#and now he's taking the narrative by the throat and saying no. you don't get to define who i am; | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingsonsaturn · 11 months ago

Note

lucy taking care of sick reader!!!

lucy and r aren’t dating yet, but they aren’t just friends either. when r doesn’t come into work one day, and no one (besides grey) has heard from her, lucy goes straight to her house when she goes out on patrol. she stops in throughout the day after finding out that r is like beyond sick.

maybe a little scene where r lays her head in lucy’s lap and lucy run her hands through readers hairrrrrr oh my

lovesick - lucy chen

{ masterlist }

🪐: im still trying to find my writing style, so hopefully this is okay and fits what you wanted!! <3

word count: 982

content warning: sickness (flu like), just fluff

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You woke up with a throbbing head and a clogged up nose. Originally, you thought you could power through it and suck it up long enough to finish a shift, but the moment you stood upright your world became disoriented.

Doing your best to breath through the dizziness, you reached over for your phone to call into work. Grey practically pleaded with you to stay home when you mentioned you would come into work if you needed to, “you have more than enough sick days, use them and keep your ass out of my station.” You just sighed and agreed, saying your goodbyes when he wished you to get better soon.

Without much thought to it you passed back out on your warm comfy bed, hoping sleep would rid you of the constant pain your brain was forcing you to endure.

Lucy checked her watch when she got in, thinking maybe you were just late or had been caught in some early morning traffic. As the time ticked away she decided maybe it would be best to text you, and when she didn't get an answer her thoughts ran around her head like an athlete competing in a race that would determine if they go farther into their season.

She opted to check in on you when she was out on patrol, getting into her squad car and making you her first check up of the day, praying to whatever could hear her that you were there and okay.

Pulling up to your apartment she felt a ping in her chest, she wasn’t sure why she was so worried about you. You guys weren't exactly a couple, but the others would argue that you two were basically already married, you both would laugh it off and call the team crazy, still continuing the narrative that you two were just ‘friends”.

Lucy knew better than that though, she knew you were the first person she called when she was having a rough night and needed a warm bed to share with someone, you were the first she told about good news, you are the only person she truly, and deeply loved with every living and beating part of her body.

She grabbed the key you had given her for the nights she needed someone, after the Rosalind situation you forced her to promise you that no matter the time of night or day she would come over whenever she needed to. Lucy wouldn’t say she now abused the fact she had a key to your place, but it was used more than her own key to her apartment at this point.

“Y/n?” Lucy called out, she heard the faint sound of a groan coming from your bedroom, alerting her of your presents. “Hey, are you oka-” Her words were paused by the sight of you, your skin was shining with sweat and you were cramped in a fetal position. “My love, what happened?” she quickly came over to you touching your forehead, flinching at how warm it felt compared to her skin.

You only groaned and rolled over, “i really don't feel good luce.”

You tried your best to explain all your symptoms, but your scratchy throat only allowed for so much irritation before you were in a coughing fit. Lucy rubbed your back gently, doing her best to coax you through your attack, “Here let’s get you out of this stuffy room, and on the couch, yeah?” she encouraged. You nodded leisurely and threw your arm over her shoulder, allowing her to help you to your living room.

Quickly, Lucy put anything and everything you could possibly need besides the toilet in arms reach. “Before I leave, do you need absolutely anything else, babe?” you only smiled at her with droopy eyelids, “No, but i wish you didn’t need to leave” you pouted at her causing her to smile.

“Call me or text me if you need me, I'll be here in an instant.”

And then she was gone, you continued to pout until her next check up with you during lunch. “Okay, love, i brought you some chicken noodle soup and some cough syrup” she set the soup in front of you with cold water and a pre-measured cap of medicine. “Thank you, love” you croaked out, “You don’t have to thank me” she replied while helping you get in an upright position so you could comfortably eat your food and take the disgusting medicine.

“I'll be back after my shift, and remember to call-” “call you if i need anything, i know, honey.” you finished her sentence, she left you with a quick kiss on your forehead.

After eating and forcing yourself to down the medicine you fell back asleep, you woke up a handful of times with the constant tossing and turning, and being too hot or too cold. You finally decided you had slept enough and reached for the tv remote, aimlessly flipping through channels.

You heard the door click and a smile began to grow on your face, “sorry i'm late! Traffic has been just awful today” Lucy explained, taking her shoes off and sitting her to-go bag on the counter. “It’s okay hon.” you looked at her as she sat down.

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked you, as you laid your head down on her lap looking up at her, “I've certainly been better” you joked.

She reached her soft fingers to rake through your hair, massaging your scalp, aiding the headache that had been attacking your head all day long. “Well i'm here now, darling” she looked down at you, soothingly rubbing your forehead, lulling you to sleep.

She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back at getting you to sleep so quickly, making a mental note that maybe when you get better she’ll finally take you on a long awaited date.

#reader insert #the rookie #lucy chen #lucy chen x reader #lucy chen imagine #lucy chen x fem!reader #wlw #sickfic #lucy chen supremacy

350 notes · View notes

thelonestarinthesky · 5 days ago

Text

⁷. ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ

⁺₊✦₊　

pairing: senku x f!reader

chapter 7 of 2/2- i.senku

cw: implied nudity and sex (no smut yet sadly)

a/n: next chapter will be the last of Senku's memories of reader. like I said on ao3, reader reminds me of the dead wife haunting the narrative, always brought up but not present.

masterlist / playlist

⁺₊✦₊　　

Senku woke up from the best sleep he'd ever had. Was he maybe exaggerating? Probably.

His hand was softly holding onto something soft and warm. He couldn't help but smile from just remembering what happened last night.

Wanting to keep sleeping with the girl in his arms, burying his face back in her hair. He let out a groan when [Name] moved slightly to turn and look up at him, forcing his hand to hold onto her hip instead.

He opens one eye to look down at her, only to blush slightly and close his eyes again.

"....stop looking at me with those eyes." He says muffled, clearly flustered by the way she stared up at him.

"You dazzle me, what can I say?"

She giggles at this, burying her face in his chest. "...now you're embarrassed, but the way you were last night was totally different." [Name] says teasingly. "Was it really Senku doing all those things, or was it a mimic?"

She lets out a squeal as she feels his lips bite down on her shoulder, his fingers tickling her side as she tries to get away from him.

"...you think if Byakuya was here, would he storm into your room without knocking and find us like this?" [Name] asked, sitting up to stretch only to curl back into his arms.

Senku hums quietly. "10 billion percent he would scold us for not using protection." He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Scold you, maybe; he has a soft spot for me." He rolls his eyes when she says this while grinning at him happily, poking his cheek playfully.

"Someone's too proud to admit he's jealous." The girl lets out a laugh as he pushes her hand away before setting down again.

Sighing peacefully, she closes her eyes. "I was thinking of finishing my education at your school." She confesses. "It would be nice if I experienced high school life before becoming an adult."

Senku thinks that ever since she came back and stayed over 3 years ago, she didn't return to school and instead went back to homeschooling due to her illness. "You are taking your medicine, right? I don't want you to go back to the hospital for serious treatment again." He says, scolding her as he pinches her cheek, making her whine in protest.

"You need to get better," he says quietly.

After putting on some clothes, Senku pulled [Name] to his science room, hands intertwined tightly. The room was still filled with many science things, but the one thing that never changed or moved was the telescope in front of the window and the little robot Senku sitting on the frame of the window.

[Name] walked up to it, "You still have this?" She asked, poking it. She couldn't help but wonder why he even kept a clearly poor-built robot she did when she was a kid.

"Obviously, it was the first gift you gave me besides your allowance card." He says plainly as he walks over to a box on his desk.

[Name] was too busy examining the old robot, looking it over as an idea came to her, smiling at it.

Senku stood behind her, holding something in his hands. Clearing his throat, she turns around only to be met with a bouquet of blue roses; she's in awe.

"It's for you." He says, flustered, a blush on his cheeks as [Name] happily accepts the flowers.

"They're so beautiful." She says bashfully, looking down at them, smiling.

His heart skips a beat at this, seeing his girl look so happy to receive anything he gives her.

"Well, of course, it's nothing special. Just roses soaking up blue food coloring dye." He says, talking [Name]'s ear off. The girl just smiled even more at this, watching as he spoke about the science behind it.

Normally, Senku, when he's nervous, would talk and talk, which she found cute. He wasn't a very expressive person, but he could separate his feelings and logic so she could read him easily.

With Senku being too shy, his gaze averted to the side, she took this opportunity. Gently settling down the bouquet of the blue roses on his desk, she quietly goes back over to him and hugs him tightly.

He relaxes as soon as she does so, her face buried in his chest. "Thank you." She says as his arms wrap around her waist.

Leaning up, she gives him a kiss before pulling back as soon as he tries to deepen it. "I wonder how you're not sick of me yet." [Name] teases, giving him a grin before letting a muffled squeal as Senku cuts her off, smashing his lips against hers.

After making out for minutes, he pulls back, panting heavily, grinning down at her. "You can't just tease me like that when you're only wearing my shirt."

