stake. You hoped this mindset would help him.

You focused on remembering how you played gonggi, trying to wake up your muscle memory.

You cracked your wrists and knuckles, focusing, relaxing. No one was here but you and your friends. No one would die.

You squatted down, sighing slowly to exhale all anxiety inducing thoughts.

Swiftly you threw the rocks, no longer breathing, too focused on them to do both.

“Breathe, idiot ! Do you want us to die ?!” Yelled Myunggi, noticing your red face as the five rocks rested on the back of your hand. You were so close, you couldn’t fail now.

“Shut up.” You replied, breathing shakily again.

You threw your hand up, the rocks flying in the air before quickly grabbing them all. You froze, not daring to look up at the masked man who made an O with his arms.

“Success.”

You nearly fell back in shock, your teammates stopping you from doing so by pulling you up to walk to the next game.

You blacked out while the man to your right played spinning top, your mind fuzzing like a static TV screen. It’s on your way down the corridors that you came back to your senses, Thanos talking your ears off about how cool his team was.

“Minsu was so good at gonggi, like-” He said, making whooshing sounds and moving his hand in the air as if he was playing the game right now. “And Namsu’s knee kept hitting mine like a metronome.” He added, laughing, his legs now shaking to imitate Namgyu.

“Huh ?”

“It was so fun, wasn’t it ?”

You didn’t reply. Fun wasn’t really how you had perceived it.

“What game did you play ?”

“Gonggi.”

“Ah !” He exclaimed as he hit your arm “I remember you used to play harder variants than the one we just did, right ? Must’ve been easy peasy.”

“Mh.”

“Are you still mad at me ? Is that why you’re being so dry ?”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

“Yes, I am still mad. But no, I’m dry because I don’t like being held at gunpoint.” You replied, feeling your anger build up again.

“What do I have to do to make you forgive me ?” He whined with a sigh.

“I don’t know !” You began to walk faster to put some distance between you two. “Maybe vote X that’ll help a bit ? Just an idea.”

“No way, I’m not leaving with only 20 million.”

“Then I guess you’re stuck with angry ol’ me.” You heard him groan. “Or we could still break up. You won’t have to worry about my forgiveness.” You added with a wry smile. Tired of constantly having to explain your anger.

He froze, shocked. You wanted to break up ? He panicked for a second, before rushing back to your side.

“What ?! No way ! You’re stuck with me ! My boyfriend !” He said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, scared you would actually act on your words.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away before speeding again.

“Is it because of that guy ?!” He asked, speeding as well.

“Who ?”

“Daeho. Or whatever. You kept mentioning him.”

You turned around to look at him with a confused look.

“I only did when you asked me about him ? What the fuck are you on about ?”

“Because he saved your life !”

“Yeah, because you nearly ended it. Did you forget ?”

He said nothing, scowling, scratching the back of his neck.

“I told you I didn’t mean to.”

“And yet it happened.” You sighed. “I really think we should break up.” You added, walking away. “I’m tired.”

Thanos stared at you, unable to process what you just said. Break up ? With him ?

When you reached the lobby, you didn’t go straight to your bed like Thanos had thought you would, but instead went where 456 and his group were the day before. Waiting for them.

Time passed, leaving you time to think. Were you too harsh ? Should you have forgiven him ? Were you too resentful ? You still loved him but right now all you wanted was to be away from him. Put more space between you two than what the lobby allowed. And at the same time, you were glad he was still in the same room.

You heard the door open, Daeho and his team entering.

You smiled weakly at him, glad he had survived. You wouldn’t have to stay alone in a room full of already made up groups.

He sat next to you, sighing, exhausted.

“What did you play ?” You asked quietly as the others sat down as well.

“Gonggi.” He replied, wiggling his right hand.

“Oh, me too !” You both smiled, giggling together. “I’m glad you made it. I promise I’ll find a way to repay you when we get out of here.”

“Ah, no way.” He patted your back. “Just, sort things out with your boyfriend then maybe we’ll be even.”

“I uh, broke up with him.”

Daeho looked at you with a shocked expression, his smile dropping.

“Are you okay ?”

“Yeah.” You replied with a nervous laugh before looking down. You kinda felt sick.

Daeho rubbed your back, trying to comfort you, as Thanos watched with a sour face.

Fucking prick. Stealing his boyfriend.

He wanted to have a chat with him, but he was in 001’s team. He could definitely beat him up but not 001, but if that man came to die in a game, it’s on sight.

[audliminal]

It's just a game, right? Pt 1

Masterpost

"I just don't see how sitting around is gonna do anything!" Dash argues, face to face with Sam.

"Well, if you have other ideas you're more than welcome to offer them, but we can't just take out the giw. They have more manpower than us, more equipment, and the new agents actually seem to be competent in fights! And we are a bunch of high school students!"

They are all, ostensibly in English Class right now, but even Mr. lancer has forgone the illusion of normal classwork. He assigns books and hands out reading assignments every week, but nobody really cares whether they get turned in or not. The city, after all, has a much bigger problem.

"I don't know! But sitting here-"

"He's not entirely wrong, the longer we wait the more likely they figure it out, just like we all did." As Valerie finishes speaking, the room temperature drops noticeably, and the kids all glance nervously over at Danny who's head hasn't moved from it's spot on his desk. He almost seems dead with how still he is. Beside him Tucker stares at his PDA, the only one who hasn't reacted to the temperature change.

"Should I even ask what you're messing with?" Sam asks, walking over while the others stare nervously at Danny.

"Actually, yeah." Tucker easily shifts so they can both see the webpage displayed on the handmade tech. "I got something through."

"I thought getting stuff through wasn't really the problem?"

"I mean, yeah, they're letting Everything Is Normal posts through, but this wasn't. That. I was, um, kind of fucking around with ciphers and shit? Not saying anything relevant, but just seeing whether they'd flag any old weird shit, you know? And um. I got a video out."

"Okay, but how does that help us?" Valerie asks.

"It helps because if they let a cipher through then means if I encode shit well enough, then it'll also get through."

"But if it's, like, that hard to figure out what it says, then won't it be useless on the outside?"

"The chances of it getting into the hands of someone who could crack it do seem, uh, improbable."

"Not if we stack the deck."

"Wes-"

"No, listen, I know you're all still mad at me, but like. If you can attract a community of codebreakers? Then eventually someone will crack the code on what you need them to!"

"If you have an idea then just fucking say it, Wes," Sam snaps.

"Make an ARG. We can even have like, the base level be completely United to anything real, just make up a story about, i dunno, space travel? And then bury the actual info beneath that. Eventually somebody will crack into the real stuff, and if it's popular enough by then, and the GIW tries to suppress it? That'll be even more suspicious-looking, and just make them dig harder."

"What the fuck is a ARG?" Dash asks, pulling his gaze away from their definitely-just-sleeping classmate.

"Augmented reality game. It's like an unfiction thing. Make a story but the story is interactive and people have to decode shit to figure out what's going on." Tucker glances over to Wes. "And actually not a bad idea. If we all work together, we could probably make something cool."

"You could treat it as a class-wide project." Mr. Lancer says, making everyone jump. "That way I can back you up if anyone starts asking questions."

"Make it about black holes," Danny says, finally pulling himself up from his desk. "We can base it in wormhole theory, and distract the GIW with all the theoretical science."

"What, so like we make videos that seem like they're being sent through a black hole?"

"Fuckin. Sure, why not? As if shit couldn't get any weirder around here."

"Star, please try to refrain from swearing in front of me. I know the situation is - difficult - but I am officially still your teacher."

