#and thinking abt a world where they never met would fuck them up quite a bit

[arolesbianism]

I don't know if I'm gonna have Sprinkles and Butter fully tell everyone abt past timeline stuff yet but if they do I need Mason to start to put two and two together and ask abt Helmet and then the second the two give them the shrug they and Helmet forget they're supposed to be enemies for a second and just both look over at each other in knowing horror

[cyanspica]

Please talk abt Thomgelica! I don’t ship them but I’m open to hearing about it & potentially shipping them

Oh boy... now you've done it hahah

In essence, Thomgelica works for me the same. major reasons that Hamgelica does.

Thomas and Alex are, in my view, the definition of same input, different output. Their personalities are pretty similar: both smart, educated, outspoken, sassy, vain, good writers, ambitious, but the way they interact with the world is so different. It probably comes down to their backgrounds, with Alex having to fight much harder to get to the place he is than Thomas and not always having the same respect, so he's the one responding to rumors that Thomas just lets slide right off. And their views are different, too, but if they weren't, I think it's quite easy to imagine them becoming the kind of tight friends/allies that James and Thomas are.

So, moving onto Angelica: the biggest thing she wants is a mind at work, someone who can match her in wit and conversation. That's Alex at first for her---and who matches Alex's mind in turn, later on? Thomas. So if you put her and Thomas in a room together, I think she'll very quickly identify that. And she did, as she says, want to convince him to write a sequel to the Declaration, so there's already that motivation to talk to him, that background knowledge that he's produced brilliant things and that she wants to be part of it, someone who can improve upon what he's already done---or at least persuade him to do it.

I think depending on the setting and time, there's a touch of resentment that drives her towards him, too. Especially if Alex has fucked everything up with her sister. She sacrificed him for her, and then he's going to go fuck up Eliza's whole life? Hell no. So what if Angelica goes and fucks his worst enemy? Alex doesn't deserve anything from her anymore. Even if Alex hasn't blown up her sister's life, I think there's still some appeal in doing something she shouldn't. She can't have Alexander. She doesn't get her mind at work and marries someone who she finds boring, but Thomas is everything she wanted. Why shouldn't she take it later, when she already gave up what she wanted for Eliza? She can trust on Thomas's discretion. So there's some forbidden appeal there too.

Of course, if it's a modern setting, she can and will fuck whoever she wants as she pleases, and Thomas is hot, smart, and accomplished, just like her, so of course she's going to take the opportunity to fuck him.

In turn, I think Thomas is totally charmed by this sophisticated woman who comes up to him, challenges him, and tells him point-blank that he should do better. Thomas, in my opinion, is always striving to be better and never shies from a challenge. And he doesn't get many of those---like her, there's very few people on his level. She's not going to take his shit. She intrigues him, and she's going to stand up into him, but in a less obnoxious way than Alex and with a lot less yelling (can you tell I also ship Jamliton LMAOO??).

And Thomas would absolutely lean into the forbidden angle too and fuck his enemy's sister-in-law/ex/situationship/whatever Angelica happens to be to Alex, because Thomas thinks Alex is an asshole and he likes to spite him. That she happens to be stunningly attractive is just the icing on the cake.

If we also get historical, there's a lot of fun background there to lean into. The two of them actually met in real life and keep up a running correspondence, and Thomas was (understandably) totally charmed by Angelica. He's a fucking simp for her. He writes to her after she leaves France (where they met around 1785) and literally says the sun is shining wrong the day after she leaves France and invites her to Niagara Falls. Angelica sends him a gift and gets one a copy of one of his portraits that she says is a worse copy of the one Thomas's lover Maria Cosway has, but that his likeliness is better preserved in her heart. Totally normal things to say to your platonic friend.

The two of them make a perfect couple---they're both aligned in their goals, intelligence, and interests. In a modern world, they're the ultimate power couple. In a historical one, there's so much forbidden energy to lean into, and all of the same appeal.

Plus Angelica will totally peg him, and Thomas is totally into that.

[fornshinoyaz]

(ó﹏ò｡) YRM. STAR ★ ☆ WASEDA UNI PROFILES ! !

>          ♡ ̷  m. list /  next.  ֵ ꩜

about them !

>    ★ ̷  TOBIO KAGEYAMA: oh, where do ii start. a bit of a problem. read his bio. devoted to 1 thing & 1 thing only - volleyball (cheating). before his life became volleyball, he was a guitarist. childhood friends with hinata. thats probs why hinata still tolerates him. he likes thinks to think he’s changed since y’all broke up (he hasn’t). speaking of you, he can’t believe he’s still blocked on ur phone lol. seemingly unbothered. caught up in his own world. for whatever reason, when you come back around, he can’t seem to leave you alone. 

>    ★ ̷  SHOYO HINATA: golden retriever boy. it’s him & his bike against the world fr. insanely popular on yt. his fan girls are literally insane. whenever he links w/ kenma twt goes crazy. for someone so heavily invested in vball, he always on twt. just silly. loves tobio but he loves you more.

>    ★ ̷  WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA: funniest person alive. that’s bcs everything he says is literal. he also takes everything literal. misses social quos sometimes. vball is his life tbh. confident. cutie, but only with you. drops random drops of wisdom that should help change tobio’s ways but it doesn’t. if you weren’t enough, why would ushijima be?

>    ★ ̷  MIYA ATSUMU: the better twin in his opinion tbh. his opinion rly dont mean much. lies for fun, just cus. #2 instigator. makes fun of literally EVERYONE, even in their darkest moments. makes it fairly obvious he doesn’t fw tobio anymore. but they’re teammates so he’ll act accordingly. loves the competition. went viral on tiktok for being hot. took your side in the break up.

>    ★ ̷  SUNA RINTAROU: antisocial dickhead. he’s just a smartass to be a smartass. messy. guitarist & singer. one of the closest friends to tobio. he was a lot worse before he met you. you’re the only one he rlly, truly gives a fuck abt. when the news came out, he was about to beat tobio tf up. he def took your side. but u didn’t want to come between their friendship. it was never truly the same after what he did. 

>    ★ ̷  MIYA OSAMU: quit volleyball to open an onigiri shop. was forced to get twitter by his twin. he loves food. still plays vball occasionally, but only to beat his brother. not as apart of the gc, simply bcs he doesnt give a fuck. however it is important to know, he took tobio’s side.

>    ★ ̷  YUMA MATSUDA: the middle child of the matsudas. puppy in human form. the best big brother u could ask for. he never liked tobio for you. then when you broke up, oh it was oooveeer. yuma is incredibly petty && cussed him out as soon as heard what happened. all his respect was gone. slowly, he’s been able to tone it down. they are teammates & all. but he’s not apart of the boys gc now, to stop coming there being anymore beef. you could careless ab tobio’s comfort.

>    ★ ̷  ALL CRIMINAL NO MIND🔦: gc featuring kageyama, ushijima, hinata, osamu, atsumu, and suna.

>    ★ ̷  waseda boys🏐: the bigger gc that’s barely used featuring tobio, hinata, ushijima, osamu, yuma, atsumu, and suna.

[citriarchive]

i actually have a lot of feelings abt yaevinn going down a path of less kindness. i think he knows how easily he could've decided to stop choosing kindness because...it's fucking exhausting. it is. it is so tiring. he could've killed aelirenn (different one from the historical aelirenn), but he didn't. he couldn't. but he could've chased aelirenn. he THOUGHT about chasing aelirenn. but he didn't. and honestly i think that choice had. interesting repercussions.

uhhh more under the cut im sorry XD

if he had gone after aelirenn, he would've had a far darker view of the world, honestly. he would've found that killing aelirenn didn't fill the void that was left by his first partner's passing. but he would've thought it was somehow his purpose. this constant seeking of revenge, even on others' behalfs. behalves? the point is he would've grown so bitter. he wouldn't have adopted that "shit sucks but there is still so much beauty and i want to be a part of that" mindset. and i can really only think of one way that would be good for him: he either never would've met hansell or would've just gotten rid of him outright. that saves him a decade of torture. but at what cost?

like i genuinely don't think he would've even tried to heal from his trauma even without the decade of dr. hansell doing fucked up shit to him. i don't think he would've wanted to be better. and as a result of that, he probably wouldn't have stayed with the party, which. actually means a lot of things (i recently learned that he has had quite an impact on the party 😅). i can't fully put all of them into words but i know that like. he wouldn't have learned to value his life and himself. he could've, sure, but he wouldn't be NEARLY as willing as he is canonically.

really the primary difference is the deviation from "i am surrounded by darkness but i can see lights and i want to be a part of that" to veer into "what's the point in being a light in the darkness if you'll just get snuffed out for it". which sounds absolutely wild for him specifically. like im the one talking about this hypothetical and i'm out here like. it's hard to imagine yaevinn without him trying to be a light in others' lives who will accept him as one. it's such an integral part of him that i just can't imagine him without it but i know for a FACT that's what would've happened.

and honestly it's not even that he or i can't understand how people can be like that. again. it's tiring to choose to be kind. in fact honestly he's kind of scooching into being that tiktok that's like "as a gentle reminder that i am choosing kindness. which means i'm more than happy to explore other options if i feel the kindness is not working out". but it's just that there is a life where he skipped the kindness after aksel died and he met aelirenn again. he jumped the kindness ship etc. etc.