[Name] flushes red at this and feels one of his hands sliding down to cup her ass as the kiss deepens once more.

Letting a surprised gasp as she feels Senku gently lead her to the floor, blushing furiously. "Seriously?! In here?" She says, embarrassed. He gives her a wicked grin, making her heart beat rapidly.

"Yeah, in here." He says, leaning in once more.

��⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

[Name] sat beside him, Yuzuriha, and Taiju in front of them. The four were in a cafe; the girls were busy eating their sweets while Taiju was debating on which one to eat, and Senku was scrolling on his phone.

[Name] was set to graduate in a couple of months, plus their anniversary was coming up soon, and he never failed to at least gift her something he'd make with his hands and science.

Like him, she keeps all the gifts he makes for her in her closet, specifically for his gifts. Rich people...

Scrolling on his phone, he looks up upon noticing [Name], holding out a fork with a piece of cake for him. Leaning in and eating it, she smiles before continuing to talk to Yuzuriha, who clearly wants to do the same with Taiju but is too shy to do so.

His brows furrow up in seeing an article, getting [Name]'s attention; she leans on his shoulder to see what he's looking at.

Her expression changes slightly, and he notices. "I'll tell you in private." She mouths to him before kissing his cheek to make sure Yuzuriha and Taiju don't notice her mood change completely.

After studying and chatting, the couple waved at their friends as they went their separate ways.

"Rumors are going around about my position as the heir. I'm sure you remember back at my 15th birthday party, the son of the Nanami Conglomerate." She says sternly, despite being carefree and like any teenager her age. She still had her serious moments when involving her connection to the business world.

"He proposed marriage between us once I turned 18. Saying it would benefit mine and his family, which is true to some degree." Senku sees that distant look in her eyes again and takes her hand, intertwining their fingers softly.

"But that article, it said the [L/n] company is being involved in a highly classified project," she held up her hand that he wasn't holding.

"... someone must have leaked it..."

"I've seen it once when my father took me to where they're working on it." She says. "It's shaped like...."

She thinks for a bit before talking again. "A trefoil knot." Senku raises a brow at this. Such a strange design for this? He wonders why.

"It's really small, maybe like the palm of your hand." She raises his hand so she can replicate what she's talking about. "It's strange, though. Why would my father take place in this project? Normally, he would invest in the next big technology; making sentient robots is what he's trying to do. Why work on something so small?" She ponders before something catches her eye.

Quickly looking to the side, where she saw a flicker of light, she didn't find anything out of the ordinary.

"Anyways, I want you to keep this between us. If it's this serious, I'll tell you once I learn more." She promises. "I do have a good memory, remember?" Teasing him a bit.

He nods, "Let's go home. We have school tomorrow."

The two walk home, playfully arguing between themselves, but Senku can't help but feel like someone is watching them.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

[Name] was acting strange days before the accident, often looking around, almost paranoid but never said anything to him. Clearly, he did not want to worry him.

And that's what he regrets the most in the modern world. If he had tried to at least convince [Name] to stay at his house instead of letting her go to a business meeting with her dad.

The car accident wouldn't have happened, which would have led to [Name] staying in the hospital for days.

Only to receive heart-retching news from Byakuya, who held a box in his hands, breaking the news to Senku.

"[Name] told me to give this to you." He spoke very softly to the white-green-haired boy, who blinked slowly; Senku was getting ready to go see [Name] like he'd done since she'd been admitted to the hospital.

Confused, Senku grabs the box only to flinch when he feels how heavy it is. "What the hell is it?" He says. "No way [Name] carried this heavy thing around."

Opening the box, he peeks inside to find what looks like a minimized-sized doll that shares [Name]'s appearance.

"A doll?" He mumbles even more confused. Only to be speechless when the doll slowly opened its eyes to look up at him.

"Leek." It says proudly, which makes Senku's eye twitch. This thing is one billion percent made by [Name]. He thinks to himself.

Byakuya places a hand on his head, which makes the red-eyed boy look at him confused.

It was February 2nd when [Name] had fallen in a coma.

taglist- @frootloopscos @itsnotsh1v4n1 @lovingyeet @kazuubaby @awwwia @foulbreadpaenut @verysanebsdfan @the-wild-tomato @copycat-namjesus @arimakanav @cchuisme

#thelonestarinthesky #senku x reader #dr stone #dr stone senku #dr stone x reader #ishigami senku #senku #senku x y/n #x reader #drst x reader #2/2 i.senku series

65 notes · View notes

lullabyes22-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Snippet - Damn Me - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Unless it's a punch.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

He unfolds from his stool. With the sunrays angled over him, his silhouette holds a magisterial menace that blights Vi to the marrow.

Blut is gone.

Only the Monster remains.

"I've had time," he says, "to reassess the gameboard. You're not at fault for last night. I am. But for my weakness, none of this would've happened. I'd have dealt with you the way a real monster deals with threats. Fast, fatal, final. Instead I got sidetracked. I let you stay. Instead of shutting your mouth with a fist, I let it run wild, and now it's talking me in circles. Instead of crushing you under my heel, I let you get under my skin, and now you've left scars." A hard breath. "Instead of hating you, I let myself care. And now, like with Vander... I'm paying the price."

Vi’s eyes go wide as plates. Her jaw, a little wider.

"Silco…"

"I wanted you to be part of Zaun, Vi. Part of it, as Vander never could be. I wanted us on the same side. All because I was foolish. Because I craved the farce of family." He shakes his head. "Old habits die hard. The past's a harder bitch to bury."

Vi is trembling. She cannot stop.

"Silco," she tries again. "Don't do this."

"I'm sorry, Pet. Truly." A single blink, and a ruthless seal closes over the softness. "You're a good girl. Strong as Vander. Clever as Lika. But too good, for the path I'm walking. And that path's forward. You? You make me look back. Make me remember things better left buried. And only dead men belong in graves."

Vi rises; her hands seize his shirtfront.

It's not a threat. Only a precarious bid for balance. The room's pitching like the sea.

"Don't," she says. "Don't send me away. If you do, you're a coward. You're running from me. Running from everything. The Eye of Zaun—scared of his own reflection."

Silco smiles. Slow, sad, utterly vacant.

"I've faced many demons, Vi. You have yet to face yours."

"So you're just gonna toss me back? Toss me at 'em?"

"You'll survive. That's your art. Same as mine."

"Art, my ass! I'm not letting you off the hook!" Her fingers knot in his shirtfront. "I'll tell the Council everything. Everything you're planning. Everything I've heard. I'll sing like a fucking canary!"

"I'll count on it." His hands come up, a tender cage for her face. Her heart pounds against its cold bars. "All the tales of debauchery. All the backroom deals. All the trade secrets. Use that brain of yours, Pet. Spin it into a narrative and save your skin. Consider it my gift."

"But—the Four Horsemen! The Shimmer! The harbor!"

"All true. All too late."

"What?"

"The gears are already in motion, Vi. Topside's interests are twined with ours. If the Council dares to turn your intel into a preemptive strike, they'll shoot themselves in the foot. And even then, they'll never believe that one man can orchestrate such a wide-scale overthrow." He tilts his head. "Sunk Cost Fallacy, remember?"

"Try Gambler's Ruin!" Vi erupts. "You're so hell-bent on taking down the Council, you'll destroy Zaun and everything else with it."

"It's the Council who've set us on this road. I'm not destroying. Only course-correcting."

Vi’s trembling worsens. She is a child again, small and frightened. Her family, gone, and her world a burning ruin.

"I won't go!" she cries, hating the wobble in her voice. "I won't leave Jinx!"

"She's beyond your reach."

"You're not beyond hers!" She shakes him hard. "She'll never forgive you! Not a second time!"

"I'd rather have Jinx's hatred than her death."

"Silco." Her voice breaks, a raw ruin. "Please."

"Don't beg, Vi. Vander would never. For you, he was stubborn to the last." The smile dies, and Vi's hope with it. "I'm no better. For Jinx, I've slit throats and sold souls. What's one more, when a man's already damned?"

He leans in, and kisses her forehead. His lips are searingly cold. His body, an armature of bone. Yet the touch is tender. Blut’s touch. He still remembers her, as he does his own vestigial self. But he has only one way of expressing the memory.

Violence.

"Go on, Vi," he breathes. "Damn me."

And Vi is crying.

Crying as hard as the night she'd lost Mom and Dad. As the night she'd lost Vander and her brothers. As the night she'd found Powder—only to lose her to the warped inverse of Jinx.

"You bastard," she chokes, tears streaming hot over his palms. "You fucking bastard."

"I know."

His hands fall. He steps back. They're still toe-to-toe, but a lifetime's distance splits them.

"Love, Vi," he says. "It's the ugliest monster of all. It's bitten me before. But I was a boy then: soft and toothless. This time, I'll cut the wretch out by the throat."

Spots burst behind Vi's eyes. She can't feel her body. Can't process anything beyond the loss. His confession's no better than an epitaph. The end of a bitter, bloody road that's crumbled into a precipice.

And Vi's on the edge of freefall.

"Look out for yourself, Pet," he says, and the smile returns: unearthly cold. "Kiss the Kiramman for me."