"Sorry, Lancer."

[kkoga]

Hey, can i request a daniela avanzini x fem!reader where your the popular couple in school nd you get in a fight with someone who was flirting with daniela and after she takes care of you

(A/N : Sorry if it sucks a little, its very rushed and its currently 9 am and i finished hikijg about two hours ago and i wrote this at 1 am even tho i had to be up by like 3 or 4 to go hiking...)

FIGHTS AND THE AFTERMATH daniela avanzini x fem!reader

Warning ! Foul words, physical violence

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portayal of themselves.

Now playing ! ALL MINE by Brent Faiyaz

WC — 1.03K

Synopsis ! After your long-time rival, Mark, decides to ignore your inital warnings about hitting on your girlfriend, you finally decide you've had enough.

You clicked your tongue at the sight of Mark approaching Daniela. Sophia—your friend—confused by the sudden change in mood, followed your gaze. After seeing Mark slowly make his way to your girl, the Filipina sighed in defeat. She knew you weren't gonna let this one slide.

You and Mark have been rivals for the past four years— you two were competitive with everything you both shared.

You and him were the captain of your basketball teams— him being the captain of the boys team and you being the captain of the girls team.

Although you initially didn't hold anything against the boy, he always seemed to have it out for you, which resulted in the dynamic you both had now.

Everything was a competition. The amount of medals under your teams, the total shots you both made the entire season, popularity— everything.

You were fine with it—it was just fun little banter to you—until he started hitting on your girl.

Daniela Avanzini, the captain of the cheerleading team, a member of the school's modern dance team, the golden girl.

She was every boy and girl's dream girlfriend. She was everything anyone could possibly want.

Or at least she was everything you could possibly want.

It all started four months ago, when you and Daniela had gone public. The two of you had been dating for the past year, and finally had the courage to reveal your relationship.

At first, people were skeptical. Just because you were both popular doesn't mean homophobia just disappears. But eventually, it does. And once the homophobic nonsense settled down, you two became the golden couple of GEFFEN high.

Every student knew you two—that you were together—and you loved it.

Someone, however, hated it just as much as you loved it.

Mark, who thought he was finally winning in the “little game” you two were playing, got trampled because you had managed to score Daniela.

The boy took the game more personally than you thought he did, which was why you were shocked to one day find him leaning over your girlfriend's locker, talking to her with a huge smug smile on his face. Daniela, however, had an uninterested look in her eyes.

The first few times it happened, you were only annoyed. After all, you trusted and knew Daniela would never cheat on you. So, you let it go.

But today was the last time you were going to take this disrespect. You already warned him last time— that if he ever tried again, he'd wish he was being sent to the nurse instead of the hospital.

Before Mark even got a word in, you rushed towards him and pushed him away from Daniela.

“Listen man, I told you to stay the fuck away from my girl. What did you not understand?” Mark scoffs, and counters—or at least tries to.

“Oh please, it's not like she actually wants you. Just wait and see. She'll fall for me the moment she just gives me a chanc—” His rambling was stopped by a punch to the jaw. The sheer force of your punch knocked the boy backwards—and before Mark could even hold his jaw to feel it out—another one made its way to his cheek, causing him to fall on his butt.

You crouched down, grabbed his collar, and threw another punch—to the nose this time—and the boy responds by grabbing your collar and throwing you off of him.

You take a second to process the damage he did, but even that was enough for Mark to land a punch. The boy hit you in the cheek, narrowly missing your nose since you managed to dodge it— even by just a little.

The entire fight lasted ten seconds before Daniela pulled you away from him, another student holding Mark back.

A teacher then rushes to the scene, and tells everyone to back off, before sending you to the nurse and sending Mark to the hospital because you apparently had “Broken his nose”.

Daniela sighs before caressing your hand as the nurse grabs an ice pack.

“Alright, I've already gotten you both your passes, you won't be attending the next class.”

“Wait, me too?” Daniela looks at the nurse in confusion, and the nurse lets out a dry laugh.

“Yes, you too young lady. You were involved in the drama after all— you'll be needed at the principal's office after I deem Miss Basketball captain here ready.” Daniela nods as the nurse hands her the ice pack.

“Apply it for as long as you can. I'll be right back.”

The door clicks, indicating the nurse has already left the room. Silence fills the room until you muster up the courage to speak.

“Listen Dani, I'm so sorry to have involved you in—”

“No no cariño, it's okay. Don't sweat it. I understand why you did it okay?” You wince as Daniela presses the ice pack onto your cheek.

“Really?”

“Really. I just…” Daniela says as she tucks a strand of hair behind your hair.

“I just wish you handled it in a better way.”

You leaned forward and kissed Daniela on the forehead.

“I'm sorry. I… I didn't really mean to you know, hurt him. But with how he was treating you like some leverage to win our little banter? I just couldn’t stand it. You know I'm not the jealous type.” Daniela looks at you in disbelief before speaking.

“What? I could not give less of a fuck about that guy. I'm talking about you getting hurt Mi Vida. I don't ever want to see you in this state again, you hear me?”

You nod, which has Daniela smiling in satisfaction before leaning in and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You raise your right hand as you say the words, “Okay. I, Yn Ln, solemnly swear to never get in a fight in front of you ever again.

Daniela giggles as your tactics, and lowers the ice pack. Your girlfriend leans in—cupping your face—and kisses you on the lips.

You both pull away after a few seconds—out of breath—and say the words you would never get tired of saying.

“I love you, Dani.”

“Love you too babe. Always will.”

[thebestsetter]

-> Part 1

-> Pairings: Otoya x reader (romantic) , Karasu x reader (platonic)

-> Synopsis: Otoya regrets being a cheater. But how will he tell you that, when he can't even get near you?

-> A/N: I finally, FINALLY finished this. Locked in, guys. Please, someone congratulate me. I need sleep. Not proofread, sorry.

For the first time in a while, Otoya doesn't know what to do.

He's never been insecure about the choices he makes. Actually, scratch that: he's the most uncaring and reckless guy ever, and he just wants to enjoy life to the fullest without really caring for his actions and what they can bring upon him in the future.

God, how he wishes he wasn't like that.

Because right now, all he wants to do is study for 10 years or something, build a time machine, go back to the past and beat his past self up. Like, hard. Until younger him has a bloody nose and a black eye.

Maybe this little "fight" could make past Otoya think twice before cheating on the first girl he got in a serious relationship with. Maybe he wouldn't be known as a womanizer. Maybe he could've had a chance with you then.

Maybe if he did that, he wouldn't be in Karasu's bedroom right now, scattering his brain for the past 2 hours for a way to make you forgive him.

"Don't you have any prophecies for me this time?" Otoya mindlessly asked, tearing tiny pieces of Karasu's math homeword, crumpling them and throwing them at his friend

"What do ya mean? I'm not an oracle" Karasu answered, just wanting this all to be over with (he couldn't handle Otoya going on about you anymore)

"You might as well be" Otoya sighed, grabbing another piece of paper and crumpling it "You've cursed me before. Can't you bless me this once?"

"Well, the things I say ain't gonna change the past. Nothing's going to. What you can do is fix the future"

"Wow. You're actually like a prophet or something." Otoya rolled his eyes, aiming at the top of his friend's hair "I've never thought about that! Wow! You're incredible, prophet Karasu!" He mocked him, muttering a small "Yes!" when the pieces of paper perfectly landed on Tabito's hair

"Haha. Very funny" Karasu glared at his friend, shaking his head to get rid of the paper. Then, he sighed "No, but seriously. Ya need to fix this. I am not going to be your love guru anymore"

"Love guru? You're not even doing anything to help me!" Otoya scoffed, then sighed as he realized he tore all the homework "And if you're so 'tired of me' like you said, just help me solve this situation! Help me find a way to talk to her, cause I'm seriously going insane!"