[twistedyapping]

my 2 favorite lyrics of all time

i almost started yapping on my ig story again and then caught myself so im here now-

i saw sumn earlier it was one of those "pick a song that starts with the first initial of ur name" and i got excited bc i got the song with my one of my favorite lyrics of ever in it- seen it all by korn

so here are my 2 favorite lyrics ur honor:

AND!

and what's interesting abt these two and what i caught myself abt to yap abt, is that they both come from very different eras in my life and therefore take on entirely new meanings to me- Which ya is what song lyrics are kinda supposed to do But this is just interesting 2 me-

so turbulent was the first one- heard that shit when i first listened to fandom and i was like Oh my god that is so fucking tight- and to this day it's one of my favorite parts in the song-

"you gave me hell on earth and said 'Work with it'" hit so hard for me though bc hi. my chiron is in aquarius. That's the short astrology answer but this ain't my astrology blog so what's the yapfest reason-

my entire life ur honor i have gone thru failed friendship after failed friendship, and somehow all of them managed to be with incredibly shitty people that quite literally gave me hell on earth and said work with it.

most, if not all of those friendships died off and crashed and burned along the way like an extremely elaborate dumpster fire- and it got to the point where i thought i would just never have real friends. i still think that, especially rn, but im workin thru it, it's fine 😵‍💫

the most heartbreaking part of that is the fact that since i was a wee lad i have always just wanted a group of friends to hang out with, a group that i felt secure in and nobody was out to get each other, nobody had a lack of respect for each other based on incredibly petty things, etc. always wanted that from the day i was born. And god looked me dead in the eyes and told me "LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO in what world."

perhaps this one in the future, idk, but that's where this lyric comes from. almost everyone (there being legitimately 1 exception) i have ever met has given me hell on earth and said to work with it.

now we get to the seen it all era of my life.

this is the era of my life that i am in currently where i feel like i have indeed seen it all- where all that hurt and betrayal and near-giving up on life experiences have culminated into just. life experience.

the era of my life where, using the life experience i have gained through all that absolute hell fire, i fix shit.

am i broken rn, not really, i used to be tho- But when i was broken i managed to fix myself enough to be Not broken so u can argue i guess But!!!

weird shit keeps happening in my life and i manage to keep it together now. i have done the most tedious soul searching work, i have forced myself into the depths of my mind that i really would've rathered to not go into but i did anyway for funsies, and i have figured shit out. i have found who i am, and understood that it will always change, that i am holding onto something that is never stagnant and my grip must constantly change to keep up with it, otherwise i will fall and die.

and with all of this, even though it sounds like im giving myself plenty rn, i never give myself enough credit. i been THRU IT and yet i am constantly like "Ya no it wasn't that bad tbh."

logically i can understand that i have been through a lot more than like. a born rich white guy has. But i have like no past life event permanence or something and i have to be actively thinking abt what ive gone thru in order to understand Oh ya that was. Not great.

but when im actively thinking abt it like rn, i understand that IVE SEEN IT ALL- STILL CANT TASTE ITTTTT- SMASHED TO THE WALL THAT BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEESSSS IVE DONE IT ALLLL FUCKED UP, WASTEDDDDDD- STILL IN MY BLOOD BUT NOW INSIDE IM SEENNNNN

now i am the broken one who fixed it. 💪💪💯🔥💪🔥💯🔥💪🔥💪💪🔥🔥💯💪 #stayhard 🔥💪🔥💯💪🔥🔥💯💪🔥💪🔥💪🔥💪🔥💯

anyway ya i needed to yap- that's abt it. see ya.

- 🌙 -

[summercreolefanfictioner]

😲📸 can i ask for a aleksi and maya first time interaction? it'd be so complex to they meet to me

Here's a gift to my followers, especially those that crave badass women vibes

alexandra and maya sakamaki: the beginning of the end of the beginning

Hmm if I'm being honest, Aleksi and Maya's relationship kind of mirrors Loid and Yor's dynamic from Spy x Family (just make it platonic big sis-lil sis friendship and imagine them working together)

It's like spy x assassin combo right there

So yeah as mentioned from @besnella 's post of how Aleksi first saw Yui, it was also the same time Aleksi met Maya and guuurl the height difference between them is so large, Aleksi looks like her big sis (I want a big sis omg)

Just imagine Aleksi's 185 cm height vs Maya's 145 one. Go figure.

Aleksi thought "ah this girl's cute" cause Maya has this Japanese standard look on her, ya know long coal hair, sharp doll eyes, pale skin, the works (she actually reminds Aleksi of those Japanese kokeshi dolls, ya know it's like Japanese matryoshkas)

On the other hand, the only thing that comes to Maya's mind when she saw Aleksi was "fire" and "power" (Alexa, play Girl on Fire)

Aleksi heard of Maya being a former human who turned into an incomplete vampire bcos of a blood transfusion spell, then was later on sired by one of the Sakamaki's and married her to seal the deal.

Yeah, as if Karlheinz wreaking havoc in the demon and human world is not enough, he had to make his spawn man child (this is Kanato but let's pretend we don't know him) wed the poor doll.

So one time Aleksi was becoming the queen of the night, enjoying the party to bliss when she nearly had her fall and someone was pouring wine.

Good thing, Maya managed to save her, catching her by the arm before matters got worse.

And yes, some obnoxious gaslighting vampire noble became the victim of that pouring wine but we don't care abt them cause they just think of us humans as blood bags anyway

That was just the beginning.

One day, Aleksi was assigned on a mission, but not just a mission where she kills and retrieves info then go.

The thing is, she can never be caught. Like she had to make it seem like the vampire drug den and all the people did not exist. And even though it's relatively easy, Aleksi cannot move hastily.

Because one, the den was located in the human world and the person behind it was some famous personality sht. It's like Karlheinz being Togou Sakamaki in that world.

Pft. Fucking asshole

But she was just informed that someone is backing her up from the shadows so she just needs to do her usual work.

So yeah the mission went smoothly. Aleksi murdered the mastermind, got the files she needed from their inventory room, etc. She was about to leave the damn place when she heard a man scream from the hallway.

The next thing, the fvcking sht was crawling his way towards her.

Aleksi made a stance, readying her gun to end his poor fate when the man suddenly stopped in his tracks then died, blood spilling from his mouth.

After a few minutes, Aleksi saw Maya enter the room casually, unscathed like nothing happened while holding her silver bow and arrow.

Maya bowed to her in respect.

"Thank you for your work, miss. I will handle the rest."

Aleksi didn't expect that but oh well

And the next thing, Maya summoned all her skeleton familiars from the demon world to fix the mess in the den. Like the den has to be freaking empty, to a point that no one had been there.

"Have you been doing this for a long time now?"

Maya nodded. "It's quite hard to clean blood once it has dried up so I've been fixing things before they get quite difficult."

And that's how they bonded. Turns out, Aleksi will prob have missions involving Maya since the vampire doll is tasked to ensure no mythical beings (esp vampires) are causing havoc in the human world.

Aleksi "So do you just cover up their mess or you kill them?"

Maya "Depends. Most of the time, I just kill them in the dream world so they would die of natural causes."

It was purely a strict business relationship between the two... until Aleksi started sending her snake familiars to Maya so they can bond over other things like shopping, spa, salon etc

Like there was one time Maya was serving snacks to the Sakamaki bros when a small snake appeared and wrapped itself around her hands

I swear Ayato freaked out and thought their family doll has a secret pet snake. Even Reiji was so ready for his lecture when Maya just casually told them

"It's a snake familiar sent by a business partner."

But yeah Aleksi taught Maya things like dressing up for the mission, what kind of makeup she should put on during disguise. Even taught her how to wear a wig properly so Maya won't have to deal with tons of hairstyle accessories just to make her hair different for every mission

"Just dye your hair, Maya-chan! I bet you'll look pretty in blonde."

"... I still don't want to."

Sometimes they would bond during training sessions, especially when Maya wants to vent out abt the Sakamaki bros, like when they screw up somewhere and want her to clean up their mess.

"I swear I will kill Ayato-san if he weren't my husband's older brother." 💀💀💀

But yeah overall they trust each other completely with their life, and it's evident by how they watch each other's back during missions.

If Aleksi was the one fighting the battles, Maya will work in the shadows to ensure no one gets in her way.

[lacharcutiere]

ur my favorite drug & my worst hangover [nsfw 18+, terushima yūji]

5,9k words

✯haikyuu!! masterlist✯

winter sem break brings the new year, & a few other new developments too.

smut, tiny bit of angst, fwb, fluff // quit - lil aaron & travis barker. god this song goes so hard

the way all i talk abt is how much i love teru but have nothing to show for it— yeah we’re gonna fix that. man i love him

☾𓆙𓂻

— SOBER

the soft hum of the tv in the background slowly fades into your awareness as you blink blearily awake, almost forgetting where you are for a second.

you’re in yūji’s living room, duh. your semestral break has not been nearly as interesting as either of you’d hoped: instead, you’ve both succumbed to alternating between each other’s childhood homes, binging netflix and random youtube videos and eating chips and tubs of ice cream late into the night, as has been your custom for years.

it’s dim but for the glow of the screen, and it’s kind of chilly in here now, even with you wrapped up in a hoodie. (yours, not yūji’s. you only borrow his in emergencies.)

he’s not next to you now, but his footsteps—you know them by now: quick and kind of heavy but not overbearingly loud—are entering the room again, and you feel the sofa cushions dip a little as he retakes his seat next to you.

“hey,” he says, smiling, “you’re awake.”

“hmmph,” you mumble, sitting upright to stretch your back. “what time is it?”

“uh.” he squints at the digital clock next to the tv. “like one?”

“‘m cold.”

“me too.”

“‘nd tired.”

“you just woke up?”