And Vi is falling.

Right into the old rage, with nothing left to catch her.

Fists popping, she lunges.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane vi #vi #arcane violet #violet

54 notes · View notes

lightvixxen · 11 months ago

Text

A shy boy with a dom side

SOOO i have no excuse. this may be a little series, we'll see how this does.

Warnings: SMUT its nothing extreme so I don't feel there's any warnings. AFAB reader tho, + dom!spencer!! MDNI

wc:1k-ish

summary: a Friday night taking a turn.

It was a Friday night, and you and Spencer had a few glasses of wine. And Now sat on your couch. You don’t remember how the conversation got to this point.

“Whats…” You stop to think, swirling the glass in your hands before speaking again. “your biggest kink?” Spencer looks at you, then looks off to the side, obviously thinking about the question.

“I’m not sure…bondage most likely,” Spencer tells you, shrugging before taking a sip of his wine. “But choking and, uh, slapping is up there too.” His face was red, and whether it was from the conversation or wine you couldn’t tell.

“Huh, I was expecting you to say something a little more Vanilla honestly,” you say, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table in front of you. “Isn’t the bondage a little cliche though? I mean guy with handcuffs likes using them, the biggest stereotype in the book.”

“Oh, I um.” He clears his throat, “I wasn’t talking about…handcuffs, I was talking about actual rope.” That made you raise your eyebrows.

“So….are you the one being tied up or are you doing the tying.” You ask, your curiosity was officially peaked, you honestly had thought Spencer was going to say something like praise being his biggest kink.

“Well considering I am a dominant, I do the tying up. I much prefer it anyway. It gives me a level of control they no longer have.” He said it so softly you almost missed it. “Anyway, back to you, what's your biggest…fantasy?” He asks, obviously trying to turn the attention away from himself.

“Fantasy? Not kink?” You ask, a little stunned.

“That's what I said.”

“Well, it starts just like this…Though the person varies…” You start, trying to form this specific fantasy into words. Spencer nods along, watching how your face slowly turns red, and how you avoid eye contact.

“And well they get up, maybe circle me for a second while we talk, of course, I’m oblivious to it. They slowly make their way behind me, and wrap their hand around my throat…and hands slowly wander…”

You didn’t even notice he had gotten up. Before you feel the couch dip behind you and his breath on your neck. Spencer's hand slowly wraps around your throat, giving you enough time to stop him.

“Like this?” his voice was low, it caused the hair on your neck to stand. You were almost frozen.

“Do I have your permission to… continue?” You nod slowly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Words sweetheart.” He demands, “I need verbal consent.”

“Yes, you can continue.” You almost gasped when the hand not around your throat connected with your breast. His fingers expertly play with your hardening nipples through your tank top.

“Good girl. Now, what else happens in this little fantasy of yours? Hm?” he asks, the grip he has on your throat expertly tightens, this isn’t the first time he’s done this.

“T-they play with my breasts for a little…while also kissing down my shoulders and- oh my god.” A small moan leaves you, everything you describe Spencer does. His mouth is warm against your neck, unexpectedly he sucks a mark into your neck.

“Keep going.” He tells you.

“And then after a while their hands move down…” Again, he complies, his hand on your breasts moving downwards, messing with the elastic of your shorts. “They usually rub…me through my panties but-” before you could get another word out, Spencer's hand delved into your shorts.

“No panties? Surprising…knew a man was coming over and yet you go commando? Planning to flash me, my dear?”

“N-no I just didn’t feel like it today.” your breath was shaky already.

“Alright…Sorry sweetheart but since you can’t stick to your narrative we’re doing this my way. Okay?” he asks, his hand on your throat grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him.

You nod, luckily this time he didn’t need you to verbalize what you needed. Spencer's hands made direct contact with your clit. His fingers slowly traced circles against it. You gasp, your hips automatically bucking against his hand.

“You this wet already? I’ve barely done anything…” you could hear the smirk in his voice, one of his fingers slowly tracing around your wet hole, before it sinks into you. A sinful squelch sound can be heard.

Spencer sets a fast pace, he quickly finds that spongey spot inside you, and with terrifying precision targets it. He quickly brings you to the edge, your moans grow louder as each second passes.

“Fuck-I’m close Spence-” you moan, grabbing his arm, you have no intention of stopping him, but it just feels too good.

“You got it, cum for me, sweet girl.” He tells you, keeping the pace of his fingers.

“Choke me again please!” you beg, Spencer chuckles but complies, his other hand tightening against your throat once again. With one squeeze you were coming undone.

“Shit, shit I’m cumming.” you moan, your walls clenching around his fingers. Your legs clamp shut around his hand, he smiles behind you. His fingers continue to work against you until you wince in overstimulation.

Your legs relax, spreading to let him retrieve his hand from the apex of your thighs. Spencer brings his hand up to his mouth, licking off his fingers.

“For a germaphobe, you’re quite gross” You pant, head lolling back to look at the man behind you. He chuckles, walking into your kitchen to retrieve a damp cloth.

“And for a profiler, you're not very observant.” He shoots back, walking towards your front, he kneels, gently removing your shorts to clean your thighs.

“Well-” you’re retort was cut short when Spencer licked a stripe up your cunt, swirling his tongue around your already sensitive clit.

“Careful how you talk to me. I have no restraints about fucking you over this couch.” He tells you, blowing against your clit before finally cleaning up your thighs.

“Why not just do it now?” you ask, curious as to why he’s decided to stop here.

“I don’t have any condoms, But I won’t hesitate to take you here and now if you even think a bratty retort.” He tells you simply.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #smut #lightvixxens spencer

273 notes · View notes

idylls-of-the-divine-romance · 1 month ago

Note

The Garden of Gethsemane. (The place where Jesus wept?) Any thoughts? I like the way you explain things.

Hi Anonie <333. I am glad to hear that and glad to discuss this part of the narrative. This... will not be like the other ones I've done. First, because there are 4 accounts instead of 1. Second, because I am in the Agony in the Garden as I write this.

Jesus has just gotten done with an incredibly intimate moment. He has eaten with and attempted to comfort his disciples. John lays on him, listens to his heartbeat. Judas consumed him, despite what's going to happen. They sing the Passover hymns (which are absolutely amazing as a literary whole by the way). He tries to explain to his friends that he's about to die, that a New Exodus is coming and the Firstborn Death will be his own. But they love him (too much and not enough) to understand. They distract themselves by arguing about who will be the greatest. Not knowing that to live a king is to die a slave.

He takes his closest friends, John, Jacob, and Peter, and brings them to a garden. Asks them to stay awake. He's at his most vulnerable so he quotes a psalm. 42-43. A psalm of lament and exile. But they still don't get it. He's the Suffering Servant. The "one from whom men turn their faces."

Right now for me, I'm reveling in the hypostatic union of it. I rebel fiercely against the impassibility of God (the idea that God does not have emotions like ours). My God is omnipassionate. Crying in the garden. Asking. Begging. That the wrath of Babylon- "the cup" in Jeremiah, the Gospel Accounts, and the Revelation are the same - is not forced down his throat. Three times he prays this in Matthew's account. Quoting from his own Sermon on the Mount ("not my desire, but yours be done"). Each time realizing more and more that this is really happening.

"My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will."

"My Father, if this cup cannot pass away unless I drink from it, Your will be done."

And He left them again, and went away and prayed a third time, saying the same thing once more.

But nonetheless, God suffers alone. His disciples, despite their denials, know what is coming and so they sleep off their depression. With no one but himself to comfort him. Sure messengers come from the skies to strengthen him. But to strengthen him to do what? To die. And so he sweats blood, knowing that he must drink Rome and that he will fall.

I have a great disdain for exegesis that tries to eliminate the passion of the Passion, the agony of the Agony. The attempt to eliminate the pain of Our Lord because it is hard to look at. It is shameful. Humiliating. Look at our God. Lamenting. Crying. Begging. But this is him, and we cannot look away. To look away is to shrink back from death. It is apostasy.

But after that agony, he is composed. He knows there is work to do. That "the one who is betraying me" - why is that phrase in present tense? Has he not already done it? - "is near." That this hour "belongs to yall and the powers of darkness". Judas - his brother and his friend - kisses him. Almost brings him to tears. "Are you betraying the Son of Adam with a kiss?"

With that single moment - a moment that would change the course of history - the fires of gehenna begin to break loose against Our Lord. Swords are out on both sides. Peter cuts of the ear of a slave. Jesus rebukes him (and all the other soldiers with swords and all in the future who will ever bear an arm) and heals the slaves ear: "those who find life by the sword, will find death by the sword."

He questions them: "Why are you so scared? Have I ever taken up arms against you? Am I a rebel, that you come at me with swords and clubs? I was with you every day in the House of God, and yet you did not try to arrest me then?" There is a sense of betrayal in these words. Shock. Sadness. Anger. Despite their hatred of Rome, they have given themselves over to the exact same spiritual evil that the empire has.

It on gets worse as all the disciples flee.

And then at his arrest, it is only the women and John his Beloved who are with him.