"I can see that" Karasu smirked, crossing his arms. Then just as soon as he smirked, he stopped. His serious face making it seem like the smirk was it was never even there "Have you tried talking to her, already?"

"Of course I did!" Otoya rolled his eyes, getting up from Karasu's gaming chair and beggining to pace around the room "But I can't! She doesn't let me" He sighed, finally sitting on the floor, right in front of Tabito "She doesn't let me get into her house. And her parents probably know about what's happening too, cause they won't let me in. When she has to go out, she checks if I'm there, and only when she's sure I'm not does she get out. At school, everytime she sees me, she walks the other way. She doesn't sit next to me in any classes, and the only classes we share together are history and advanced chemistry, which we share with you so you know she doesn't even look my way" he crossed his arms, pouting and looking to the side, as if he was ashamed of what he was about to say "It also doesn't help that I've cheated on or flirted with almost all of her girl friends. So they hate me, and won't let me get close to her cause they say I would 'Hurt her' or something"

"Well, would you?" Karasu arched a brow "Hurt and cheat on her, I mean"

"What?" Otoya looked at him incredously, frown deepening as if Karasu said he hated his mom or something "Of course not! I like her dude. Like, like-like her. A lot more than the other girls I got into a relationship with. She's nicer, prettier, smarter, funnier, more caring, more-"

"Alright, alright, I get it" Karasu smirked again "You're head over heels. Well, loverboy, why don't you try talking to her again tomorrow during chemistry? If it doesn't work out, we can try to find another way, 'right?"

"Sure" Otoya sighed, getting up "I don't think it's gonna work, but it's worth the shot"

"Now, let's go eat something to take your mind out of this for a while. My mom prepared cookies" Karasu also got up, patting Otoya's back and putting his arm around his shoulders

"Sure, all this thinking made me hungry anyways" he then looked at the ground, like he was lost in thought. He then suddenly lifted his head, and Karasu could almost see a light bulb lighting up rjght above it "Hey, you think if I made (Name) cookies, it would be easier for her to forgive me?"

"Bro, shut up"

The advanced chemistry class would start in 5 minutes, and you were nowhere to be found.

Otoya was actually nervous, though he seemed laid-back with his arms behind his head and his feet on the table.

"What if she moved classes just to be further from me?" Otoya asked Karasu, his seat partner, while nervously looking at the door "What if she moved schools?"

"Dude, stop" Karasu rolled his eyes "She's probably just running late. You more than anyone know how she's a little clumsy and likes to sleep in"

"Yeah" Otoya smiled a little "I always thought it was cute when I went to her house and she was still sleeping"

"Don't even start rambling about 'how cute she is' again. I'll actually kill myself if you do"

Just as Karasu said that, the girl Otoya was waiting for entered the classroom, looking distraught and breathing heavily. 'She probably ran all the way here' Eita thought, which made his smile stretch up a little

In a sudden moviment, Otoya removed his feet from the table, not wanting to look like a "delinquent" in front of you. He slid his hands through his hair, smelled his breath, making sure it was at least bearable, and removed some cookie crumbs from his uniform.

Just as he was about to get up and approach you, the teacher entered the classroom, shouting about some activity in page 34.

"Shit" Otoya muttered, putting his head in his hands

"It's okay, man. There's always the end of the class" Karasu patted Eita's shoulder

"Yeah. I guess you're right" Otoya sighed, grabbing his book just as the teacher asked

He couldn't care less for the class, honestly. The 1 hour period looked like it took a century to end. The clock on top of the board looked like it was staring at him, seemingly laughing and slowing tine down.

He moved his knees up and down, axiety radiating off of him in waves.

'What the heck is happening to me?' He asked himself, doodling a girl that strangely lookes like you on the side of the paper. When he realized what he did, he quickly erased it, face heating up 'I've never acted like this! Just what is she doing to me? And how to win her back...'

"Otoya" Karasu snapped him out of his thoughts, pointing to the white board. They sat near the back of the classroom, so Otoya had to squint his eyes to read what was written on the board.

There, in the chemistry teacher's ugly hand writing, he read:

CHEMISTRY PROJECT

1 WEEK TO FINISH IT

60% OF THE GRADE

"So, as I was saying" the teacher started "This is a project about Lavoisier's laws. And before you ask, it is not individual. It's gonna be in duos..."

"We should do it together" Karasu muttered as the whole class began whispering "Unless you wanna do it with her"

"As if she would let me" Otoya muttered back "But I'd like to. I'll try to talk to her"

"...and I choose the duos. No switching partners, either" the teacher ended, and the bastard looked like he was holding back a smirk

A roar of disappointed whispers could be heard from the class, including from Karasu, but Otoya was not sad in the slightest.

This was perfect. If the teacher put you both together, you couldn't complain. You couldn't switch partners. He's just gonna need a bit of luck on his side.

"I'm gonna start saying the duos now" the teacher said, grabbing a paper "Yuko and Hitoka"

He began praying. Begging for you to be his partner.

"Yumeko and Tobio"

'C'mon' he thought 'C'mon, c'mon, c'mon"

His leg was shaking. He was sweating.

"Kyoko and Tanaka"

This was it. You two were gonna be together, and you'd finally realize how he regrets his past actions.

Finally, a little bit of luck on his life. Finally, a little push. He was the world's luckiest man. He was literally the world's...

"(Name) and Karasu"

Unluckiest man.

"Ouch. I'm sorry, dude" Karasu said, with a frown.

"...what are you sorry for?" Otoya answered, snapping out of his daydream "It isn't your fault, don't worry about it. I'll just have to accept it. I'll never get her."

"Don't say that." Karasu's frown got deeper "We're gonna work something out. I promise"

Otoya sighed, and then smiled a little

"Thank you, bro. I don't even know how to pay you back for what you're doing"

"I know" Karasu said, his typical smirk appearing on his face again "A couple hundreds on my bank account would be nice"

"Dude." Otoya deadpanned, but laughed a little

On the other side of the classroom, you were relieved and panicked at the same time

Sure, you were hoping you wouldn't be partnered up with Otoya, so you were relieved. But get partnered up with his best friend? That wasn't really ideal.

Karasu was a good person, had helped you more than once and was a chemistry genius, so you were sure the project would go by smoothly and you'd get a good grade.

Still, you couldn't help but be a little bit nervous. You tried to tell yourself that it was because of the whole grade thing, but you knew it wasn't.

You heart knew. You were scared Otoya would do something. And you were even more afraid, because you knew that, if he did something, you'd most likely forgive him.

And that thought frightened you.

Whatever. You just had to put on your big girl's pants and do it.

It was easier said than done, though, when Karasu walked up to you, wanting your phone number to discuss project stuff, and Otoya trailed behind him, trying hard to talk to you and grab your attention.

It was easier said than done when, the moment you gave Karasu your number, Otoya frowned a little, clearly trying not to seem affected by it, but not enjoying it one bit.

Man this, was gonna be hard.

"Make yourself at home" Karasu said, turning on the lights of his room.

You made it clear you felt comfortable doing the work in his room, since most books and chemistry stuff were already here and you didn't want to be a burden. Still, he insisted on leaving the door open, though, just to make sure, which honestly made you more relieved.

He seemed nicer than Otoya. Taller. A little buffer, too.

So why couldn't you have fallen for him? Why did your heart earn for a cheater?