“i’m tired,” you whine.

yūji groans. “you’re really gonna make me go to sleep this early?”

“you don’t have to sleep, but i will.”

“yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “but who’s gonna keep me company then?”

“i dunno,” you shoot back, “text tetsu or something. he’s probably still up.”

he rolls his eyes but relents, standing from the sofa. “fine.” and he holds out a hand to help you up, which you don’t take.

“i can do shit for myself,” you joke, rolling your eyes.

“right.”

—

it’s not much warmer in his room despite the thermostat supposedly being set to an acceptable temperature, but at least the sleeping bag on the floor next to yūji’s bed is insulated, and he’s given you a couple extra blankets for which you’re grateful. the biting chill of january does not fuck around.

so you nestle yourself into a little cocoon of linens and pillows and pull your hood up, curling into a ball in an effort to conserve your body heat. you hear him laugh a little as he watches you.

“what?”

“nothing.”

there’s the light hum of a phone ringing a few times, and that little beep as tetsu picks up the facetime call.

sleep clouds your senses to the background music of stifled laughter and loud whispers and the occasional static of yūji’s phone speaker.

— BUT U PULLED ME CLOSER

the next few minutes, hour—you have no idea—pass just like that, with you drifting languidly in and out of sleep and the sounds of yūji and tetsurō’s voices audible but incomprehensible in the background.

last you remember, you’re slipping back under again, hearing tetsu through the staticky iphone speaker.

and then you wake up again because you’re fucking freezing and it’s quiet and the lights are off, except for the little reading light mounted to the headboard of yūji’s bed. you sit up on your elbows, craning your neck, and see that he’s still up, lying on his stomach with his phone dimly illuminating his face.

“what time’s it?” you mumble.

“uh... 2:38.” he pauses. “y’alright?”

“cold,” you say.

he locks his phone then, and he just looks at you kind of blankly and maybe a little mockingly? except it must not be mocking; it must be something else, because he’s just kind of... studying you.

you look back up at him expectantly. “what?” you say.

he sighs, kind of rolls his eyes, turns away from the light to hide the little smile playing on his lips. “come on up here.” he scoots over and pats the spot next to him.

thankful for an extra source of body heat and blankets and pillows, you shove yourself up off the ground and shuffle over to the bed.

it’s kind of funny, the way you’re basically adults now and yet your relationship’s still fundamentally the same as it was when you met years ago.

—

duh, yūji hates that. it’s true, that whole thing about how “every one of your guy friends has thought about fucking you at some point.” it’s true, at least for him.

and there’s something electric in how you haven’t slept next to him in months because you’ve both been busy with school, and now you’re back here. back here, where it feels like you belong.

there’s something deep in his chest that’s set aflame by the way you laugh and let him tuck the comforter over you; the way your sweatpant-covered legs brush against his own underneath it.

he wants to touch you.

he wants to wrap his hand around your thigh and pull it over his own; to run his fingertips up the length of your arm and make you shiver; to snake his around your waist and pull your head into his chest.

maybe he will once you’re asleep, he figures. once his pride can’t be hurt because you don’t have to know.

except... except he’d let it be hurt for you. without a moment’s hesitation. he would shatter it himself for you, would let you take him in your fingers and rip him to pieces too small to be puzzled back together.

because maybe he doesn’t just want you. maybe he loves you.

but even he, completely truthfully, doesn’t know.

he’s got a sneaking suspicion that he does, though, because he’s rarely confused and this is an enigma he can’t quite seem to decipher, no matter what he tries.

it’s absurd, too, he realizes laying on his back next to you, how suddenly he’s afraid to touch you. because the two of you have always been touchy, that’s just you. you’re two halves; you’re so similar. you’ve been attached at the hip since childhood—why is it different now, now that he wants that more than anything?

so here he is, spiraling in this conundrum of feelings, when it’s cut short by you, tiredly whining, “yūji.”

“what?” he sort of feigns annoyance.

“‘m cold.”

“and?”

and. and his breath catches because you roll over and latch onto him. and he brings his arms around your shoulders and holds you to his chest.

so close, and yet so far away.

and he shudders as you lay one hand flat on his chest. it belongs there forever.

you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and inhale his scent and his brain short-circuits.

has she done this before?

and mostly unconscious, you mumble, “—warm. y’re pretty’.” his eyes go wide.

“what?”

your arms tighten around him, and he’d hate to admit it, but it’s setting him off. he’s... a little hard.

a hand settles itself on your thigh, the one that’s draped over his legs, and he pushes it downward a little, so that it’s not resting next to the rising erection in his pajama pants.

god, he wants to fuck you so badly right now, he wants for you to feel him throbbing between your legs as you whimper against his skin. but he also wants you to want him.

miraculously, a little sigh escapes your lips at the touch. so he doesn’t move his hand.

“feels nice,” you whisper.

so he decides to test the waters, and squeezes gently. you giggle sleepily.

inhibitions dissipating for a moment, his stomach leaps to his chest and he snakes that hand up over your hip, consciously avoiding your ass just in case, and rests it on your back, rubbing up and down slowly.

his chest constricts as you snuggle even closer to him. and then your leg moves back up and your thigh nudges his crotch.

your eyes snap open and he inhales sharply.

and then you’re propped up on your elbow, leaning over him.

he curses himself for forgetting to turn off the light; the flush in his cheeks is obvious.

half terrified and half excited, he watches as your face breaks into a wide, shit-eating grin.

“what?” he breathes.

your eyes narrow; a look of mischief he’s so familiar with, one that’s often mirrored on his own features. (it’s not now.)

“yūji,” you say, singsong and bright, “what’s this?”

and—oh, god, oh, fuck—you bring a hand down to rest on his dick, tenting in his pajamas.

he doesn’t know what to say to you.

“i— uhm—”

“hmm,” you hum. “y’ alright?”

he clears his throat, nods. “are— uh, are you?”

“mhm,” you laugh, wide awake now. “yūji...” you pause. he can’t stand it; he needs to know what happens next, needs to know what’s fanning the flames behind your eyes.

oh god. oh god, all he leaves is a breath in between and then you’re throwing your leg over him again and, fuck, you’re straddling him. he lets out a shaky breath, voice tight as he chokes out, “what are you doing?”

the smile is gone from your face now, replaced with something softer, something lustful. your hands move to his shoulders to balance yourself as you grind your hips down, and a low ahh slips out of him.

it’s just like that, just your clothed bodies rubbing together. he comes embarrassingly quickly in his boxers, but he lets you ride his thigh until you finish as recompense.

afterward, he excuses himself and cleans himself off in the bathroom. when he comes back, you’re sound asleep again.

that’s all that happens.

— UR GONNA FUCK ME UP

following that, everything proceeds as it had before. neither of you bother to speak of it, but nothing even seems off between you at all. it’s as if it never happened.

or maybe, yūji sometimes allows himself to think as he touches himself to the memory in the middle of nights when you’re not together, it’s like it was meant to happen.

what a wonderful illusion that is.

because he knows it won’t work, and if you ever thought about him like that, you would know, too.

the two of you have watched each other fall in love—get dumped, ghost people, whatever—several times over the past few years. he remembers your first boyfriend, your last year of middle school: the guy had been a mutual friend that you’d been crushing on for months. and yet, when you’d finally become a thing, it had taken no more than a couple of weeks for you to grow uninterested and dump him.

it’s not like he hasn’t done similar things in the past.

and it’s not like some people who’ve dated either of you haven’t had better luck; there have been several who have been the ones to break your hearts.

but both of you have yet to have maintained a long-term relationship, and neither of you have kept in contact with many of your exes.

he doesn’t want to be another one of those, and he certainly doesn’t want you to be, either.

—

it’s maybe a week after that night when you pick him up to go get takeout and ice cream.

that, in itself, is a pretty normal thing.

but then you’re sitting in your car, and between spoonfuls of mocha chip and hot caramel, you say, “so i saw this thing.”

“hm?” he responds, his mouth still full.

“your aura is striking, dude,” you quote. there’s a pause as you try to suppress a giggle. and then: “can i kiss you deeply, bro?”

he snorts and jokes, “anytime you want.” and he really hopes that you take his tone at face value, but he also knows you way better than that.

so he’s only half surprised when you actually do. half surprised, and wholly in awe.

your hands are in each other’s hair. it’s quick—feverish, but quick—and the first thing you say when you pull back is, “tastes like sugar.”

he laughs again, unsure of what move to make next. “yeah?”

and then you’re... shy? because you look away from him, back down to the cup of ice cream in your lap, and you say, “you feel good.” it’s so low that it’s almost unintelligible. but he hears you.

both your faces are burning when you look back up at him. “should we talk about that?”

“‘bout what? kissing? ‘s not the first time.”

it isn’t—he kissed you once in middle school, because there was this other girl that he’d thought was pretty, and he wanted to make her jealous. it hadn’t worked; she’d just thought the two of you were together, and a teacher had scolded you for pda. but at least it had been a fun story to laugh at for a while after.

this is obviously different, though, and you both know that. this kiss wasn’t to make anyone jealous. this one was for yourselves.

and anyway, that’s not what you meant by that.

“no,” you say. “the um... last week. at your place.”

“oh, yeah.”

“should we, um, do you wanna talk about it?”

“d’you?”

you shrug.

“alright,” he says. pauses. “so... what was that about?”

and you almost laugh incredulously. “you’re asking me?”

he stares blankly.