Because at the end of the day, as it was in the Garden of Eden, so it is the Garden of Gethsemane: our God must suffer. Alone.

And yet.... I suffer with him. Crying with him. Asking our Father not to abandon us. Asking him to save us from Babylon. Asking that his desire be done. Asking our beloved's to care for our mother. God suffers alone, and yet he refuses to do so. And the gospel accounts include his agony and passion so that we might suffer and die alongside him. Pledging our allegiance to the God of Loyal Love and Covenant Faithfulness, who has power over Life and Death.

May the favor of our God and Lord Jesus the Anointed One be with us, so that we might have the strength to not shrink back from death.

28 notes · View notes

sephirthoughts · 3 months ago

Note

Unpopular opinion ask game: 💛

(from this ask game)

💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

Oh there are ever so many. i usually keep my mouth shut because i don't want to yuck anyone's yums or draw aggro from crusaders, but this is an unpopular opinion game sooooo

WARNING: UNFILTERED OPINIONS UNDER THE CUT

The one that i think burns my ass the worst is Cloud/Tifa, mostly because the game and fandom tries so hard to shove it down our throats. In the FF7 games, there is this blatant assumption all through the narrative that "of course the player is into this girl" which instantly makes me rebel against anything in any game, especially when it's heteronormative bullshit.

cyberpunk was the worst, when they tried to force me to like that leatherfaced blow-up-doll panam, who was so egregiously written by misogynist cismales, that i nearly quit the game. the grossly overt assumption the game made that i the (obviously cishet male) player would automatically be into her led to me abandoning her dirt nomad questline and never going back. i checked later, they just stand around in the desert waiting forever if you don't go back.

the problem with tifa is very similar. hetshippers always like to try and carve out a moral highground for their "canon" ship, by acting like it's misogynist not to like the female love interest in a game. i have news for you, babes, i don't have to eat garbage just because it's labeled organic.

a female character designed and written in a lazy, misogynist way is the same. consuming that fictional relationship uncritically is not something i am required to do, nor will i. the women in final fantasy games, for the most part, are badly written, terribly designed artifacts of a time when women were just objects and that was ok to say out loud. they're hardly even trying to hide it, now, but at least they are a little.

my theory on tifa's design is that the otaku devs had never seen a girl irl and when they tried to make one, what they came up with was a pair of massive tits and the personality of a wad of dryer lint. then they gave her some tossed together martial arts to justify why she's following cloud around taking up a party slot, instead of staying at home minding the children and elderly like a good girl.

also the business with her and aerith seeming to get catty and jealous over cloud several times (which they mercifully cut from remake) is such revoltingly juvenile and misogynist writing, it's almost funny. almost.

honestly the whole romance they are pushing between cloud and tifa is revoltingly juvenile and misogynist, since she's a personality-free prize for the male hero, not to mention homophobic, since it primarily seems to function as a beard, so sephiroth and cloud don't seem too gay (MISSION FAILED).

Cloud Strife is a character with whom i deeply connected and fully inhabited, and he is not a heterosexual neurotypical male in any way whatsoever. and yet i'm supposed to like seeing him shoved into the blandest wish-fulfillment, 'winning the titted-up tomboy hometown girl as a prize for being awesome' fantasy that some chuuni would've written in the back of their school notebook when they were 11. please.

examined fully, there's literally no reason for the pair to be romantically interested in one another, outside the pervasive and poisonous heterosumption of boy+girl=love. and i know what people are going to say about them being friends, but she doesn't like him. she never does. she likes the idea of the person she thinks he should be, and persistently tries to force him to become, throughout the series. she thinks the way he is needs to be fixed, because he's wrong somehow. we can still see it happening in advent children.

that's fine though, because he doesn't like her, either. he kind of remembers her from the past. that's all. he does not have the capacity to form that kind of attachment, when they first reconnect, and by the time he could form a meaningful connection with someone (circa advent children), he's already been fully railroaded into the domesticated role everyone has decided he's supposed to be in, and she is reduced to a nagging wife, by the writers. he is very clearly unhappy, and it's not because of sephiroth.

last but not least, is the lack of any kind of romantic tension between them. there is more chemistry between cloud and biggs, than cloud and tifa. hell there's more chemistry between cloud and those alley cats. it's very clearly a manufactured relationship for the sake of gratifying the decreasingly cishetmale player base of yesteryear.

in conclusion, cloud x tifa is the cold oatmeal of ships and i just want to spit it out yack

#ask box #inbox games #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #for funsies #final fantasy vii #ffvii #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #vincent valentine #ff7 rebirth #dirge of cerberus #ff7 remake #aerith gainsborough #opinion #fandom rant

29 notes · View notes

the-morningstar-family · 1 month ago

Note

Poor Felix.

Maybe check if there are counselors in sloth? Or hospice workers? People who are used to working with families where a member is suffering from a fatal illness.

I don't know what the proper term is but these people aren't exactly therapists. They focus on helping people who are dying and their family members.

On another note, or maybe related, Lucifer darling, you do know that racism is a big part of hell's society?

The Goetia treat imps as if they're lesser beings which is more or less encouraged by Satan, everyone thinks they're better than hell hounds and some people even consider them nothing more than pets.

This is something you should already be aware of considering you are, you know, the KING! But it's especially something you need to become aware of when raising one half-Goetia/half-succubus child, one little hell hound and three half-angelic/half-sinner babies, because Alastor is not Lilith so chances are good that the triplets will be considered lesser than Charlie, especially because you and Al aren't married which would, in medieval speech, make them bastards.

Not saying you need to get married, but definitely saying you should get on top of that narrative before any of your small children hear about it.

But as you have a lot on your plate, let ne do you a favor:

Hey Charlie, I gotta talk to you about your siblings.

[insert everything I said before to Lucifer]

[lay back, eat popcorn and enjoy the show]

Charlie: “Dad? Alastor?”

Lucifer: “Yeah honey?”

The princess takes a breath, handing over some papers. A small list of a few people with Bel’s approval. She looks between the two, especially sheepish towards Alastor.

Charlie: “I know you have a lot to do and all that, so I thought… I wanted to help you and I looked at Bereavement counselors. It's not exactly like therapy but maybe something for now- if you want to!! I don't want - I didn't do it because - I hope it's okay -”

Alastor: “Charlie, dear, slow down. Thank you for the suggestions and the work you put into this, we will look it over”

She smiles sweetly, and claps her hands in excitement.

Charlie: “Oh-! I made sure to look for uhhh. You know, those that have worked with all kinds of hellborn and sinners before.”

Lucifer: “Yeah, it's always good to have some experience”

Both Charlie and Alastor give him a strange look.

Charlie: “Dad… uh I know you haven't been to involved for a long time but…. Um the reason I watched out for that is because some might not treat Felix and Nova like everyone else…”

Lucifer: “Why's that?”

An indignant noise leaves the deer's throat.

Alastor: “Darling, Felix is a hellhound. And Nova essentially is what one would've described as mixed during my time”

Lucifer: “What? No! That can't be! I've never made any laws about stuff like that. It's fine”

Alastor stares. Unbelieving. Opening his mouth, and closing it again.

Alastor: “How are you not aware?”

Lucifer: “Huh? I don't… I wouldn't- You don't think I would make laws like that, right?”

Alastor: “I should hope not. And based on the fact that I had to explain quite a few things about the concept, you couldn't intentionally.”

Lucifer: “See then it must not exist!”

The demon massages his temples. While his little girl cringes in sympathy.

Alastor: “Who governors the Hellborns?”

Lucifer: “Well, mostly satan, but my word still goes above his”

Alastor: “And when was the last time you intervened, changed or even looked over a law he has passed?”

The king mumbles, face as red as an empire apple. Even the deer ears can't pick the words up.

Alastor: “What was that?”

Lucifer: “I don't remember, okay!?”

Alastor: “So it stands to reason, that it has been a very long time, since you had any governing power over the Hellborns?”

Lucifer, reluctantly: “Yes… but -”

Alastor: “And. Have you walked amongst the common folk since then?”

Lucifer, mumbling: “Don’t say it like that…”

Alastor: “Well? Have you?”

Lucifer: “Not for long…”

Alastor: “To summarise. You have not passed, nor forbidden laws in an extremely long time and have not overseen the day to day of your subjects either. Yet you claim to know whether or not any type of class- or racism exist?”

The king picks at his palms nervously. Not daring to meet his partner's eyes. He bites his lip as well, and tears gather in his eyes.

Lucifer: ”Is it really that bad?”

The deer looks at him. His initial anger passed with the sight of tears. Ugh. He's going soft. But he has an idea.

Alastor: “I think there is something I should show you.”

Lucifer: “Wh- what is it?”

Alastor: “A business venture that is quite ambitious. Come along”

23 notes · View notes

aihoshiino · 4 months ago

Note

i dont know what akasaka is currently on, but that final chapter will either be fucking awful or somehow save this story

i really hate how many moments in the back half of the manga, some in this chapter included, could have had such a good emotional impact,,,, but nooooo.

i will now mourn aqua, bc for what's it worth,,,, his ending is painfully fitting. truly, he is his mothers son through and through.