"Thank you" you answered, trying to shake your thoughts away. You were here to do the chemistry project, not to think about boys.

It was hard maintaining that philosophy when everywhere you looked, you could see photos of him and Otoya. When you saw Otoya's jacket lying around, knowing he was there before. When you saw his stupid plastic shuriken, which she he used to try to impress you one time but ended up throwing it at the old lady who lived in the house right beside your's face.

"Let's start the project, shall we?" Karasu said, smiling nervously. He noticed you were looking at Otoya's things, and he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so he tried to take your mind off of it. The last thing he needed was you thinking that he and Otoya had planned to do something while you were here. You were for sure going to hate Eita even more"

"S-sure" you flinched, hating how you stuttered and how squicky you voice came out "I mean, sure. Let's start"

Safe to say, the project went by just fine. You finished it in no time, and in 2 hours, you were both just sitting on his floor, eating blue cookies his mother made and gossiping about some school girl who apparently hooked up with a teacher.

"Man, you're cool" Karasu smiled at you, and suddenly had an idea. He mentally apologized to both you and Otoya, but this was the only way to help his friend "No wonder Otoya talks about you all of the time"

He then faked a surprised reaction, even covering his mouth with his hand and muttering "Oops"

"He... talks about me?" You repeated, trying to make sense of what he said

"All of the time" Karasu said "He talks about how nice, pretty and funny you are. I honestly can't take it anymore"

An uncomfortable silence settled in the room, and just as he was about to take what he said back, you muttered

"You're not..." you hesitated "You're not lying, are you?"

"What? No, I'm not" He said "He really likes you, you know. He even stopped going out with every girl he sees. He changed. For you"

You doubted it. Your brain told you to doubt his words, to just ignore what he said. He was probably just helping his friend, who wanted to get laid or something. Your brain told you that.

But your heart was foolish. It was dumb. And so, you couldn't help but feel flattered to hear that. You wanted to believe him.

"Excuse me" you said, suddenly getting up "I need to go to the bathroom." You needed to clear your thoughts

"Oh, sure" Karasu answered, pointing at a door that was right beside you "Right there. My room's a suite" you nodded, and began walking away "I'm sorry if I said something wrong"

"You're fine" and with that, you entered the bathroom

Karasu thought that was it. That he completely ruined his friend's chances with you, and you'd both hate him forever.

Keyword: thought. Otoya would never stop surprising him.

That's why, when Otoya entered his room running, Karasu couldn't help but let out a strained yelp

"What are you doing here?" Karasu growled, looking at his friend

"She's not here, right?" Otoya asked, looking around the room "Please tell me she's not here"

You were not dumb. Neither were you deaf. You were listening. Karasu knew you were listening.

"No." Karasu answered "No, she's not"

Now, Otoya's fate rested on his hands. He couldn't screw this up. He needed to talk about you, say what he truly thought.

Honestly, it wasn't really hard. He seemed to love talking about you

"I think I'm giving up, Tabito" Karasu knew Otoya was being serious when he called him by his first name

"Giving up on what, exactly?" Karasu said. He knew what it was, of course. It was you who needed to know it, too.

"On my dream to be a dinosaur nanny" Otoya glared at him "Of course I'm talking about (Name)!"

"But I thought you liked her?" Karasu crossed his arms, getting closer to the bathroom so you could hear the conversation easier

"I do!" Otoya shouted, and Karasu could hear your quiet gasp on the other side of the door, he just hoped Otoya couldn't hear it too "God, I like her so much. I want nothing more than to hold her hand, go on idiotic picnics with her, go skating together, gaze at the stars by her side again" Otoya passed his hand through his hair, frustrated "Do you have any idea how down bad I am? I'm listening nonstop to our shared playlist and all. I just want to at least talk to her, man!"

"And why don't you tell her that?" Karasu said, knocking quietly on the door of the bathroom. He hoped you got the memo

"Because she won't talk to me?" Otoya said in a suspecting voice "Dude, you know that. You're acting strange"

"I don't think you should worry about telling her that anymore" Karasu heard the door unlocking. He smirked, then stepped aside. "I think she already heard it"

"How do you..." Otoya started, but stopped when the door opened and he saw you "Oh."

"...hi" you muttered, averting his gaze

He was sure he was burning up, reder than a tomato, and his brain screamed for him to go dig a hole and bury himself. But he knew he couldn't.

He was gonna fix this. Right now.

"(Name)" he said, looking right at you "We need to talk"

"I'm gonna give you privacity" Karasu said, exiting the room

For a while, you both just stared at each other, uncomfortable. The tension in the room could be sliced with a knife, and you both seemed to forget how to speak.

"I'm sorry" you broke the silence, looking down "I should've given you a chance to explain yourself. It was immature of me and..."

"You're sorry?" Otoya asked, dumbfounded "No, no. You don't get to be sorry. I'm sorry." He said, getting closer "This is my fault. I shouldn't have cheated on other girls. And I couldn't hate myself more for it. You have every right to be mad at me" he hesitantly grabbed your hands, and you let him "But just know I've changed. I've changed because I like you. Really, really like you. You heard me saying it. It hurts me to see you ignoring me. It physically pains me to see you glare at me or walk the other way when you see me. It makes me hate myself. It makes me wish I could just go back in the past and beat past me up" you giggled a little, and he finally smiled softly "But a wise friend once said that we can't change the past. Nothing can. What we can do is fix the future. And, frankly, (Name), when I look into my future" he gently grabbed your chin, making you look at him "the only thing I can clearly see is you in it."

"Eita" You were sure you were tearing up at this point. Chemistry project long forgotten "I like you, too." You smiled, cupping his cheek "I've liked ever since I first saw you. I'll always like you. But I was scared. Scared that you'd break my heart. Scared that you'd hurt me" you sniffled "Everyone said I made a great choice by letting you go. But if it's the right choice, why does it feel so wrong?"

"(Name)" Otoya muttered "I love you"

"I love you too, Eita" you smiled, leaning in

When your lips were about to touch, you leaned back a little

"Promise not to hurt me?"

He looked at your eyes, and this time you knew exactly what he was thinking. His mind was full with his love for you

"Only a fool would hurt a girl like you"

You then closed the distance, ignoring Karasu's cheers and how the kiss tasted like salty tears.

Nothing mattered anymore. Only you two.

This relationship was going to work. Otoya would do everything in his power to make sure of it.

[qrrieterisunnq]

Flour Prank - Jack Hughes

strawberry girl masterlist

JACK!HUGHES X AMARA!JAMES — WARNINGS: nothing just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: Amara pretends that the bowl she uses is stuck on the counter, and she calls Jack to help her. Only for him to end up covered up in flour when he picks it up. — WORD COUNT: 0,8K PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

“Oh my gosh,” Amara giggles as she carefully fills the bowl with flour, scooping it in with way more precision than she usually manages. “He’s so gonna kill me after this.”

She’s already buzzing with energy, her brain practically racing through the logistics—camera angle, flour placement, timing, Jack’s reaction. It’s chaotic, but in her head it all makes sense. Her thoughts jump ahead, imagining the poof of flour, the look on Jack’s face, and the sound of Luke wheezing from the living room.

She peeks around the corner—Jack’s still zoned in on the game, eyes locked on the screen, one leg hanging off the couch like he’s melted into it. Luke is on the other end, flipping through something on his phone, earbuds in one ear.

Perfect.

Amara tiptoes back into the kitchen, snatching her phone from the charger and fumbling with the camera app. “Okay, okay, okay,” she mutters to herself, setting it up behind another bowl. “Angle’s good. Lighting…eh, whatever. This is gold either way.”