“you’re the one who got a boner when we were cuddling, yūji. as if we’ve never done that before.” you notice the mortified look on his face, and your expression softens and your voice lowers. “you wanna tell me what that was about? you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

and he laughs nervously and says, “no, no, ‘s fine. i was just kinda horny, that’s all. i haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while, y’know?”

you give him a sardonic grin. “and that’s why it only took you, like, three minutes to come?”

“yeah... yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

a moment passes where you stop and think for a little, and then you turn back to look at him. “it was, uh, good, though. like, objectively. it was good.”

it’s his turn to flash a grin at you: “‘course it was. it’s me.”

“and me.”

“shoulda won the sex gods superlative in last year’s yearbook.”

“ha.” another thing crosses your mind: “and now look at us. too busy with school to even have time to fuck anyone.”

yūji doesn’t say anything, so you do it for him.

you start out carefully. “but...”

“but?”

“do you— i mean. we’ve got, like, what? three weeks left before we go back? and we’re stuck here. and— and we already hang out like every single day anyway, and. uh. and it was objectively good.”

“are you—”

“and i’ve known you for years. come on. there’s, like, nothing i could do to embarrass myself around you anymore.”

friends with benefits. you’re suggesting that you temporarily be friends with benefits.

“and it wasn’t weird after last time,” you add. “i think.”

“hm,” he says, “yeah, no, it wasn’t.”

his first instinct is to say no, to tell you it’s a bad idea. but as he thinks about it more, he realizes that you’re kind of right. and anyway, what is the worst that could happen? because he’s pretty sure he’s far gone enough for you that falling a little further wouldn’t change a thing. even if he weren’t, he’d never think of hurting you intentionally.

and, he figures, he’d hardly mind being hurt by you.

—

that is how you end up back in his bed an hour later—his parents are out on a date this evening; you’ve got until a few hours past sundown to fuck and clean yourselves off and make it look like you’ve been eating and talking and watching tv the whole time.

outside of the guise of midnight impulses, it is a strange—but also strangely pleasant—thing to be having sex with your best friend.

there’s no pretense, hardly any need to keep up appearances (at least, for you). you’re not strangers only concerned with your own pleasure; you know each other. despite never actually having done this before, he already knows what you like, and vice versa.

it’s nice.

it’s nice to hear him laugh when you whine for him to stop being so gentle, vanilla-ass bitch, only to have him call you a “horny little—” (to which you respond, no, you.)

and it’s nice to sleep with someone who reads all the cues you give him without you even needing to say anything.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and... it might not be just because of the dynamic between you two, or the fact that you don’t have to be afraid to tell him what you like and what you don’t—the fact that you don’t even have to tell him at all.

it’s nice. for you. and it’s hell for him.

it’s hell for him to have to hold back all the sweet nothings he wants to whisper in your ear—he’s restricted to you like that, huh, baby? and fuuuck and god, you’re so fucking tight, and he knows you’re into it, but he wants to be treating you like a princess right now. he wants to call you his, wants to whisper, tell me you’re all mine against your bare shoulders, wants to tell you he loves you.

so... he does love you.

but he can’t say that. he knows he can keep you around, but you’re not his to keep.

—

it continues like that for the next several days: you fuck, it’s good sex, and he’ll touch himself to the memories if you’re not there: memories of how you taste, of the softness of your skin, of you with your legs around his waist and your bare chests pressed together, damp and warm with sweat.

it is so gratifying, and even more painful.

and then, one day, as he’s fucking you in your childhood bedroom—all white walls covered in sketches and colorful postcards you’ve accumulated over the years—something is slightly off.

there’s something about it that feels more intimate than the other times, and it goes slower than before. it’s not all lust and clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor and bodies shoved hurriedly into mattresses.

you kiss him for a long time before any clothing comes off, and you keep pulling him back to your lips as he thrusts into you. you’re not urging him faster, more, harder; you let him keep a steady pace and arch your back into the sheets as you lie underneath him.

it hits him as you come down from your orgasm and writhe in his arms, softly moaning, “god, yūji, i l—”

he stops.

“don’t say that,” he says.

still shaking and catching your breath, you respond, “what?”

“just don’t.” but his tone is casual, and so you don’t think much of it.

—

you don’t hook up every time you hang out, and yeah. you were right. it’s hardly different than before. except, isn’t it?

you’re sitting on opposite sides of your sofa one morning after your parents have left for work—he slept over the previous night, but you didn’t have sex. you’d spent it laughing over the dumbest things and blasting music as you drove around without a destination.

your’re sitting with your knees pulled against your chest, scrolling lazily on your phone while you and yūji eat handfuls of cereal straight from the box between you.

it’s mostly quiet for once; comfortably silent. neither of you have ever really been a morning person.

— BUT U KNOW I LIKE IT

the ice cracks a little when he stops shoving your hand away to grab himself another handful of cereal. you notice, and then you wonder if you always noticed little things like that, because it feels kind of weird to. not that you mind.

meanwhile, yūji watches you, studying the way your hair falls messily around your face, the way one sleeve of your sweatshirt is rolled halfway up your forearm and the other is pulled all the way over your hand.

the living room is bright, surrounded by windows, and you’re illuminated by light yellow late-morning sunlight all around and he feels safe looking at you.

the ice cracks a little more when he says your name softly.

“hm?” you say, confusedly looking up at him.

“nothing,” he answers, too quickly. “i’m just... happy right now.”

you smile, radiant. “i’m glad you are.”

—

in the afternoon, you’ve grown bored and are wandering the streets of your neighborhood, voicing thoughts and pointing out people you pass by.

it’s still early, but it’s january, so the sun is already beginning to set.

when you’re a couple minutes out from your house, yūji goes quiet, and it stays like that for the rest of the walk.

and then, as he stands next to you while you unlock the door, he blurts, “i have to tell you something.”

you freeze. “what?”

it’s silent for a bit. “never mind.”

“yūji—”

“it’s okay,” he says softly.

he wants to shrink away from your gaze as you study him. he knows you know there’s something amiss, and second thoughts have almost always been his own personal hell.

graciously, though, you don’t ask. and it’s like stepping through a portal when you’re back inside; it’s all forgotten and back to how it was before.

—

but: a little while later, you’re lying side-by-side on your bed watching netflix again, and for whatever reason you turn to look at him for a moment and it’s just—

you can’t look away. and you don’t know why.

he can feel your eyes on him and it burns, and he wonders how much longer he can keep this up before he loses his mind.

when he doesn’t turn to face you, you call his name softly.

“hm?”

after an uncomfortable moment of hesitation, you say, “something’s up.”

“what?”

“yūji,” you repeat, and he forgets to breathe for a second. “are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

the mattress shifts under his weight as he sits up, resting his head in his hands. he takes a deep breath and can’t bring himself to meet your eyes.

“what’s wrong?” it sounds less like a question and more like a plea.

“i—” he starts, and then stops himself. “i can’t, i can’t do this to you.”

“can’t do what?”

there’s a painful silence, heavy with anticipation and maybe a little bit of dread.

“i don’t wanna keep hooking up with you.”

you sit up, too.

“did i...? do something wrong?”

he shakes his head and sighs, and he sounds exasperated. “it’s... no, it’s— i think...” and he seems to grow more frustrated as he fails to verbalize whatever it is, this strange cold fire stinging in the pit of his stomach.

“what do you think?” you whisper.

and he stands and walks to the door. his hand rests on the knob and he whispers back, in a voice that sounds precariously close to breaking, “you, when i... y’know. ’m sorry.”

and he’s gone.

and you have no idea what to think, both of what he just said and the fact that it sends an excited buzz through your nerves, even though it probably shouldn’t.

— IT'S HARD N IT'S HARDER TO ADMIT

his words are stuck in your head all night, have you caught somewhere in between laughing and crying.

you want to call him, ask him what the fuck is going on and why you think you kind of like it, but you don’t.

but when you look over at your alarm clock to see that it’s 2:00 a.m. and sleep refuses to let you succumb to it and you relent to the warm emptiness between your legs, it’s yūji whom you imagine is there to fill it.

you think of the way his tongue trails down the expanse of your neck, the way he feels inside you, as you whine into your pillow and desperately try to make yourself come.

it doesn’t even occur to you until later, when you’re waking up to sunlight slicing through your half-open blinds. and then it does, and you text him: i do that too.

he doesn’t text back, but ten minutes later, your phone rings. he sounds breathless.

“be here in ten,” he says.

you pause. “okay.”

and you are. he throws open the door as he hears your car pull up and jogs out to meet you, and all he gives you is a quick, “hey,” before dragging you inside.

there’s no one else home, so he motions for you to have a seat at the kitchen table and takes the one next to you.

“do what too?”

“what?”

“what you texted me.”

you look down, studying the seams of your sleeve and feeling your breathing go shallow.

“do what too?” he repeats.

and softly, you say, “want you.”

yūji stands, pulling you to your feet with him. “want me how?”

your eyes are wide and a little bit sad as you stare up at him. “i don’t know.”

then he cracks a tiny smile. “good,” he says, “i don’t either.

except he does.

he wants you every way, your presence, your time, your body, your fucking soul, all of it. but he doesn’t say that.

when you kiss him, he implodes, melts into your arms as if he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. but he says nothing of it.

the feeling of your wrist in his hand, the sound of your giddy giggles as he leads you to his bedroom—for now, that’s enough.

he takes it slow.

when he’s shut the door and ensured it’s locked, he turns to find you’ve already tossed your top on the floor.

a smile meets yours, gentle fingertips on your cheek, a soft whisper against your hair: “put it back on; i wanna do it myself.”

and you laugh and oblige, shivering at the now-familiar sensation of the warm metal bead on his tongue against your lip as his hand finds its way to your ass and squeezes gently.