I said this previously but I am desperately taking my Ws where I can get them, so having Aqua be the one to concretely parallel Ai in this specific regard after the story spent the last 40something chapters trying to cram forced Ruby = Ai parallels down my throat honestly felt like a stay of execution lol.

LIKE.......... I definitely think Akasaka was trying to recapture that emotional energy and impact of Ai's death and the sheer unfairness of her life being cut so short, but the issue is that Ai manages to get an actually satisfying narrative capstone to her arc vis-a-vis her death. That it happens ON her death bed is tragic but it's nevertheless immensely cathartic and even though I very much still ugly cry an embarrassing amount every I revisit that scene, I come away feeling deeply satisfied. It feels correct for Ai.

For Aqua... idk! I've said it before but I don't think Aqua dying is necessarily an unworkable plot point but the way it's executed just feels bizarre. Not only does the story suddenly have to rush to catch up with itself in terms of convincing the audience that omg no the twins totes had this amazingly close connection all along for reals!!! but it doesn't actually meaningfully engage with or resolve any of the things that are in tension in Aqua's personal arc the way Ai's death does.

It also doesn't help that, like. As I've said before, Aqua is a person who's spent hours ENTIRE existence living in service to others, to the point that multiple characters call him out on being willing to twist himself up and sacrifice himself for everyone else's sake. So having the story end not on the note of AFFIRMING this by framing "being Ruby's babysitter and guard dog" as his divinely ordained reason for existence really clashes with the idea that this is supposed to be a tragedy, because everything surrounding it makes it feel like the narrative is saying "yes, Aqua you ARE correct that your only purpose was to slice yourself to pieces for everyone else's sake and then kys". Insaaaaaneeeee writing decision to make.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #OnK asks

27 notes · View notes

harukamitsuki · 2 months ago

Note

I realized that I don't hate Bakugou, I just think he's a boring character, besides being a complete Gary Stu. I don't understand how the fandom thinks he's the most complex character, like even Tokayami manages to be more interesting than him. Besides, his fandom treats anyone who doesn't like him as if they're committing a mortal sin. What's your opinion?

If his fandom didn't actively undermine everything he did, if they weren't trying to shove him down our throats, I wouldn't hate him as much. And if Horikoshi didn't try to shove him down our throats, I would probably even enjoy him to some extent.

I don't like him as he is now. Or was, considering it's over now. He was abusive as hell, loud and obnoxious, rude to anyone and everyone, didn't change at all, and most of all, the narrative bends around him.

Characters who would hate him somehow adore him. Characters who wouldn't take his shit from anyone else somehow adore him. Physics don't work the same way for him. His quirk has, like, four awakenings. Death literally doesn't stick around for him.

He's not allowed to work for anything - it's given to him, which makes it hilarious when Aizawa, aka Horikoshi's mouthpiece, justifies everything he does with 'he works harder than everyone'. Especially when Izuku is right there, who worked for ten months straight just to get a shot at placing high enough for U.A.

The world bends for him, because Horikoshi didn't want to put in the effort of, ahem... writing a good, compelling character.

And, no, I don't mean good as in morally good. Characters don't have to be good people to be good characters.

However, if the character is both a bad person and badly written, people are far less compelled to enjoy them.

Prime example: Doflamingo from One Piece. He's a bad person, but his writing is so good that people either love him or love to hate him.

Bakugou doesn't even work in the 'meant to be hated' spectrum, as he's not. Horikoshi genuinely wants people to love him, without realising that he makes it hard to do so with his terrible writing.

Look at Shou Tucker from FMA - 2003 and Mangahood. Everyone, and I mean everyone, hates this piece of shit. We would were all happy that Scar filled him, and we wish he was real just so we could disfigure his face. He is hated universally, because that's what he was supposed to be.

Ugh, I'm going off-subject.

Anyway! Back to the ask!

Bakugou is a very boring character. The only reason people think he isn't is because of his 'redemption arc' and his angry personality. Those two things are generally what people point to if you try to tell them that he's boring.

What they don't understand is that the 'redemption arc' doesn't work, because he never even reformed himself, nor did he work for it. It was all handed to him.

His anger is very generic, but it stands out due to everyone in 1-A either being very cheerful, very bland, or emotionally stunted. Not even Endeavour is eternally angry; most of the time, he feels very cold, ironically.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: he would have been more enjoyable if he was left behind post-Battle Trials, as was the original plan. It only changed because Horikoshi drew him crying.

As a minor antagonist, he would have been great. If his redemption happened in the background, I wouldn't have cared. Personally, I probably would have actually liked him if he stayed as an antagonist.

His fandom are so obsessed with making him seem like the best character ever. The irony is that most of them hate Endeavour, despite them being incredibly similar.

I know that it's not all Bakugou fans. There are a lot of them, but there are also a lot of them who just want to keep to themselves and just enjoy their fav without trying to make everyone adore him. To a lot of people, it doesn't matter if you hate or dislike Bakugou.

But, to a lot of them, it does. There are people who spend about 2k on bots to make sure B*kuD*ku wins the polls, or people who spend more to make sure Bakugou wins the popularity contests.

Heck, there are people who were crying over IzuOcha being canon, despite all the hints that it was canon since EPISODE FOUR. I thought it was obvious that IzuOcha were the canon ship when they first met and Izuku was flustered, despite him never getting that flustered over other girls.

But, nope. They're crying and blocking Horikoshi and harassing people over IzuOcha being canon. They claim that B*kuD*ku was canon and Horikoshi queerbaited them, when he really didn't. They convinced themselves that it was canon and blamed everyone else that it didn't happen.

Man, this is why Hiroshima didn't make NaLu canon in Fairy Tail.

Bakugou fans concern me, because they seem to not realise that things not being canon is the reason fandom exists. Fandom exists because people, (specifically white women watching Star Trek), asked themselves, 'what if'.

'What if' these two characters k-k-k-kissed!? 'What if' this character survived? 'What if' this happened?

Bakugou fans just don't seem to understand that.

Honestly, just writing him off as a boring character and nothing more is better for your mental health.

(Just don't tell the Bakugou stans. They'll gut you alive.)

#ask #mha critical #bnha critical #bakugou critical

17 notes · View notes

sungjinhos · 8 months ago

Text

✷ There is a before and after you when the subject is Seokmin.

✷ genre: Angst, Break Up. Non-Linear Narrative. sad and angry

✷ word count: 4716

✷ featuring: Yoon Jeonghan, one (1) Hoshi mention, two (2) Jeon wonwoo mention, two (2) seungcheol mention, three (3) vernon mention

✷ thea’s note: hey y'all i've been m.i.a. because 1 - phd is kicking my ass but i am pretty sure now I can conduct a poli sci experiment, and 2 - i've been having the time of my life writing a book with an actual plot (i cried this week because of it)(i wrote this fic in 4 hours because i've been writing this book for months and i needed to end something). but yeah!! pretty great!!! here is some heartbreaking fic for you!!! Also go listen to Niki - oceans and engenes while reading this ♥

Saturday sunset We're lying on my bed with five hours to go Fingers entwined and so were our minds

[Year one]

Saturdays were your new holy days.

If you started a new religion, Saturdays would be the day that would be saved and cherished. All because Saturdays started and ender in Seokmin’s arms.

It was like a clockwork. After your last Friday class – which happened to be a whole 2hours on Justice and a senior professor babbling about John Rawls when you much preferred Iris Young and her feminist critic, you would walk for thirty minutes in the outskirts of your campus until you reached your boyfriend's tiny apartment. He shared with three other dudes – Mingyu, Minghao, and Vernon. He got the smallest room, yet, in that cubicle was perfect.

“What are you thinking?” His hoarse voice rang in your ears, he drank too much (it was Jeonghan’s birthday, weird it would be if he didn’t drink his weight in alcohol) and was one step away from reaching REM sleep.

“Nothing,” you say, your fingers reaching his hair while his face is tucked on your neck.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Seokmin grumbles, with every breath and every word his lips brush against your neck.

“I just really like Saturdays,” you want to say I like our Saturdays, I like spending all day with you, I hope we could spend all days like we spend our Saturdays.

“Me too,” he says hugging your tightly on his arms, and you hope he is saying he too want to spend all days with you.

Crying, I don't want you to go You wiped away tears But not fears under the still and clear indigo You said: Baby, don't cry, we'll be fine

[Year four]

“Why are you crying?” Seokmin asks with a smile so bright on his face that it hurts on your ribcage.

“Because this sucks,” being away from you sucks, it is what you want to say but the guilty is something that doesn’t go well with your boyfriend.

“Baby,” Seokmin almost laughs, “it is just three hours on a train.” He says, his fingertips brushing away your tears, “We can handle that, just three hours away.”

He says and you want to believe him, but when his voice shakes you just hold him closer, your grip tight on his white shirt and you almost want to crawl under it. Living under his ribcage is the only way possible. To share the same air, is the only way you know how to live.

“You are acting like you don’t believe me,” he says, his arms around you, “should I be worried that my girlfriend is acting like we are on the verge of a breakup?”