She’s still adjusting the placement when she hears someone come up behind her. She jumps, nearly knocking over the bowl. “Luke!”

He raises an eyebrow, finishing a bite of apple. “Why do you look like you’re about to commit a felony?”

“Because I am,” she whispers with a wild grin. “Okay, okay, listen—don’t distract me. I have one shot at this.”

Luke laughs. “That’s exactly what someone says before it all goes wrong.”

Amara waves her hands dramatically. “Focus! I filled this bowl with flour and I’m gonna tell Jack it’s stuck to the counter. When he picks it up—poof. Instant snowstorm. I’m talking flour bomb level chaos.”

Luke stares at her, chewing slowly. “You planned all this?”

She shrugs, bouncing on her toes. “It just came to me like, five minutes ago. I was supposed to be making cookies but then the bowl made this little suction noise and I thought, ‘what if I made it a trap?’ And then flour happened. And now we’re here.”

He laughs. “Classic ADHD spiral, huh?”

She gives him a mock salute. “Hyperfocus activated. Chaos mode: engaged. Are you in or not?”

I’m so in,” Luke says, already invested. “You want me to distract him?”

“Yes. Stall him if you have to. Make him think this is legit.”

Luke shakes his head, still laughing. “Man, he’s never gonna trust you in the kitchen again.”

Amara just grins. “He barely does now.”

Luke heads toward the living room while Amara positions herself near the counter, one hand lightly resting on the edge of the “stuck” bowl and the other ready to play innocent.

“Jack!” Luke calls out. “She says she needs help in the kitchen. Bowl’s stuck or something.”

“What?” Jack yells, not looking away from the screen. “What do you mean stuck?”

“I don’t know, she’s acting like it’s super glued,” Luke says with a snort. “You’re up, man.”

Amara does a quick bounce to shake out the jitters. She can’t help it—her brain’s running a hundred miles a minute and her excitement is hard to contain.

Jack sighs, pausing the game. “You two are exhausting,” he mutters as he walks into the kitchen.

Amara turns toward him, all big eyes and pretend confusion. “Seriously, I don’t know what happened. I think it vacuum-sealed itself or something? I can’t get it to budge.”

Jack eyes the bowl skeptically. “You didn’t glue it, right?”

“Why would I glue it?” she says innocently, barely suppressing her grin.

He steps forward, muttering under his breath. “This better not be another baking experiment gone wrong—”

He lifts the bowl.

POOF.

A full-on flour explosion bursts into the air, coating Jack in a fine white dust from head to toe. It covers his hoodie, his hair, his eyelashes—everything.

Amara’s eyes go wide for half a second before she bursts into laughter. “OH MY GOD. JACK. YOU LOOK LIKE A DUSTED CINNAMON ROLL.”

From the living room, Luke is absolutely howling. “BRO. YOU GOT DOMED.”

Jack doesn’t move. He just blinks slowly, turning his head toward the counter where Amara’s phone is very visibly recording.

“You two planned this.”

Amara is wheezing now, hands on her knees, nearly crying. “I—I can’t breathe. Your face—you looked so betrayed!”

Jack takes one slow step toward her, grabbing a fistful of leftover flour from the counter. “This is war.”

“Jack, no—Jack—JACK!” she squeals, backing away just as he lunges.

Too late. He grabs her, hugging her tightly and smearing flour all over her hair and shirt. She screams, both laughing and trying to escape.

Luke’s doubled over, filming it all. “This is the best day of my life.”

“I’m gonna flour you next,” Jack threatens, lobbing a scoop in Luke’s direction.

Luke dodges and bolts into the kitchen. “Nope, you’re not catching me—Amara started it!”

Amara, still breathless with laughter, wipes flour off her face and yells, “And I regret nothing!”

[witherby]

Omg hi!!! I love your mer!reader series and I was wondering if you take request? If so could you do batfamily headcanons in squid game? (You don't have to of course.) I just finished season 2 and im really excited for season 3.

Love you and keep writing❤️

Hi there! I can sure try!!! I only ever saw season 1 and that was like two years ago but I'll do my best!

( This is operating off the assumption that they are not all in the game together, otherwise they'd all make it out very easily. )

BRUCE WAYNE:

He's killing it. Not literally — moral code and all — but he's crushing this competition. Bruce Wayne's picture is in the dictionary when you look up "Strategist." He got into the games voluntarily and he will get back out alive, no question. He's doing what he can to help other players survive, but he didn't go in as Batman so he doesn't have any of the gear to help as effectively as he could've. He's gotta play it creatively and in a way that doesn't get him or anybody else disqualified for cheating. It doesn't take long for him to find any loop holes in game rules that allow for multiple people to get out of it alive.

Bruce entered the games, not for money, but to find out who is behind them and bring them to justice, so that no other financially disparaged people have to consider putting their lives on the line in order to clear their debts and start fresh.

DICK GRAYSON:

I feel like he didn't end up here on purpose. I really think he either signed up for something and thought it was a silly lil competition, or that the organizers of the game kidnapped the wrong guy and Dick just went with it because he had nothing better to do. Either way, he's here, he's intrigued, and he's gonna save everybody he can while keeping your spirits up.

The jokes never stop. He never stops. Motormouth is what the other contestants end up calling him. Dick makes one of the masked guards snicker once before they get whisked away, and that does make him feel quite a bit bad. Dick's not immediately looking to destroy the system from the inside out (he'll come back and do that after the games are over). Instead, I think his goal would be to convince all the surviving players that they should vote to end the games and go back home. He'd try to be their voice of reason, to convince them that there are better ways to pick themselves up and rebuild their lives than risking death just to get some fast cash. And I think it works.

TIM DRAKE:

Tim is the opposite of Dick. He was not invited to play but he did deliberately steal another contestant's spot to get put into the game. Like Bruce, he's already out-logic'd most of the competitions to create the most amount of survivors, but he also came prepared. The deadliest competitions are suddenly sabotaged not to be as deadly, or not to work at all. Hidden weapons being offered to other players to start a riot and dwindle the numbers have all suddenly been replaced with soft foam bats and nerf guns.

He already knows who's behind the whole thing, he just needed an in so he could tear it all down quickly and cleanly. When Tim is done, he'll be missing for 48 hours at the absolute max, and leaving that place with justice done and a huge, smug smirk on his face. What, like it was hard?

DAMIAN WAYNE:

Damian is tough. I think he caught wind of the whole operation and went undercover as one of those masked game monitors/referees so he could also dismantle it from within, but with less computer hacking and sabotage, and more slashing. I think this method works best as early Damian, who has barely been introduced to his dad for like a week, before he just drops off the face of the planet for a couple days and comes back blood-soaked.

"Hello, father. That suspicious money scheme you had your eyes on? I solved the problem. What do you mean, what am I covered in? Would you believe me if I told you it was ketchup? By the way, your No Killing rule is stupid."

JASON TODD:

Post-resurrection, he's not doing anything with any subtlety. At least Damian took the time to work his way in with a disguise. Red Hood is finding out where the whole shindig is taking place, gathering a crew, kicking doors down, and setting it ablaze. He doesn't have time for games, and the longer he waits to act the more innocent people are dying. He shoots the giant money ball down and lets the players collect it freely, tells them how to leave, and peaces out without looking back. In and out, job done, on to the next one.

[krems-chair]

Something Something Yeah It's Still Solavellan Hours (Mythal is kind of here, too)

I've seen a few very beautifully articulated posts talking about the conflicted responses players are finding themselves having in regards to the decision by writers* to have Solas' atonement route possible because of his conversation with one of the remaining fragments of Mythal.