“yūji,” you whisper.

“i like it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs into your shoulder, rubbing gently up and down your back underneath your shirt.

“hmm,” comes your contented response.

and then his fingers are rubbing gently against the hem of your shirt, easing it up to reveal your body inch by inch, and you shiver a little under his feather-light touch.

lifting your arms up, you allow him to slip your shirt back over your head, and then his hands are all over you again, squeezing your breasts through your bra and tracing lines up and down the center of your back. the little metal ball on his tongue presses against your lower lip. you tug at the hem of his hoodie, and he pulls it off.

the feeling of his skin on yours is nothing new now, and yet this time, there’s a certain nuance to it that he can’t place.

he wonders how you want him again; can’t stop wondering as you lead his hand down to the button on your jeans, laughing a little as he kneels at your feet to unzip them.

as he pulls them slowly down your legs he lines your thighs with little, butterfly-soft kisses, murmuring unintelligible praises.

when you’re left in only your bra and panties, he wraps his arms around your waist and falls backward onto the mattress, taking you down with him. you sit up a little, so that you’re straddling him, and he lets out a low sigh.

“you are fucking incredible,” he breathes as you suck gently at his neck, leaving light marks that will have faded by tomorrow.

your fingers trace the dips between his abs, tantalizingly, eventually making their way all the way down his stomach to the waistband of his sweats, and then a little further, palming his dick through them and feeling how fucking hard he is.

he groans a little, says, “please don’t tease me,” as you continue to do exactly that, but he doesn’t stop you.

when you shift a little so that you’re positioned right over him, soaking panties rubbing a tiny little wet spot into the tent of his erection, he sits up and gathers your body into his arms, lips and tongue moving against yours as one hand unclips your bra while the other settles itself on your hip, grinding you down against him. you press your thighs together at this feeling of pure need you’re experiencing and he pulls his mouth away and looks you in the eye.

“may i?” he whispers, and you smile and nod, laughing as he rolls you off of him to rid himself of the rest of his clothes and dig a condom out of his bedside table, which he hands to you.

you’re impatient as you tear it open but force yourself to roll it onto him slowly, studying his face as he revels in the feeling of your fingers grazing lightly against his dick.

once it’s on, he flips you over again, laughing, and exhales slowly as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere on the floor to be found later. his fingertips ghost gently down the sides of your thighs as he bends down to lick a long stripe between your legs and across your clit.

“fuck,” you breathe as he groans softly against your skin, the vibrations sending an electrifying buzz up your spine.

he presses his tongue flat against you, metal bar circling your clit teasingly, and then he pulls away and groans, “sit on my face,” his words hurried and slurred with lust.

so you let him move to lie on his back and straddle his face, giggling as he wraps his hands around your thighs to pull you closer.

“aw, don’t be shy, i thought that’s the whole point of this,” he says.

and then his mouth is back on you again, tongue flicking slowly and carefully, taking in your every response, and soon he’s got you shaking on top of him, grasping at the headboard and his shoulders and tangling your fingers in his hair.

he keeps going after you’ve already finished, making you writhe and whimper, only letting go of you once he’s satisfied.

he pushes you backward so that you’re still sitting with your knees on either side of him and he sits up, leaning back against the headboard. his lips are on yours, then, and he’s pulling your hips to his, the head of his cock nudging ever-so-lightly against your entrance.

“quit teasing me,” you whine when he grips your waist, refusing to let you sit yourself on his dick.

“i’m not.”

“yes you are!”

“‘m not,” he mumbles, smiling, as he draws his lips down the curve of your left shoulder and back up again. “i’m savoring the moment.”

you huff. “you can savor it with your cock in me.” and y��ji does his best not to show it, but the high he gets from those words alone, from knowing how desperate you are for him, even if it’s just for his body, sends him straight to heaven. because regardless of how much of him you want, it’s still only him that you want in this moment, and right now that’s enough.

you allow him to move at his own pace, his movements slow, languid as he holds you to his chest, one hand around your waist and the other reaching up to tangle his fingers in your hair. he lets himself say the things he wants now.

“kiss me?” he whispers, and you oblige happily. you taste like him, and he’s so content he could lose his mind.

instead he loses himself to you, shaky breaths between “god, you’re so good,” and “you have no idea… how long i’ve waited… for you to want me like this.” there’s a single thing he holds back from saying, but he still plans on saying it. he’s just saving it for the right moment.

you’re drunk off of him, your body shuddering against him with every touch of his skin to yours, not knowing what to say and yet feeling as if you know everything you’ve ever needed to. and you say it for him.

“i love you.”

the words are barely there, just a breath against his lips as you kiss him, and it’s too much for him. he finishes with something akin to a sob, taking your face into his hands. “i love you,” he responds. and then, “say it again? please?”

you close your eyes and smile, leaning into him and brushing your lips against his. “i love you, yūji.”

his hand’s on the back of your head, then, pushing you back to his mouth, wanting you closer, wanting more. and you want more, too, fingers tracing lines down his back and arms and stomach, sending waves of light through his skin. this is it, he thinks as you press your body tight against his, this is all there is.

you are everything to him.

— SOMETHING ABT U I CAN’T QUIT

in each other’s arms later that evening, you feel yūji’s chest move slowly up and down with each inhale and exhale, contented in sharing this silent moment with you, and then you know. you know how you want him. you open your mouth to speak, and he does at the exact same time. the two of you share a laugh, just like you always have.

“you first,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you can look at him properly.

he reaches up and rests a hand flat against your face and runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. “i am…” the words are slow and quiet and purposeful. “i am so in love with you.”

your smile widens against his hand. “i want you. everything… about you, with you. i want it all.”

and he mirrors your grin, just like he always has. “i’m yours to take.” his eyes flit down to your lips, his thumb still pressed against them, afraid to look you in the eye as he speaks his next words. his face flushes pink; it’s adorable. “say you’re mine, too?” it’s a request, a plea—not a command.

you reach up to your face and place your hand over his. “all yours,” you say. “don’t even have to ask.”

it’s silent for a bit again, and then he sits up, going a little more serious.

“what?”

“what happens if this doesn’t last?”

you sit up, too, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and gently pulling his head to rest against yours. “after all these years?”

“hmm.”

you think for a moment: after all these years. your whole lives, spent together, maybe not as lovers but always as two halves of a whole. it’s him you always gossip to first, whom you always went to after heartbreaks and fights with your parents. he’s the first one you told when you lost your virginity, crashed your car, got into one of your top universities. he’s held your hand through everything.

so finally you say, “i don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

he pulls away to look you in the eye. “why not?”

his nose brushes against yours as you lean your forehead against his and laugh a little. “are you dumb, yūji?”

“i don’t think so?” when you say nothing, just continuing to look at him with that shit-eating grin on your face, he goes, “am i missing something?”

you press your lips to his for a second and pull away, still smiling at him. “it’s us, yūji. always has been.”

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[grxtsch]

lyin’ eyes

[jimmy page x reader]

summary: after relationship troubles, (y/n) decides to leave and hopefully forget all that’s happened. but when she reaches a place that holds many memories, a certain old friend who she shared those memories with was waiting for her to return.

notes: i don’t know what that summary is but i made it up on the spot so don’t even complain abt it :P

also i personally think that this is my best fic so far so yeah enjoy ig 😩🤚

edit: LMAO this was supposed to be based off of the song by the eagles but my brain had other ideas rip

warnings: cheating (idk if i need to warn u abt that but i’m being safe), swearing, fluff

“(y/n) please wait!” a voice sounded from behind you as you dragged a suitcase filled with your clothes and other possessions to the front door.

“no chris, i’ve waited long enough at the damn restaurant and where were you?” you said, throwing your free hand up in the air. “you were fucking this bitch in our— no, your house.” you seethed back at your now ex-boyfriend, who stood with an expression of grief.

“in fact, i don’t want to wait at anymore restaurants for your stupid ass.” his grief soon turned into anger as you spun around on your heels and walked out the front door.

you could hear him shouting some profanities out of the open door, but you managed to block out his voice and instead focus on the sound of your shoes on pavement as you walked with your suitcase to wherever your feet would lead you.

you were completely done with his bullshit. coming home late claiming he was “working”, flirting with other girls when you two were out shopping, and, just like this night, leaving you stranded at some restaurant for some other chick. it wasn’t even the first time he’s done that. you were ready to leave him before this day had even started; you had spent a few days secretly putting all of your possessions into your handy suitcase, only putting away a couple things at a time so he wouldn’t notice the lack of your items in the house.

before you knew it, you were standing in front of a bar that you used to always go to with one of your dearest friends. “maybe he still comes here.” you thought as you made your way through the bar door and straight to a small booth in the far corner of the building. the same small booth that your friend and yourself had always sat at when you both would come here.

his name was james page, which he preferred jimmy, but you just used james instead to pick some fun at him. the two of you were the closest of friends, ever since your childhood where you fell off of your bike and he ran over to check to see if you were okay. he even went with you to your house just to make sure that you weren’t hurt. even as you both had gotten older, you would both help each other out with homework, watch movies together, and he even taught you some guitar chords and tricks.

the downfall of your friendship happened a while after he joined one of his first bands; the yardbirds. he would always be traveling, performing at different concert venues around the country, and even the world. at first you would just call him or he would call you on these tours, which worked well for awhile, until he got so busy with the band that he didn’t have any time to return your many missed calls.

you missed him dearly, thinking of him from time to time during the day. you often wondered what he was doing at the time when you thought of him, whether it was playing his guitar or just relaxing at wherever he may call home.

you stood up to go grab a beer, hoping to wash your thoughts away, when a very familiar sound reached your ears. it was his laughter. the same sweet laughter you grew fond of whenever you’d be around him. you didn’t know how much you longed to hear that sound again until that very moment, it almost held you in a trance until the beautiful sound melted away and the song that the jukebox was playing had replaced it.