Yes is the word that gets stuck in your throat.

“We talked about that, come on, we even got into the masters we wanted, this is the best-case scenario. It is just a four-hour trip we can take turns and all that.”

“Four hours,” you repeat more to you than to him, in a way trying to understand why he is so calm and collected about not spending his hours with you. Four hours. Four hours seems like a whole life away. Four hours you could cross the earth in four hours.

You're the one thing I swear I can't outgrow My mother said the younger me was a pretending prodigy Well, nothing then much has changed

[Year one]

You don’t know how you met Seokmin. Really, the memory is just not there. You don’t know who is the missing link, it must be Jeonghan because Jeonghan knows everyone. You were a humanities girly you don’t know why you are in the company of biology undergraduates and people who want to be doctors.

“So, that’s the plan,” Seokmin says with a bright smile on his face, “I think working in the Intensive Care Unit would be a blast you know, I thought about working with kids but that just breaks my heart.”

“And ICU doesn’t break your heart?” You ask taking a sip of your mocha, you two have been studying in the library for the past four hours you need a sugar pick-up.

“It kinda does,” his smiles falter, “but like, people in the ICU need someone to look after them you know, too much time in that bed, and people who don’t breathe on their own need special care.”

“Well,” you take another sip of your mocha and you almost spit the coffee when you finally notice Seokmin’s big eyes on you, “I think you can do it, you would be great at it.”

“Really?” his sounds so hopeful you want to say to him that yes, you can do everything you set your mind in to, you are that special.

“Yes, I think you would be great,” you will be great at everything, “besides, dealing with kid is fine but dealing with their parents sounds like a nightmare,” you groan.

Seokmin laughs so loud you swear it fills all the empty space in the café, there is no corner where he isn’t. There is no place in your soul he hasn’t touched. You are so doomed, that this crush will kill you.

'Cause while you're wolfing down liquor My soul, it gets sicker But I'm sticking to the screenplay Gotta say I'm okay

[Year six]

You try one more time. Your dial the number again hoping your boyfriend picks up because it is fucking cold outside and because you are afraid he is fucking dead in a ditch somewhere.

After the third ring a voice that is very much not your boyfriend’s pick up.

“Hey,” Jeonghan says and he sounds so fucking guilty you don’t know how to make up your mind.

“Something happened?”

“No?”

“Jeonghan what is going on?”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing happened?” You look around the train station, and it is almost empty.

“I mean your boyfriend is wasted and can’t pick up his phone and this call woke me up and I was having a great night of sleep you know how I am I don’t get enough sleep so nothing beyond that I don’t even know why his phone is so loud-“

“Because he was supposed to pick me up,” you say breathing loudly holding your backpack up and walking towards the nearest exit.

“Pick you up?“

“Yes, it is my week, but I guess he can’t pick me up so if you just stay awake until I arrive it would be great, or hide the keys somewhere I don’t know.”

“Shit,” Jeonghan mumbles and you can hear that he is moving around, “do you want me to wake him up?”

“No,” you say already singling for a taxi. It feels like you just ate a bone that is now sitting in your throat, “no, don’t wake him up, I just don’t have anywhere else to go so-“

“No, of course, I will wait for you don’t worry.”

But answer this, babe

How is it now that somehow you're a strangеr? You were mine just yеsterday

[Year eight]

It is Jeonghan’s birthday.

It is Jeonghan’s birthday and you are in town because there is this global climate event in the same week. It is Jeonghan’s birthday and he knows you are in town because you are one of the panelists and the event shared a post on your Instagram. It is Jeonghan’s birthday and you are entering his birthday party and you can feel your brain almost leak through your ears.

And like fate is against you – because it is, fate hates you – you see Seokmin before you ever see Jeonghan. His eyes meet yours and he almost doubles check, and before he pretends you are a ghost of his past life Jeonghan screams your name and makes you enter the restaurant when you want to just walk through the door.

“You really came,” Jeonghan says, “I was about to crash your event and say fossil fuel is a good thing until they let me talk to you.”

“Yeah,” you say making yourself smile, “that’s why I came I don’t think someone claiming to be a nepo baby with Shell company trust fund in his name would help my career.”

“A man needs to do what he needs to do to make a woman appear,” Jeonghan says wisely.

Jeonghan introduces you to his friends, a few new ones that you have no idea where they met – a weird guy named Hoshi, a tall lanky guy in black who goes by Wonwoo, a broad guy with dimples that is complaining about the restaurant service that is named Seungcheol. A few old ones that you once knew, Vernon still the same you think – sometimes too lost in himself, but always too sweet, Seokmin – not the same you think, Seokmin is the one on this table that you don’t have idea who this person is. Seokmin, you think, is a stranger to you now, after a year or two, you no nothing about him. You don’t know his schedule, you don’t know about the last restaurant he got addicted to, you don’t know what is going on his life.

I prayed the block in my airway dissipates And instead deters your airplane's way But heaven denied Destiny decried Something beautiful died Too soon

[Year Six]

“It is really important to me,” Seokmin says his voice muffled on the phone. You stare at his picture on the screen – his big smile, his eyes scrunched, his hair all over the place.

“So you are not coming this week?”

“Can we skip? I can go in two weeks so you don’t have to come I know how much you hate the train.”

“I don’t hate the train,” you grumble, “is just the hours don’t match up so I have to wait for the last train, and then is not always great to get a taxi at three am when all the taxi drivers might be potential fuckers.”

“I am sorry ok?” Seokmin breathes and you almost bite your own tongue, “why can’t you let it go?”

Because I am still angry, you want to say but you are so fucking tired of those fights, maybe that’s why you are still angry because it is always over the phone, never in person, he never sees the aftermath of it. He never sees you suffering.

“I mean, whatever works for you, really, this week, in two weeks, if you don’t want to come this month it is also great like it is already august maybe we should save it till Christmas, it is not a big deal.”

You leash it out before you hang up on his face.

But I'm letting go I'm giving up the ghost But don't get me wrong I'll always love you

[Year one]

It is your third or fourth time on Seokmin’s bed, under his sheets. There is a layer of sweat between your body but is not like you two care. Your fingers drawn little constellations in his skin, trailing against his spots. One in the middle of his chest, one in his ribs, one in his collar bones. You want to know every single one, you want to create a path – a route. Thinking that maybe, if you remember every single one of them, if you know where to turn, you will always find home. Home, the one on his cheeks, your favorite one.

“You know I love you right?” Seokmin asks his hand on your nape.

Your breath hitches. Stuck on your lungs. Yes, you think. And I love you just as much, I love you so much that the mere idea of not loving you seems unfathomable, I love you so much that I forgot who I was before loving you. But kissing him is easier, and when his lips are on yours you pray for all the gods to make him understand every unspoken word.

That's why I wrote you this very last song I guess this is where we say goodbye I know I'll be alright Someday I'll be fine But just not tonight (oh)

[Year two]

“You know you are my favorite person in the world, right?” You ask your boyfriend who just gives you a bright smile.

He is sitting by your side in the living room of his shared apartment, it is February and it is the middle of the semester, and yet, Seokmin proudly told you that he got his greatest gift ever – a weekend without his roommates and a week off dishes duty. There is a cake – small, strawberry, with candles on it, on the table and you two are waiting for the clock to hit twelve o’clock so you two can celebrate his birth.

“No,” he says, a pout on his face, “I really have no idea, you don’t tell me enough.”

“That’s not the truth,” you grumble, and you think it might be the truth because you are not really good with words but you are sure that your boyfriend is just overreacting.

“Come on, tell me.” He says while he kisses your cheeks, “it is my birthday you can’t tell me no.”

“It is not your birthday yet.”

“Come on,” he pouts again, “please? As a birthday gift.”

“I already brought your gift and it is better than this.”

“Nothing is better than hearing you saying I am your favorite person ever,” he says his hands on your waist, his leg flushed on your back when he sits facing the side of your face.

He sounds so earnest that you give him what he wants, just because it is his birthday, just because it is a special day. “I love you, you are the most special person ever, every day I thank your mother before I go to bed because she put the most special guy in the world and even though it is your birthday I am the one that received the most special gift that is sharing my life with you, and every day is a bless with you baby,” you say watching his smile grows bigger, “happy?”

“The happiest,” he tells you.

“Come on, we need to light the candles,” you say watching the clock hit.

Plunging into all kinds of diversions Like blush wine and sonorous soirées But even with gin and surgin' adrenaline I see you're all that can intoxicate

[Year seven]

“It is weird, isn’t it?” Seokmin’s voice rings in your ears while you look through the window of the restaurant, watching the car dance on the street under the moonlight.

“What?” You ask and it sounds inaudible even to your own ears, your voice small like you are hoping he is not talking to you.

“Us,” Seokmin says like he still believes in this world there is an us, “in the same place like this, is weird, I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“Hm”, you hum trying to say something and not being incredibly bitchy about everything because you are the one that doesn’t belong, Seokmin is always here, you are the one who isn’t. Jeonghan is more his friend than yours, “I think it is bound to be weird, I think it would be worse if we acted like nothing happened.”