(*honestly I hesitate to put the weight of bigger game events on their shoulders because of how much I know bigger players in the company were involved, so when you read 'writers' know I just mean whoever had final say on plot)

I love reading where people are at on this, and having now breathed, re-played the scene, cried, read some more theories, and then played the scene again enough times I think I'm now able to figure out where I'm at.

TLDR: in my humble opinion, the conversation Solas has with Mythal doesn't bring him any actual closure at all. It is only the version of the atonement ending that has Lavellan in which he is actually set upon a road to redemption.

This, like everything else where I lose my mind, will be long. I tried to restrain myself and here we are, unhinged as ever.

I was unhappy at first that Mythal's incredibly brief conversation with Solas where she releases him from her service seemed to be what finally allowed him to make a decision based on his wants and not hers. My concern stemmed mostly from the fact that a lot of us are trying to be active participants in a society that recognizes patterns of abuse and seeks to establish channels through which individuals can pursue healing without the approval, consent, or demise of their abuser.

But the more I look at the scene, the more I wonder what would have happened in a world where Veilguard got just a little more time in development. Could we have gotten a scene that more elegantly conveys the theme that we cannot heal every part of our loved ones, much as we might like to?

In an imperfect world it isn't always up to us how someone finds closure, which really sucks when you'd like to ensure a loved one finds it in a way that preserves their dignity and limits exposure to the individuals who have harmed them.

And while it could be left there, I'd like to actually push back on the idea that Mythal is in any way responsible for "healing" Solas in this moment.

I went on a different tirade a few days ago about how at the end of Inquisition, Mythal says words to Solas that on their surface seem well-intentioned or placating, but they actually just serve to further bind him in guilt and a position of servitude. In Veilguard's finale, she still does not take accountability for exactly how much of a role she played in the pain that Solas, a man others have revered and feared as a god, has gone through as he cowers, actually cowers before her.

Mythal's interaction with Solas conveys exactly two things to him as far as I am concerned (I'm going to botch these quotes but my laptop is dying so please accept some paraphrase as I rush to finish this before I go cry about this analysis to my uncaring dog):

"The terrible things we did, we did together." You are forever tied to me.

"I release you from my service." But what am I releasing you to?

Because up until Lavellan joins the fray here, all I take away from the physical and unwilling emotional cues Solas gives in this scene (he is a master in trickery, for goodness' sake, the thought of so many witnesses seeing him unable to hide behind a mask has to leave him feeling anguished on top of everything else) is that Mythal has once again reminded him of everything he did in her name and telling him that all that's left for him is to go back to the fade prison and, as he as always done, endure the crushing weight of his failures alone.

To me, in my interpretation, the Solas that hears this from Mythal with no Lavellan intervention may choose to willingly step down from his original plan (and yeah, that's gonna do some damage) but he is certainly not free of his past. He's going to be reminded of it every time he turns a corner and finds more blight to try and soothe, and even the moments that he rests will be filled with more manifestations of his regret. He says it himself: where he's going? It's terrible.

Enter Lavellan. Yeah, he couldn't bring himself to listen to her at her first plea (but like damn how many times are we going to have to watch her give a heartfelt speech only for him to be like 'something something beautiful elven rejection'). But I know that you know that our clever icon knows better than to take what Solas says at face value. She tells Rook plainly that he's absolute dogshit at lies of the heart, and she says it with her whole chest.

Lavellan sees the way his shoulders slump (in resignation yes, but you can't convince me there's not a little bit of relief there, too), she hears the agony in the "vhenan" that escapes his lips (which, don't even get me started on the fact that it's been like nine years and he has no hesitation at all calling her his heart, it just spills out of him). It is not the sound of a man delighting in the steps he's about to take. They're certainly not steps he does not dislike that lead to a destination he enjoys.

And then she watches Mythal (who I can't imagine she feels any sort of fondness or respect for) pull some weird nonsense on her love one final time, and she knows it's her moment to shine.

Mythal, I would argue, pushes Solas down one more time, shames him into seeking atonement, into once again being alone.

It is the romanced Lavellan that kneels so that he cannot fail to meet her eyes. It is she who invokes their connection, not to remind him of his failures but to reaffirm his greatest strength: their love and their love alone is inevitable. Not the consequences of his past, not the regret he thinks will consume him as he seeks to mend what has been broken. It has only ever been them.

"There is no fate but the love we share". We are forever tied together.

"There is no fate but the love we share." *I* am releasing you from everything else save for this love.

Put colloquially: get absolutely fucking wrecked, Mythal.

Body language comparison to chase up the dialogue one, anyone? The way Solas shrinks before Mythal as opposed to him walking off into the fade with Lavellan at his side and standing tall, and he does not flinch when she lifts a hand to his shoulder?

Ultimately, Mythal is a part of the atonement endings no matter what. But it is only Lavellan that refuses to let him walk alone. It is only Lavellan that guarantees that his dinan'shiral ends not in a prison of regret, but a place of promise.

Mythal bends Solas until he breaks one last time. Lavellan takes each piece, claims it as hers, and uses them to build the beginnings of a future.

[obvithe-bestsoph]

Prompt 85 with pau cubarsi please

No. 85 | "Please come back to bed." PC2

masterlist requests

prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: none.

Today’s match hadn’t gone well. Barcelona lost 1-0 to Real Sociedad. In the last game, in the 2-5 win over Crvena Zvezda, Pau had taken a cleat to the face, scratching himself up real bad. So in the match today, he was wearing the mask for the first time wearing the mask in the match. Training with it had been fine, so he didn’t expect it to be so distracting to wear while playing, it wasn’t enough to impact his performance at all, but he just found it a bit annoying. 

So when he got back to you guy’s shared apartment, he was frustrated from losing the match, overstimulated by the itchiness of the healing scabs on his face and around his hairline, and generally not in the best mood. He would never take it out on you, no matter how angry he is, because that’s not Pau, but the apartment is pretty quiet that night.

You shower separately, respecting his space, although the shower does feel a bit emptier than usual without Pau’s chatter, teasing, tickling and gentle washing of your hair. He’s already in bed, laying on his side, when you re-enter the bedroom, now in your pyjamas. He gives you a small smile and continues scrolling on his phone as you slip in next to him.

After 20-30 minutes of scrolling on your own phone, you reach for the charger and put it on the nightstand.

“I think I’m gonna sleep now, amor. Està bé que apagui la llum (is it okay for me to turn off the light)?” he a small hum to say that that’s alright, and turns his head to give you a goodnight kiss like always. 

“Bona nit, mi nena (goodnight, my girl).” he whispers, pressing his lips against yours briefly. 

“T'estimo. (i love you).” You whisper back. “Jo també t'estimo (i love you too).” He gives you another kiss before rolling over again and turning the lights out for you, but he stays up on his phone.

Having had a long day yourself, you fall asleep fairly quickly, but Pau is awake late into the night.

At 3 AM, you wake up for the toilet, but when you slowly flutter your eyes open, you realise you have a missing boyfriend. Yawning groggily, you head out into the main area of the apartment. Sure enough, there he is, sitting on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Seeing him cry, you wake up fully, rather quickly moving to sit next to him. Pulling him into your side, he removes his face from his hands and instead buries it in your chest/neck.

You just hold him for a minute, stroking his hair, kissing his forehead, and rocking him slightly, until his tears stop. After he finishes his little cry, it’s silent for a moment, before you break it.

“Què passa (what’s wrong)?” you ask in a soft whisper.