“i was probably just imagining it.” you thought. running a hand through your hair to try and focus back on reality, you continued to the bar, a fairly large opening right in front of you that you could get to quickly. when you reached the bar, you heard a familiar voice say, “(y/n)! long time no see!” you looked up to see the bartender, florence. she has been the same bartender since you and jimmy started coming to this bar, usually just to hang out and talk about different things. you were still surprised that she still worked here, she’s not as young as she used to be, but you were glad that she was here and not some other new bartender.

“hey flo! how’s everything been recently?” you smiled lightly, not really in the mood to talk a lot, but willing to make small conversation with your old friend. “quite good dear! it’s been boring without yourself and jimmy constantly making a ruckus in here though, i kind of miss having to tell the manager about how you two broke the jukebox again!” florence joked, causing you to let out a small laugh. “yeah, those were the good old days, weren’t they?” she smiled. “they really were. anyway! how about a drink for you aye?”

“whiskey. any kind will do.” you replied, which flo nodded and went off to get your drink, coming back in record time with a glass about half way filled with the golden-brown alcohol. you smiled and said a quick “thank you” and carefully took the glass, bidding flo a farewell and she returning it.

you walked back over to your seat, the chat with florence clearing your mind of the earlier events and bringing your mood up a bit. she always had that effect on people, making them crack even a slight smile when they’re feeling blue. right as you were about to sit down, the voice that you never thought you’d hear again called out, “(y/n)? is that you?”

you set your glass down, mentally preparing to see him for the first time in a long, long time. holding your breath, you turn around and see him, the jimmy page, your old best friend. “james?” his hair was longer, barely reaching to his shoulder, and it was slicked back slightly, showing his beautiful green eyes. his smile was still the same, and you swore your heart did a backflip when he smiled at you and said “oh (y/n) i knew it was you! i couldn’t miss that gorgeous hair of yours anywhere.”

you were pretty sure that your face was bright red as you smiled bashfully. “oh thank you jim. and i see you grew yours out hm?” he chuckled, running his hand through his hair softly and said “yeah, i just thought why the hell not you know?” “mhm! i like it a lot, it suits you.” you said back, nudging his shoulder with your knuckle.

he grins and mumbles a quick “thanks”. he then looks back up at you and says “wanna sit and chat for awhile? catch up on all the times we missed?” you nod, motioning for him to sit at the opposite side of where your drink is, and he sat, you following his actions and sitting down as well. you grabbed your glass of whiskey and took a long sip of it, leaving only a small amount left in the bottom of the cup. jimmy’s eyes followed your hand as you set it back on the table, then his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“is everything alright? i haven’t seen you drink like that in, well, i’ve never seen you drink like that.” you sighed, drawing your finger around the rim of the cup gently. “if i’m being honest, no. a year after we, y’know, stopped talking, i found a guy and we got along quite well and started dating.” you noticed jimmy’s hand clenched into a fist, so you continued.

“everything was fine between us, until recently. he started going after other girls, even with me around him. he even asked me on a date just so i would stay, because i told him that if he doesn’t get his shit together then i’m just going to leave. we were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but of course he didn’t show up even when he’s the one who wanted me to go with him and not the other way around. so i went back to our former shared house and found him fucking some random chick that i’ve seen him flirt with before.” you stared at your drink, before grabbing it and finishing it off. as soon as you set the glass back, jimmy’s hand softly reached for yours and held it, caressing his thumb over your knuckles.

you rose your eyes up to meet jimmy’s, his eyes holding a soft, caring look, the same look that you’ve longed to see for many years. “it’s fine though, really. it’s not like i really loved him anyway..” you lied, thinking of when you first met chris, how happy he made you. but you realized that a certain someone, perhaps the someone sitting across from you, had made you happier than chris could’ve.

“(y/n) love, your lying eyes really give away that you did love him at one point, and it’ll take a while to try and un-love him, trust me.” a soft hand came in contact with your cheek, gently wiping a stray tear away that you didn’t notice had fallen. looking back up at jimmy, you smiled at him and brought your hand that wasn’t occupied and rested it against his. “i know jimmy, but i think i’ve already moved on from that asshole.”

his eyes flashed with a glimmer of hope, and he softly nodded, a small smile painting his face. he paused, then cautiously asked; “i know we’ve only talked for a few minutes, and you can refuse this offer, but how about we ditch this bar and go somewhere else?” you brought jimmy’s hand down to rest on the table, holding them both with your warm hands and nodded. “yeah, i’d like that.” he stood up from the seat, pulling you up with him.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

tag list: @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @asetcrowley @reincarnated70sbaby @thebeatlesuniverse @princesspagey @jonesyjonesyjonesy

[shadowfae]

hiii! so a friend directed me here and i was wondering if u cld share abt how you found out you were godkin? only if youre comfy! because ive kinda had like. how do i word this. Vibes or Feels that kinda direct me towards the whole i might be a god of sorts kinda thing ? if you have resources and dont mind helping,, please direct me to them :D ~ @missing-crown

I want to start this essay off by saying flat out: wars have been fought, genocides have been committed, and empires have risen and fallen trying to answer the simple questions of “What is deification, and how do we incarnate and control it?”.

If you do not think you’re up the challenge of answering that question for yourself, even with years of study and slow training to take up the mantle of literally being the most powerful form of the Chosen One trope, then you’re probably in the wrong place. I say this as someone who is deific down to the blood and bone, as someone who has looked for other gods, and largely found very little in the way of anyone who understands anything like my experience. In this way, I am utterly alone, and I detest it, but if me penning these words gives someone else the gospel they need to explain themselves in a way I recognize as kin and kind, then I will do it.

But before I truly get into it, I will very nicely ask you to swing down to your local bookstore or library, pick up a copy of Seanan McGuire’s Middlegame, and take a walk down the improbable road with Roger and Dodger. The differences between you and I and the twins of the Doctrine of Ethos are simple and threefold: we cannot manifest, we are forbidden to use our powers the way they can use theirs, and there are (hopefully) no secret alchemist cults trying to murder us when we don’t play nice with their fucked-up science experiment.

Roger and Dodger are gods, true gods, gods I recognize in myself and in the godkin I have met who have spoken about themselves enough for me to understand that we are indeed talking about the same thing. Disappontingly, I see minor spirits far too often misunderstanding the nature of deification, or at least, understanding a version of it which is fundamentally antithetical to my experience. They may be deific; but either they suck at illustrating their point, or I am something far beyond deific, and I am again alone.

With that introduction, I need to talk about three things in order to answer your question. Two methods of deification and three definitions of ‘god’ in a hierarchy that only exists because humanity has not yet perfected their understanding of what is fundamentally and always beyond them. Two kinds of gods, honest gods, that split the difference between deific, divine, and legendary. Once you understand that, I can talk about godkin, and what it’s like to be me, and maybe by the end of it you will either recognize yourself in this, or run away screaming as most mortals will do.

The first method of deification is what I will call the incarnate gods- Roger and Dodger are good examples, so are most Legendary Pokémon, and Kaname Madoka from PMMM. They are laws of nature, concepts of creation, and calculations of cosmic proportions that also occasionally exist as people when they design to do so. They are not meant to be people, they are bad at it, I do not recommend being mortal and fucking around with them. You will simply die. I would not fuck with them outside of my own world that I created, where I get to be a form of incarnate god. You cannot overpower them: they ARE the rule, and they will change it if they need to. You can’t ruleslawyer gravity like a 2007 troll physics comic. An incarnate god of gravity will simply turn reality on its head and cause you to implode. If you are this type of god, I cannot help you. My understanding of them comes from being an Absol, and little more.

The second type are gods of domain and prowess: Zamorak (from RuneScape), Akemi Homura in both her awakened Witch and Devil forms (from PMMM), and yours truly. Quite a few of us, although not all of us, were originally mortal. Mortals amped up on so much power we are no longer bound by mortal laws. There is a difference between deification and simply stopping your clock to gain immortality. Mortal magic and deific magic are fundamentally different. Down to, I would argue, the atomic structure. Deific magic is pure in a way mortal magic could never be. To give a mortal more than a drop of deific magic heavily diffused in something safer and more understandable would be to quite literally burn them to ashes. Or rend them into a different, unspeakable form. Or turn them into living topiary. We are nothing if not unpredictable.

It’s the difference between a handful of dirt and pure neutron soup. Usually, in order to become a god like this, it requires the intervention of an incarnate god in some form. In Zamorak’s case, it was several Elder Artifacts and falling almost facefirst into halfway incarnating himself into the law of entropy. In Homura’s (at least in canon PMMM), she fucked with the laws of consequence and time to the point where she became the only expert they had on either of those and both laws decided to simply incarnate into her, and then she used that to cause problems. For me, it was having my entire magical and physical structure reorganized and rebuilt by an incarnate god of malevolent energy, and then I used what was a watered-down copy of the Devil of Devils’ glory to weave my own world into being where I was more or less the absolute arbiter of the laws of reality.