“Right,” he says taking one more sip of his beer.

You almost laugh. Maybe you still know Seokmin because when his eyes lock in yours again you know that you said the very same thing he didn’t want to hear.

It feels like you are polar opposites.

Oceans and engines You're skilled at infringin' on great love affairs 'Cause now my heart's home All I've known is long gone and ten thousand miles away And I'm not okay

[Year six]

When your phone rings for the third time Seokmin’s photo lights up the whole room. Your tears feel cold against your face. And you take another sip of your cheap and all not that great wine. It has been three days since you spoke with Seokmin, but it is the first day that you can cry and break down and suffer.

It was a dick fucking move. He broke up with you over a phone call. Dick move. Worse, he broke up with you over a phone call in the worst week ever – finals week. You had three articles due – one on authoritarian governments, one on gender studies and political participation of women, and one on fossil fuel and climate policies. You had already brought a train ticket. You have already chosen a restaurant to celebrate surviving the first year of going long distance.

You gulp down another sip of your wine, maybe you should drink from the bottle.

You told him that going long distance was insane. You told him it would never work out. It was a three hours train ride he said. You two could make it work he said, you two could conquer all he said. And he broke up with you over a phone call – not even a video call, a phone call like people did in the 90s. A phone call to tell you that it was too hard, that it was too complicated, that he was tired and you too were fighting too much.

A phone call to tell you that maybe this isn’t working.

But I'm letting go I'm giving up the ghost But don't get me wrong I'll always love you that's why I wrote you this very last song I guess this is where we say goodbye I know I'll be alright But just not

[Year seven]

You are explaining Wonwoo – a soon-to-be cardiologist, and Vernon – still unsure about his future but maybe psychiatry, what a carbon footprint is. And how capitalism will lead the earth to its collapse. Small talk. Seungcheol don’t really knows how the world will work if capitalism is dethroned as the only one system in the world that even worked – according to himself. Everything is ok. Is not at all great because you can physically feel Seokmin’s eyes on you, until he gets up the table and acts like he is not interrupting the table’s conversation;

“Hey, can we talk?”

You look around waiting for someone say sure and get up the table until every eye is on you. No, we can’t fucking talk, you want to bite. No, I don’t ever want to talk to you, I actually prefer smack my head against every surface on this place before talking to you, you want to say. But instead, you just say “Sure.”

You follow Seokmin’s steps until the two of you cross the streets and sit in a bench. He sits staring at the sea, his shoes on the sand and you ask yourself if you want to get your shoes full of sand or ruin them. The answer is no. But facing the opposite way – the streets, the restaurant, facing Jeonghan sitting in the restaurant with his neck strained to watch your every move is not an option. So you take your shoes off before sitting on his side.

“What are we doing?” Seokmin asks when you finally sit. He is still looking forward, and you don’t know if it is the moon, if it is longing, if it still the love buried under your chest, but he still looks good. His nose still big and straight, his lips still full, his eyes so clear.

“I don’t know,” you tell him.

“No, really what we are doing?” He asks you finally looking at you and it hits you like a truck.

“I really don’t know Seokmin,” You tell him, “I don’t have a fucking clue, for the past year or so I don’t know what I am doing with my own life, let alone what I am doing right now, talking with my fucking ex on a fucking beach in a city we have never been on,” you say and you know you sound bitter but with the years you learned it was always better to tell him everything than to bite down your tongue.

“That bad hun?” He says taking a sip of his bear.

“The worst,” you look at him again, his eyes on the sea.

“It hadn’t been great either,” he says blinking slowly, his eyes still bright as the moon, “I mean, on my side, it hadn’t been great either.”

“I am sorry,” it is your time to look at the sea – so vast, so big, so dark, “I am really sorry, but half of it might be my prayers to the gods.”

You hear Seokmin chuckle, it is bitter and you hate it. You miss him so much that you will pray for the gods again – to erase him from your mind, to make your heart go back to its normal state and size, to make you go to yourself before Seokmin has laid his finger on you.

“Well,” Seokmin offers you his beer, “I can’t say I wasn’t angry either, we are a piece of work, aren’t we?”

We, it rings on your ears, we, us, does these pronouns even make sense to be used when the subject is Seokmin and you? In your vain hope, you say it doesn’t you say it can’t be used. You want to make a new grammar rule. You want to create an exception. When, Seokmin and you, are in the picture the pronouns we and us cannot be used, and if you are being bitter mine and my as well as ours are forbidden.

But you are afraid that will always be something you used to share in this life.

“What the fuck are we doing right now Seokmin?” Is your time to ask.

“I don’t have a fucking idea,” he says, “I just hate how things end up with us I guess, I really thought we were it you know,” his feet press on the sand making the tip of his shoes go under it, “I really thought we would make it through everything, and I hate myself that we didn’t, and this past year has been hell.” He chuckles the bitter sound again, how can a laugh be so fucking humorless?

“It was me,” he looks at you face all serious, stern, all hard angles and pointy shapes, “it was me who saw that you would be in town, I have been keeping tabs, fuck I even call your mom every week and I’m pretty sure she pitties me which is fucking insane because she could just tell me not to call but she tells me what is going on, she sent me pics of your brother’s kid and I know he would be pissed at that because I know he hates my guts,” when you feel the tears drip down your chest you know it is too late.

Tonight was the first time I stared into seas of beguiling sepia two years ago And the first time I learned real world superpowers lived in three words, they revitalize my fraying bones Now what do you do when your pillar crumbled down You've lost all solid ground Both dreams and demons drowned

[Year three]

“We can pick the same schools,” Seokmin says while doing the only thing you hate – chewing his food way too loudly.

“Right, because our dream programs happen to be in the same university,” you say picking up a new slice of your side of the pizza – chicken, he hates it. Seokmin’s half is pepperoni, which you always steal a slice because you love pepperoni, and you love chicken, you love all types of pizza that don’t include fruit.

“I mean,” he puts down his slice when he opens his mouth to have another bite when you give him the most furious look ever. “Sorry,” he says his voice small, “We can try all the universities in the region? Of course, we have our dream picks, and okay we don’t really need to give up on that if we get in, but we can try more options just to be sure and try to get into programs in the same regions?”

“What if we get into our number one pick and we are like ten hours away?” You ask breathing deeply. It hurts just to think about it. It feels like the ceiling is too low and it is crushing your spine.

“A lot of phone calls,” Seokmin says, mouth fool of pizza again, “I think we can ask Jeonghan a loan or two. He can be our Shark, his interest rates might include a lung or a kidney, he may ask for a brain to train for his surgeries, but I mean it will be worth it.”

And this void's all you've found And doubts light it aglow I have so many questions But I'm pouring them into the ocean And I'm starting up my engine

[Year one]

The first time Seokmin kissed you was in Jeonghan’s kitchen.

You think the sink is full, and there are more cups on the kitchen table than people in his house, but nothing really matters when Seokmin’s lips find yours and you can feel his lips stretching out on a smile.

“Can we get the hell out of here?” Seokmin asks, his body pressing yours against a wall, his hand on your waist and neck and why you want to ask him, why you want to leave? Right here is perfect there is no other place I rather be.

“We can go to my place,” he says, his lips kissing the skin where your neck and shoulder met, “I mean all the boys are right here so we can have the apartment to ourselves.”

“Right now?” You ask but really what you want to say is Right now? Move? Getting out of your embrace? Stopping this?

“Yeah, it is like three blocks away,” Seokmin chuckles and you ask yourself if you said all that out loud.

“Okay,” you say, your hand getting under the collar of his shirt and touching his back – your hand trying to touch more of his skin, maybe if you spread your fingers you can touch more of his.

And I'm letting go I'm givin' up your ghost It's come to a close I marked the end with this last song I wrote I'm letting go This is the last falsetto I'll ever sing to you My great lost love

[Year seven]

You know it is a mistake.

And you know you would do this mistake over and over again when you smell his sheets. He still uses the same fabric softener. He still uses the same cologne. He still is the Seokmin that you used to know, the Seokmin you once loved. He is still the same.

The problem is that you don’t know if you are.

You don’t know if you are the same person that he once loved.

“What are you thinking?” He asks in your ear, low. You love his voice, still the same. His thumb traces over your lips.

You trace his mole with your finger – heart, ribcage, collarbones. Home. How can home be so far away? How can be home a place you cannot return?

“What is going on in your mind?” He asks again, his legs interwind with yours, his hand splayed on your back.

That we fucked up, you want to say, that we shouldn’t have done this, is the other option, that I will cry all over again, that I will ache in all the places that I thought I’ve healed, that I will miss you all the same, that I am back on square one. That I don’t know if I can ever love someone like I loved you, like I still love you, like I will love you. That I will carry this love till I die because you were once a part of my life and it will always have a before and after you in my life. That now I am thinking about taking you to meet my niece, I want to see her grow on your side, I want you in my life and this last year has been unbearable, I think death will be kinder and softer than this year has been. You want to say all that but you don’t think you can do so without crying.