“I’m just frustrated. The match was crap, I hate losing, and the scabs are itchy but I can’t scratch them or they’ll just break again. I couldn’t sleep and now I’m frustrated because you’re here comforting me and not warm and in bed getting a good night’s sleep.” he replies, his usual cheery tone a little dulled.

You spend about an hour talking with him, letting him vent, occasionally chiming in with advice or comments until it goes quiet again. “Please come back to bed?” your voice comes out comfortingly quiet and persuasive, and before you know it, you’re back in bed once more, a clingy Pau taking the ‘little spoon’ position, something which you’re rather happy about, as sometimes you like to take a turn cuddling him too.

When you wake up again in the morning, properly this time, there is once again a missing boyfriend. You look around the room for a minute, and just as you’re about to get up to go look for him, the door cracks open. 

In walks Pau, smiling once more, a tray of (your favourite breakfast) in his hands. 

“What’s this?” you laugh, surprised. “Breakfast.” “Well, obviously,” you laugh again, “I mean, why?”

“As a thank you for helping me last night.” he smiles, placing the tray over your lap and getting into bed next to you again. 

“Pau, you’re so funny sometimes. You don’t need to thank me for just listening and being there for you. I’m your girlfriend, that’s my job.” you scold lightly. Pau laughs sheepishly and shrugs, “Well, then, it’s just a nice surprise.”

You roll your eyes and chuckle at his new excuse, kissing him on the forehead in thanks. You donate a piece of toast to the never-endingly hungry teenage boy that is your boyfriend, and eat the rest of your breakfast happily. 

Once you finish, you put the tray down on the floor beside the bed, and snuggle up with Pau once more. He’s now reading a book for his classe d'història (history class), but happily let’s you tuck yourself under one of his strong, muscular arms, laying your head on his broad chest. For a while, you read along with him, but eventually doze off on him once more.

Pau reads for a little longer before putting in his bookmark and placing the book on his nightstand. He just watches you for a while, feeling luckier than ever. He kisses your forehead, and gently whispers against your skin, “T'estimo, meu ànima (i love you, my soul).”

[nariism]

*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR

pair. itadori yuji x reader

synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.

content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman

wc. ~4.4k

NOVEMBER 1 2018

You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.

"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.

Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.

You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.

Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.

The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.

He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.

And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.

Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.

"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."

Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.

"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.

"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."

"You're not evil, Yuji."

"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.

You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.

"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"

"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.

"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"

His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.

You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.

"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."

You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.

You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.

The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.

"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.

His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"

"I can't until you do."

"That's stupid," he tells you.

It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.

A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.

It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.

You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.

There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.

"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.

"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.

You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.

"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.

"Huh? 2 was way better."

"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.

"2 had the best special effects though."

Your body shifts under his blanket.

"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)

His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.

"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.

Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.

"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.

NOVEMBER 2 2018

You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones. 

You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.

Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.

When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.

"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.

He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.

You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.

He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.

You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.

"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"

He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."

You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.

"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"

He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.

"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"

"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."

Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.

"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."

"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"

Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.

"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.

The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.

You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.

Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.

You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.

A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.

To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.

Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.

The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.

Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.

He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.

You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.

"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.

It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.

The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.

It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)

At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.

Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.

His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.

"What?" You ask.

"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.

"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.

He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."

You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.

Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.

An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?

"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.

He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?

"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."

You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.

For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.

(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)

Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.

You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.

If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.

"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.

But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.

Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.

Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.

He kisses you like it's his last day on earth. 

You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.

Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.

He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.

You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.

It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?

Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.

Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.

"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly.  You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."

There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.

"Like I could just... reach out and—"

"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.

When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.

It was nice to have you fawning over me.

You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.

"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.

(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.

So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)

NOVEMBER 3 2018

The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.

His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.

Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.

It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.

"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.

"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."

"I can fight!"

"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."

Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.

"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"

Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.

You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"

Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.

"We will."

You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.

“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”

You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”

She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.

“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”

“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”

You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.

Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.

“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.

You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.

You watch as they pack up their things.

Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.

Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.

"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"

You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?

He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.

A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."

I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.

He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.

When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.

"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."

Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.

But you stop.

"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.

You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[aurashes]

"Buried through exhaustion"

standalone

Liam Mairi x f!reader Words: 1.8K Blurb: a story about exhaustion and burn out and how a sweet boy helps in the sweetest ways. ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. burnout & emotional exhaustion, mentions of loneliness/isolation, mild depressive thoughts, comfort heavy.

A/N: i was initially gonna post this friday but fuck it im so burned out that i'd forget. im drowning in exhaustion, i can't even work on anything anymore because my mind shuts down...

Masterlist ☆ Star's story ☆ Support me ☆ Standalones ☆

Exhaustion crept in — the kind of exhaustion you don’t feel until it’s too late. Until it's burying you.

The sun shone through the curtains, bright and warm. Finally, the days had been warmer and sunnier. I am, by all means, no summer person, nor do I actually enjoy the heat or the bright light of the sun. But these days were different.

I had been so tired—so exhausted to the bone—that the fresh, warm air was welcome. It gave me a chance to work outside instead of being cooped up in the poorly lit room I had been stuck in for weeks. So that's what I had done. I brought my work outside: papers, pens, pencils—everything I needed, sorted neatly on one of the tables. It was the only table still covered in shadows, which I was grateful for, seeing as my skin can barely handle the sun.

It must have been an hour, maybe two or three since I had come outside, and it was well into the evening. The sun still bright and warm and comforting, yet my motivation to continue working had long burned out. It wasn’t that I wanted to enjoy the beautiful weather myself — maybe I did, I wouldn’t know. What I wanted most was to stop working and lay back in my bed, covered in soft sheets and fluffy pillows. Maybe I would sleep. Maybe I would finally let my dam break.

I’d been staring at the same paper for the last hour. A few minutes I would work on it, then I’d grow tired and take a way-too-long break, and after a while, I’d find some kind of energy to work on it again—for a few minutes. Repeating the cycle over and over until the last of my light would fade.

I was just about to pick up my pencil again when I heard his voice.

“Hey, my sweet girl.” Liam’s soft voice cuts through the warm air and the fog in my mind. He takes the seat beside me at the table and quietly tidies the small mess I’d left behind. Pens back in my case, loose papers neatly piled again. Just the way I like it… and he knows that. He knows the peace of mind it gives me when something is clean or organized.

At the age of nineteen, Liam became the softest guy I would ever know. He’s sweet and caring—a sunshine through all kinds of darkness, and a sweet golden retriever boy. I’ve known him my whole life, for as long as I can remember. My days were filled with softness and light, all thanks to him.

I mumble a ‘hi’ to myself but don’t lift my eyes from the paper—the one I’ve been working on and off. He peeks over my shoulder to get a better look.

“You’re still working on those?” he asks with a raised brow.

I give him an exhausted nod. My eyes almost flutter shut.

“I’m about halfway… no, maybe a quarter into all of it,” I mumble, half-asleep. I point to three other piles on the table. “Those also need to be finished, but this is the most urgent,” I explain quickly. He knows all of this already. I’ve vented to him more than once, but it never seems to be enough to get it out of my system.

“And remind me again, when does all of that need to be finished?” he asks gently, like he’s afraid I’ll break under the weight of the question.

“This one needs to be done by Monday. So, in two days,” I reply with a deep sigh. I pick my pen back up to start again.

“The others…” I trail off. “I don’t really know,” I add, defeated.

Working with deadlines had its pressures, but working without deadlines feels impossible. I don’t know which one is most urgent or which one I could leave for last. It’s a mind game—a complete and total mind-fuck at best.