In PMMM Rebellion, when Homura fights Kyubey in that pretty lace dress of hers, that is approximately the magical prowess an awakened god of our capability will show casually. She has complete control over her domain (her labyrinth) and the reality of it, it takes no more than a glance or a thought to almost entirely reshuffle it. Her minions, who are little more than vaguely autonomous thoughts given some power of their own, may break that reality in whatever means necessary so long as it is to fulfill Homura’s current motives. Her domain falls apart when she does, and she is not separate from it; it is a consequence of her existence. Asking what came first, the god or their domain, is a simple chicken and egg question. It’s usually the domain, in our case; in the case of incarnate gods it’s a philosophical shrug and a nice headache.

You’ll notice I said awakened: that is because Zamorak is a great example of a god who isn’t entirely awakened. In canon, that is - the one I work with is awakened enough to fuck with his domain, which is what makes him quite useful to work with, although I do wonder what he’s getting out of me if not magical theory and utter adoration. Zamorak in canon is a god who ascribes himself to the philosophy of chaos and personal strife, completely unaware that he is incarnate enough not to change the law of entropy but to suggest things to it. He’s a god of chance masquerading as a god of personal improvement, and once he figures that out (and passes that knowledge onto Armadyl, who is his true light counterpart), he’s going to change the very way magic works. Guthix did everything in his power to try and become incarnate. He failed. Zamorak did it entirely inadvertently, and that’s the trick: the nature of deification is to follow the domain and influence it to your will. When laws of existence become people, they will do as people will, and people typically have ambition. Gods who are also people got that way for a reason. They always have a motive for doing so. It’s never accidental.

So, with a slightly more informed understanding of deification, or at least the versions of it that I understand, I can talk to you about me. What it’s like in the here and now, and how I knew. It took me years to get to this point, and I’ve much the way to go. I know more than I did when I was questioning; deeply more so. I don’t expect anyone questioning to be as sure as I am, and in ten years I will be far more sure of entirely different things, and if I’m lucky, this as well. But, let us begin again.

To be deific is to wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a black hole. You are vast, and you are dense, and the moment someone touches the skin of your sternum they will be sucked in like a movie's portrayal of quicksand. To be so vast on the inside, surrounded by empty air and gentle white noise like the faint pull of gravity that does not touch you. To feel so powerful as to be untethered wholly from the world, aware that you will blink and be floating alone in a space that you cannot touch and so too cannot touch you. You blink, and it is gone, and you are again in a normal body as a normal person, and you roll over and go back to sleep.

To be deific is to watch the seasonal changes and feel flashes of worn leather rope between your hands and the maddened singsong of the Wild Hunt, chariot reins in your hands and baying hounds that feel like fingers, like wings, like extensions of yourself that can be shifted around with barely a thought. To feel halfway like a black hole walking down the street, halfway caved into yourself and barely contained, incapable of truly understanding how you can be so far apart from it all without anyone noticing that something is off.

To be deific is to be a fourteen-year-old girl in one moment, unable to understand what draws her so to the wilds if not the song of sympathy that she knows she can understand if she reaches a little farther, a little farther past the barrier that prevents any mortal, psychological mind from understanding the call. To play a pixelated game and have everything rush back. To relive millennia in a single sennight, to go from chipped to broken, utterly broken, as the power comes rushing back and the slow, dawning realization like the day that there is no controlling it. That there is no controlling you.

Millennia of sins come rushing back, and you're mortal again, and you know the only way to bring a god to their knees is to kill them. And if you were spared, if you were brought down without dying, then there was a reason. That someone must have thought you worthy of fixing it. That you should now spend the next several years coming to peace with being a Devil, the cruelest of the cruel, amending fences and repenting your sins.

To be deific is to realize, quite suddenly and without ever actually having the thought, that understanding things through a Christian lens is utterly bullshit and absolutely does not apply to you. Now, your duty is not to repent, or to fix, or to find any sort of salvation. You are the monster queen, the king of the damned, the Devil of a world you made with blood and tears and sweat and magic. To retake the crown, you have to accept yourself. Acceptance does not mean dwelling, or sorrow, or refusing to take the steps forward that will carry you to the crown and halo and horn of deification.

The powers feel less overwhelming as you grow into them. You don't forget the rage. You understand your close friend's words over and over, as the lesson teaches itself. How a Devil so much less powerful and yet so much older than you once looked you in the eye, drink in hand, and gently told you that a single mortal can bring down a Devil, if they try, and believe wholeheartedly in their quest. Do not disrespect mortality. It brings nothing but death.

You wonder briefly who brought you down. You decide, as the lessons prove themselves, that you don't actually care. You're the mortal now, and mortal legends die. Mortal legends change the song of sympathy and the rules of the deific. In order to return, you too must follow the only path a mortal can take to become deific.

To be godkin is to become deific with every step. It's not to seek the divine from outside of it. It's to become it again, and reclaim it; find what was inside all along and grow yourself around it, until it can no longer be pulled from you again without scattering your ashes and stardust among the cosmos, never to return.

To be godkin is to never forget the moments of pure rage that none but powerless fourteen-year-olds can manage. To be godkin is to be an adult with their memory pressed into your skin. To be godkin is for that rage to never truly leave you.

We stand up again and stare at the emotions that are awake when we are not. We wonder what it will take to manifest again, to only twitch a thought in any direction and reshape the reality around us. It is an extension of our being, and the less aware we are of it, the less effort it takes us to remake the world. It is the nature of deification, to change the laws of reality at our whim and will.

To be godkin is simply a matter of knowing that, and forever reaching to do that once more. If only to feel whole and vast, as we always have been.

[iwadori]

Hiiii can i request prompt 53 with tsukki? My annoying cousin u may know @chibiiichan(i cant tag her its a surprise) recommend ur account and well she never been right more than now I LIKE UR ACC TOO URM JUST TAG HER IN THE POST (bcs its actually her birthday next week monday so....the least i could do this bcs she likes tsukki and shes recently talk abt the iwazumi story of yours....lmao shes cringe but in the same time got mad n i was besides her hearing her whining like bruh 'its 1 am'...i know i should buy something for her but she got spoiled enough 💅...that mf-) thank you ✨

‘ALWAYS AND FOREVER’

TSUKISHIMA X READER

2K WORDS

GENRE: ANGST,FLUFF

TW: SLIGHT AMBIGIOUS MENTION OF SUICIDE/ASSISTED DEATH, AND DEATH, CURSING (IN MY A/N)

THIS IS FOR @chibiiichann Happy birthday, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS (BECAUSE I HATE IT :D ) SOOOOO YEAH I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR BIRTHDAY.

NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL. EXPECT SLIGHT MISTAKES

You were dying. You knew it. Your husband, Kei, knew it. Even friends you haven’t spoken too since high school knew it.

So why did you all pretend that everything was okay?

5 year old Y/N:

You were running around your neighbourhood park chasing after butterflies, without a care in the world. As you were frollicing in the grass, you manage to trip over a rock tumbling to the ground scraping your knee making it bleed. Looking down at your slightly injured knee, your lip begins to quiver which eventually leads to wails of tears streaming down your face.

“you don’t have to cry you know?” said a slightly quiet voice towering over you. Above you was a boy, quite tall with a fat pair of glasses, golden eyes and a head full of blonde locks.

“Well when I get hurt, I cry” you say matter oh factly (is that the phrase?) rubbing your nose as you sniffle. He held out a hand to you, which you immediately took shooting upwards and brushing yourself off.  

The boy, after looking at you wildly, turns around and walks back to the actual park. “Oi wait,” you call at the boy swiftly following him “aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“no.” he says simply, proceeding to walk ahead.

“well my names Y/N L/N pleasure to meet you,” you say jumping in front of him so he doesn’t move, waiting for him to tell you his name...which he doesn’t. “you don’t have to be so rude you know”  

“I’m not being rude” he says stiffly “ it’s just my brother says not to speak to strangers” a smirk appears on his face to say ‘you can leave me alone now.’  

As if on cue, his brother approaches the both of you given the boy a slap on the back making him cringe “Hey Kei, who’s the friend you’ve made here?”  

“My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here to be KEI’s best friend!” you said putting the emphasis on the word Kei after just learning that was the blondes name.  

Kei rolled his eyes and sighed saying “nii-chan can we go home now” he folded his arms in annoyance.

“No Kei, you’ve got to get to know your new found friend Y/N-Chan right?” his brother said teasingly, knowing it was the last thing Kei wanted to do.

“Yes ofcourse!” you say with a toothy grin, dragging Kei along with you to his demise.

Until the sun went down, you spent the rest of your time with Kei getting to know eachother (well him getting to know you more, since you did all the speaking.) Regardless of his previous annoyance in getting to know you in the first place, Kei would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know you now.

As the sun was setting, Kei’s older brother (who’s name you learned was Akiteru) called him to tell him he had to go home because dinner was ready. Before he left, you grabbed his hand and wrapped your pinky finger around his saying “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

back to present -  

In some odd way, this was Kei’s way of looking out for you. He knew what you had was uncurable and would weaken you even more as the days go by, so pretending like nothing was wrong seemed to be best in his eyes.  

Everything you and Kei did was a game or some nostalgic act that you once did when you were children. It was sweet to say the least, seeing Kei all engrossed and determined to make you happy.  

Your alarm rings snapping you out of you daydream, ‘it was time for medicine’ you thought with your face scowling at the thought. Immediately on time, as always, Kei comes In the room with all your medicine thats needed.

“Aren’t you my perfect little nurse Kei” you say teasingly giving him a wink, laughing as you see his face turn red.

“Do you have to do this every time y/n?” he asks rolling his eyes at your childish behaviour.

“Oh I'm just showing love to my best and favourite nurse” you continue laughing at your own words

“Im your only ‘nurse’” he deadpans giving you your medicine as you talk.