#lee seokmin fanfic #lee seokmin x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #Seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt imagines #t: writting #t: lee seokmin

43 notes · View notes

two-white-butterflies · 1 year ago

Text

post mortem | part five

Description: Six thieves gather hostages and lock themselves in the Royal Mint of Spain - a criminal mastermind by the alias of the Dragon manipulates the police to buy them enough time to print money. (money heist au)

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader, and Aemond Targaryen x Reader.

Rating: Mature 18+

series masterlist | part four

(BEL-AIR, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. COLE ESTATE.)

Alicent Hightower knew the price of fortune - all of the material things she had in this life was because of her hard work. She was born in a small village; Bohoniki. It was engraved in her mind that the only way that she'd escape poverty was to study hard. - and study, she did.

Studied so hard that her eyes were strained after a few years - and when the exam results came out - she was thrown away, casted aside for some hot-shot heiress that would probably waste the opportunity of going to college. That was the day that she vowed to work - to step on whoever's corpse it took to have what she wanted.

But she was a woman.

She always had to be a victim against other people's actions. She worked hard to get accepted into a new university, but she ends up falling in love with her Economics Professor. He was beautiful - with silver hair that went past his shoulders. She was enthralled with the way that the words spewed out of his mouth. She had three beautiful children with him - same in temperament, same in looks.

You could take a girl out of the cold, but not the cold out of the girl.

Sooner or later, she'd become the abuser too. She left her family for a businessman - a man that could provide the life that she desired - was it her fault? Partly, but now it's come to bite her.

"Aegon has always been a mischievous child. I don't know why - we always provided him everything that he wanted. Maybe, that was the reason - he had everything and nothing in this world made him happy. But stealing made him happy - he says that it excites him." Alicent cleared her throat, stirring her tea clockwise.

"- it's not the first time that the cops have knocked on my door." she chuckled bitterly, assuming that what had happened was a minor thing - a small shoplifting incident that would be fixed with a few hundred dollars.

"What Mr. Aegon Targaryen has done - is of a different level, Congresswoman. We'll need your help to get him back." Corlys smiled. The government airlifted him to USA the moment they found out about Aegon's identity. What they were doing needed to be stop - before it could become a precedence for other terrorists.

"Get him back? Is he lost?" Alicent joked again. Corlys' demeanor shifted, and he leaned back on the sofa. "He is a terrorist," he said bluntly, and the atmosphere slowly turned dull. "Is this about the PETA Organization again? He's a soft hearted boy," she reasoned and the man shook his head, placing a yellow file on the coffee table.

She quickly placed the teacup beside her - hands shaking as she reached for the file. "The Royal Mint of Spain: Currently Occupied by Terrorists." the headline read out, a picture of her son in the bubble beside the drawing. Her lips shudder, fingers touching the picture.

How long has it been since she's last seen a photograph of her son? Those chubby cheeks still remained, but his eyes were down-set and his eye-bags were more prominent. "This is not real, whatever game you're playing Inspector Corlys - it's not funny. Especially now that election season is moving closer." her voice turned stoic.

"I am afraid that it is not a game - The Government of Spain is losing money in their attempts to quell this act of terrorism. One of the accused is your son, and you will help us if you want to win the reelection." he threatened, placing the deal more bluntly - aware of how politicians could turn and twist narratives. "I can just deny his existence, there are no records that the boy is mine." Alicent's face suddenly turned cold.

Corlys resisted the urge to roll his eyes - the Congresswoman's poker face was as stupid as her platforms. "You and I both know that you're not going to do that. Parents love their children more than anything, even when they are the shackles that bind us." he stated, taking a nonchalant sip of his chamomile tea. Alicent breathes a sigh of relief, partly afraid of what they'd ask her to do next.

"How am I going to help you? In Aegon's eyes, I'm good as dead." she scoffed, unable to entertain the notion that her children still loved her. She didn't deserve their love, neither their time. "What year did you leave Spain, congresswoman?" Corlys inquired and her teeth burrowed into her lower lip. "Twenty-one years ago," she answered.

"Your son was 2-3?"

"4 or 6. I'm not sure," she replied - in a tone that told her that she still loved her children. "A little too young, but still old enough to realize that you abandoned him." he further explains, taking something out of a separate folder. He places it on the coffee table. In all bold letters, she could barely make out the outline of her son's name.

MY MOTHER, MY HERO By Aegon Matthew Targaryen

Her eyes trailed up - until she was staring deep inside of the Old Snake's eyes. She'll do everything it takes to save her son, even risk her political career.

(EIGHT HOURS INTO THE HEIST.)

"Is he going to be alright?" Rhaenyra couldn't help but inquire. She's only been around her brother as much as there were fingers in her hands, but she's grown to love him. She loves him the same way that a woman loves her son. The thought of him possibly dying - it didn't sit well with her. "There's a bit of bleeding, but Mysaria had it fixed." Daemon responded, and his niece raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we weren't allowed to use real names?" she placed a hand on his collar, straightening his zipper with rehearsed ease. "Force of habit," he shrugged while freeing himself from her grasps. It was impossible to stay sated around his niece - around a beautiful girl. When she came into his life - he rebuked her. He couldn't understand why his older brother would adopt his ex-wife's daughter.

Aemma cheated on him with a barber - now after she's died of Cancer. Viserys still loves her. Loves her more than he loves Daemon. He couldn't stand the girl, that's why he left for college - he'd rather live in another country than watch his brother play house.

"Does the Professor know that his son is bleeding?" Rhaenyra asked, staring into the camera - knowing that her father was watching from behind it. "He doesn't need to know, worst comes to worst, we'll need better medical care." Daemon took a sip of his cappuccino. "Does that mean that he's stopped bleeding?" she frowned and he shook his head. "Stop babying him, it's a fucking scratch." he placed the mug loudly on the ceramic table - carefully retreating into the halls before anything else happened between them.

Daemon prepared another cup of instant coffee, surprised to see Aemond cleaning his bandaged wound. "What are you doing?" his nephew sanitized the skin around the gash, Daemon takes a mammoth stride towards the window - watching the police prepare their camp around the Royal Mint. "Just because we're on the clock, doesn't mean that there isn't time for slacking off." he responded.

Turning to look at his nephew - whose attention was plastered back into that bleeding piece of skin. "I hope you don't mind, but I haven't told Volantis about this little injury yet." he pointed at the young boy and Aemond frowned. "Why would she need to know?" he acted oblivious, adding more fuel to Daemon's anger.

"You're clearly together," he gritted his teeth - voice full of envy. It was unfair! He fucked the girl first, but his nephew was reaping late game rewards. "We're not." Aemond responded bluntly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "Explain to me why there's always a moaning contest in her room, then?" Daemon scoffed. "Is she always stretching? Watching a horror movie perhaps?" Daemon antagonized, watching his nephew throw a piece of cloth angrily.

"I don't care if she's learning pilates or watching fucking Annabelle. I just want to get my money and get out of here." Aemond could feel his patience running thin. "You wouldn't mind then, if I made her my wife?" Daemon smiled mischievously. Aemond was just about to reply, but Aegon suddenly barges inside the room.

"You have to look at what's happening outside. It's urgent!" the boy's panicked voice caught their attention. "What is it?" Aemond groaned - aware that he was unable to walk due to his injury. "Mother." Aegon whispered, and the room's atmosphere dulled.

(TWENTY-TWO YEARS BEFORE D-DAY.)

Alicent couldn't stand staring at her children. They'd cry all the time - and she couldn't stand their constant need for her attention. "Aemond please stop crying, I don't know what to do." she cried, holding her son close to her chest.

It was going to be four hours before her husband returned, and by then, he was going to be too tired to take care of children. It was unfortunate because he was the only one who knew what to do. Viserys was the only one responsible enough to maintain a home.

"He's probably hungry," Aegon peeked through the dark living-room. Alicent could feel more tears flow out of her irises. Her son needed milk, and she was too stupid to even think about that. "Yeah, yeah. Uhh Aegon can you please call Peepaw for me. I-I need help." she stuttered - ashamed of her stupidity.

---

"You shouldn't have called me at this time, I had a sermon today." Otto scolded his daughter, removing his coat and placing it on the rack beside the door. "I didn't know what to do - the kids haven't stopped crying since their father left." she sobbed.

"I always told you that having children this young was a mistake. Imagine, you're only eighteen and you already have two-children? It is an abomination, Alicent." her father scolded, and she could only bow her head in the face of his criticism. She severely needed his help.

He reached for Aemond who was fussing in Alicent's arms. "I didn't have a choice, you told me that I'd go to hell if I didn't marry Viserys." she grimaced, and his dark glare returns. "Premarital Sex, Alicent. I couldn't allow you to sin." he gritted his teeth. His face softened, seeing the familiar figure of his favorite grandchild. "Aegon," he smiled before turning to his daughter.

"Go and rest, I will handle everything."

@fan-goddess @marvelescvpe @theshatteredideal @acollectionofcells1 @mxacegrey @bellstwd @nyctophilic0vitnir @icarusgloom @pearlstiare @themotherofblood @immyowndefender @ammo23 @ladywin17

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader

113 notes · View notes