“That’s okay,” he says in that light voice that already lifts a little of the weight from my chest. “One by one, remember?”

Liam recites the gentle reminder he’s given me for years. He moves all the unnecessary stuff out of sight until there’s only one task left on the table.

He shifts a little closer, and his knee bumps softly against mine. “We’ll do this one first. Together,” he says, leaving no room for argument as he takes the pen from me. His presence is a warm reminder that I’m not alone.

About twenty minutes in, my eyes droop closed. Exhaustion takes over, and my body leans closer to Liam’s. His warmth seeps into my skin and he wraps an arm around my shoulders without hesitation. I let out a deep sigh. All this exhaustion and lack of motivation is taking a serious toll on how I feel.

My mind feels like an empty void most of the time. And when it doesn’t, it feels like a loud scream—a chaos I’m usually used to, now pounding so hard it leaves me with headaches almost every day.

Liam must’ve noticed me drifting off. He folds the papers neatly and places the pen back where he took it from.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we, dove?” he says softly, as if not to break the sleepy haze I’m in.

“I’ve got work to finish,” I mumble, barely audible. “I’ll sleep afterwards.”

The words feel like a salty lie on my tongue. I don’t stop him when he gently pulls me up and into him. He grabs my bag with my supplies and slings it over his shoulder before wrapping an arm around me again to keep me steady.

My eyes blink in and out of focus as I try to anchor myself in the warmth Liam gives me. It’s just then that I realize how alone I’ve been feeling. How lonely.

There’s no one I really talk to anymore—not because I don’t want to. If anything, social contact makes me feel less trapped in my own head, in that prison I can’t seem to escape. Most of my friends don’t seem interested in me anymore. Most nights I spend alone, wondering when I’ll wake up with a message from them again.

My eyes droop more at the sudden weight of isolation.

“It’s okay,” Liam whispers as he opens the door to my messy room. “I’m right here.”

He presses a soft kiss to my temple before closing the door behind us.

His hand settles on my lower back as he guides me to bed—still messy from when I left it earlier.

“Just sit down, okay? I’ll clean this quickly.”

I try to object, but my body refuses to move from its place on the bed.

He collects the clothes quickly, folds them, and tidies the scattered trinkets in my room. He brings me a clean change of clothes. I change while Liam smooths out the sheets and straightens the pillows.

Suddenly, the scent of lavender fills the room. I turn to see him placing my lavender spray on the nightstand.

“Just the way you like it,” he says with a soft smile that brightens the entire space.

I can’t help the tiny smile that appears on my face.

“There’s my girl.” His grin widens, and I feel the familiar red heat creep into my cheeks.

He steps to where I’m standing and finds my smaller hands with his. He steps back a few paces, pulling me with him until we’re both on the bed. My head falls against his collarbone, and his arms wrap around my back, holding me tight.

“You should get some sleep,” he whispers into my hair.

I nod but don’t move.

After a moment, he lifts the covers, and I slip underneath them. He follows and wraps the sheets around us despite the lingering warmth in the air. His arms find my waist, pulling me into his chest.

“I feel so tired,” I whisper with a vulnerable voice. “I feel so alone.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he soothes, tightening his embrace. “I see it every day lately. But you’re okay, and you’re strong, and you will get through this. I promise.”

He places a soft kiss on my shoulder.

“And I’ll be here every day to help you through it. Whenever you need me. All you have to do is tell me, pretty girl.”

I can’t find the words. A few tears slip down my cheeks, and he brushes them away with the soft pad of his thumb.

“Get some sleep,” he whispers as he adjusts the pillow under my head. “I’ll be here when you wake. Always.”

For the first time in what feels like weeks, I let my eyes close, comforted by his warmth and scent. I know the next two months will be hard—maybe the hardest I’ve ever faced. I know I’ll struggle. I already am.

But even when my mind is a mess, having Liam here—just one person who stays—helps more than the radio silence I’ve gotten used to.

Maybe that’ll make it just a little more bearable. Knowing someone cares enough to put their own work aside because they see how low I’ve fallen. Because they know how deeply exhausted and done I am.

But for now, I’ll sleep. I’ll wake, and I’ll work again tomorrow. No matter how exhausting it is—because I can’t escape it. But with him by my side, maybe I’ll feel just a little less alone.

♡

[bitethedevil]

When Raphael is standing around infront of Shar's temple, he's reciting a poem about a hunter & huntress, a lion and vultures. I'm curious if you have/have seen any theories on what this poem is about because I always felt like it wasn't about Tav/Durge, I am dying to know.

Raphael's poem: The Huntsman and the Huntress

Here’s the full poem:

”The lion stood watch in the blackest of night...

While vultures encircled, preparing their rite.

The huntsman and huntress, no match for the beast...

Come dawn of new light, did the predators feast.”

I had to rotate this question in my mind a couple of times because I had never put too much thought into it. I had always interpreted it as Raphael once again warning us about how big and scary Yurgir is, but that is not the case! I think you are absolutely right that it’s not about us.

Because I thought ‘hmm, is the lion and vultures Yurgir and the merregons, and are Raphael and us the huntsman and the huntress?”. It would not be unusual for Raphael to refer to himself as a hunter, given he fashions himself in a similar way in his diaries as a fisherman (a force from the outside disturbing the ecosystem, basically). He also tells Tav/Durge that they should not expect that they are the ‘greater hunter’, or something along those lines, when he talks to us.

However, for a game that always corrects pronouns to fit with the pronouns of the character, ‘huntress’ doesn’t make much sense. Tav/Durge could be a he or a they.

Instead, I think I have figured it out:

”The lion (Raphael) stood watch in the blackest of night...

While vultures (Tav/Durge and gang) encircled, preparing their rite.

The huntsman (Yurgir) and huntress (Nessa), no match for the beast (Raphael)...

Come dawn of new light, did the predators feast (Raphael + gang profits).”

Let’s pick this apart a bit further.

Line 1: This first line also further supports why I don’t buy the ‘Raphael is the fox’ from his first introductory poem. Dude refers to himself as cat here once again (R.I.P Raphael, you would have loved fursonas). It checks out. Raphael is the big scary kitty, just as he is in the first poem. He hides it but often hints at it throughout the story.

Line 2: We are the vultures, hungry to get something out of Raphael’s chosen prey, but we are not the main predator. This is because Raphael is full of himself and always presents himself as the biggest and the baddest. Whether we kill Yurgir or not, the ‘lion’ still gets what he wants. We don’t have beef with Yurgir personally, but that doesn’t matter because we are focused on getting something out of his death anyway, to help Astarion. We are finishing off what the lion started.

Line 3: This is peak Raphael. He does not give a flying fuck about killing the displacer beast, but Yurgir does, so Raphael mentions her too. Nessa, as gross as it is, is the only light in Yurgir’s life. It is peak deviling to mention her in the poem. Strip your clients of what they care about, so they are easier to deal with and suffer more.

Line 4: This directly mirrors his little rhyme you get if you accept his deal later ‘the master was slain in his own house, they dined on him both, the cat and the mouse’. It’s him pointing out that you are besties working together. What he is not saying though, is that he could kill you in a heartbeat if he so pleased, because he is the bigger predator.

Basically, it’s Raphael saying ‘hehe I’m gonna get ya’ to Yurgir.

It’s sort of hilarious, because it means that he’s standing there in the bushes muttering a poem that is meant for Yurgir. It’s so theatrical. Like when the villain openly monologues about their revenge and evil scheming 3 meters away from the hero in a play. He’s so silly.

(Thank you for the ask <3 Had to really think about this one)