“Well that is more reason to make you the best nurse.” you say smiling.

Silence falls between you, and you stare down at your arm watching as your husband gives you the medicine making you frown. “Do we have to keep doing this?” you ask which is probably the 1000th time you’ve asked.

“Of course we do Y/N as I’ve said yesterday and the day before that and the day before that it-”

“But do we really?” you interrupt “I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you doubt me Y/N, I can do this forever” he says “ I can take care of you forever”

“But I don’t wan-”

“I’m finished, I’m going to start on dinner” he gets up and leaves the room yelling “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Sometimes you and Kei have these conversations. And all the time it ends the same way. You complain, he ignores and then you go and have dinner.

You can understand why he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Who would want to hear about their partners complaints about practically being alive. Kei was torn, ever since he met you all he wanted to was to keep you happy. But could he compromise his own happiness for it.

15 year old Y/N - flashback

“Kei Kei, aren’t you excited!” you yell smiling widley

“Excited for what?” he asks, amused by your enthusiasm “it’s just highschool.”

“Well it’s a new highschool! Karasuno high school, to be exact.”

“And that is still just a school.” he says

“Not just any! That’s the school nii-chan went too, and even tho he lie-”

“Let’s not talk about it Y/N” he murmurs “we should go now, don’t want to be late on our first date.”

Going to Karasuno was fun, at the start everyone was pleasant and nice. But after a week or two when you and Kei were still stuck to eachother like glue, people weren’t so pleasant. Kei was like a pop idol, being gorgeous and over 6ft at just the age of 15, caused alot of attention, especially when he was always around you.

At the start, the hate you got was bearable, it was the petty bitchy notes in your locker or just people blatanly talking badly about you infront of you. People didn’t do it when you weren’t around Kei, so when he had volleyball practice (which you were so excited that he joined the team) you were a big target for the bullies to come around.

Kei didn’t really know of the bullying that happened towards you, especially since he was mainly in practice or not around when it happened. But one day in practice he heard some of his teammates, kageyama and hinata who seemed to talking about a student in one of their classes that was always getting picked on by the other girls in the year.

“Yeah and I heard that Nana-san was planning on getting her and her friends to attack Y/N-san soon.”  said Hinata

“Shrimpy, who are they planning on attacking?” Kei asks to make sure he just heard the ginger correctly.

“Oh this lovely person in our class their name is Y/N-san” he says, looking at Kei’s reaction he also asks “Why? Do you know them?”  

Kei doesn’t respond, and immediately leaves the gym, ignoring Hinata’s and the other members of the teams yells of ‘Where are you going tsukishima.’ He didn’t care, he just had to get to you.  

He searched all the classes, asking every student if he knew where you were. Someone directs him to the toilets, where he burst through the door to see the other girls in your year surrounding you and beating you up.  

“What the fuck are you doing to them?” he yells startling the girls.

“T-T-Tsukishima-san" one girl says “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh fuck off” he says, with them still frozen in shock “I said go!”  

“And don’t think I don’t know your names either” he calls after them.

He rushes towards your bruised body on the ground and cradles you gently, confused on what to really do. “Oi Kei,” you say weakly catching his attention “I would’ve won if you didn’t come to stop the fight.” you joke making him scoff.

“Whatever you say Y/N.”

After you heal up, Kei already told on the girls that beat you up getting them suspended, and you explain how they were treating you because of their infatuation of him. And how they only did it when he wasn’t around.

Once he learns this information, he decides to quite the volleyball team, to your surprise. But you demands on making him not quit were ignored, as he excused it by saying “I have to make sure you’re always alright remember, and if that means quitting some volleyball team then so be it.”

That was one out of the many times that Kei put his happiness before yours.

Flashback over.

When you first got diagnosed, Kei was immediately researching on it as it was a very rare condition. But sadly, he only found what the doctor already told you both. It was uncurable and your immune system and your body will weaken as the days go by.

Which it did, you were a shell of your past self. It was always shocking for Kei to see, especially with you only being 25. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ but he never let you see his sadness.

Whenever you knew Kei was sad you always reminded him “Kei, I may be dying but please don’t cry over me” every time you said, there was a slight undertone of humour in your voice which always worked in boosting Kei’s spirit.

AN: IVE GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I HATE THIS SOOO IM SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE SHITTING RUSHED ENDING IM GOING TO PROVIDE FOR YOU LOL.

The days passed and the years went by, and you and Kei were still alive and kicking it. Doing your daily routine of you making some joke, Kei giving you your medicine and then you eating dinner. You eventually stopped complaining, realizing and remembering your promise you gave to Kei at 5 years old in that park. “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

Of course you had your rough days, everybody did and it was even harder being sick with a terminal illness. But having Kei to guide you through the storm made It better for you.

However, Kei isnt a miracle worker. He couldn’t save you, noone could. And you both knew that. That didn’t mean it made it any easier when the medicine stopped working and your pain got too hard to bear. Kei couldn’t watch you do this anymore, “the choice is yours” he said with tears in his eyes.  

So you knew what you had to do, you got in your bed pulling Kei with you, and letting him envelope you in a big hug as you both cried.

“I love you,” you say “You know that right?”

“Of course I know that, idiot” he replies “And I love you.”

“Always and forever?”

“Always and forever.”

AN: how did I END UP CRYING WHILST WRITING THIS WHEN IT MADE NO FUCKING SENSE, I WAS TRYING TO DO THIS COOL NOTEBOOK (I HAVENT EVEN WATCHED THE NOTEBOOK) ENDING WHERE ITS AMBIGIOUS AND SHIT AND I JUST GIVE UP OKAY? I APOLOGISE LOOOOOOL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY ATLEAST A SENTENCE OF THIS AT LEAST.

[ringneckedpheasant]

u got any trans anders headcanons? 👀

OH BOY DO I EVER.... i also just have a lot of thoughts abt medical transition in thedas.... please forgive me for turning this into an absolute essay lmao

i think it’s reasonable to think that even if they’re not commonplace, some form of hormonal treatments would be available—naturally derived estrogen has been used for quite literally thousands of years, and would at least be available for trans women like Maevaris. i haven’t been able to find much on the history of testosterone usage before like the 1800s, but i don’t think it’s that far-fetched to think that that’s a development that could’ve happened within anders’ lifetime or even before, especially since we’re talking about a world where like. magic is a thing and herbalism is widely practiced. Krem seems to indicate that there are magical methods of transition, though iirc it was implied to be through blood magic (that, or Krem has an aversion to any kind of magic being used on him)

as far as surgical procedures go i don’t think there would be much available? at least not for trans men, which is part of the reason i drew anders as not having had top surgery, but looking like he’d been on t. which i think he would be, though i don’t think he would’ve started until late into adulthood.

my thoughts abt like. the timeline of his life are always kind of nebulous and subject to change but i’ve been thinking a lot lately about the subject of his name. i don’t envision his parents as being particularly accepting, at least not his father. maybe part of the reason he never disclosed his name when sent to the circle was in the hopes that no one would find out what it was—even being called Anders, as weird and dehumanizing as it would’ve been, might’ve been preferable to being called his dead name. i think a lot about the way that Anders’ name changed when everything else in his life did, and that both of those things happened as a direct result of being rejected by his family.

when he was sent to the circle at 12 i think he could’ve reasonably passed as a boy without much effort, though it would’ve gotten harder as he got older if he didn’t have access to hormones. i think it’s safe to assume based on interactions with Krem that knowledge of trans people, and respect towards them, isn’t something that’s commonly found outside the Qun (and perhaps Rivain or Antiva—but certainly not in Fereldan, or Orlais, or the Free Marches. yes i am still mad about Sera’s transphobic dialogue if you bring her to the winter palace). Anders’ absolutely miserable transition to living in the circle probably would’ve been made worse by adults in charge not understanding or respecting him.

I like the idea of Karl being the first person to accept Anders without question, to try to help him find information about other people like him with the limited resources they would have in the circle. there’s not a lot of canon information about Karl’s life, but 1) i think he and Anders met fairly young, maybe as soon as Anders got to the circle and 2) maybe by chance, Karl knew someone else like Anders—a sibling, a friend, maybe an aunt or an uncle.

his time in the wardens may have been better than his time in the circle, wrt gender. my HoF is a mage, and i imagine that even if he didn’t remember anders particularly clearly, he would’ve been Aware of him—people gossip, especially, i imagine, when confined like that. my surana is a nice boy however and would’ve tried to ensure that no one in the wardens gave Anders any shit over being trans.

by the time he ends up in Kirkwall, i think he would pass fairly well. and while he is absolutely dirt poor, i think by this time he would’ve found the resources to start some kind of hrt. he probably wouldn’t have regular access to it, and just going off my own experiences, this would’ve been something that made transition a slow process. it’s filled with constantly feeling like he’s taking a step back whenever he goes off it, when his progress halts, when his period starts up again, when he’s subject to awful mood swings from unstable levels of hormones (i also think Anders is bipolar, and i imagine some aspects of that would be exacerbated by being Hormonal)

by the time he meets Hawke and the rest of them, i think he would’ve sort of plateaued—after years of HRT, even inconsistently, he would be able to pass as a man without much difficulty. some things, like facial hair, simply do not go away even if you stop taking t.

i Do, however, think that Fenris would clock him. in an ideal world this would be because he is t4t and like recognizes like, but even if that weren’t the case, I think Fenris would be the most likely out of any of them to know about trans people—I may be mistaken about the timeline here but I *think* that Maevaris would’ve come out before Fenris left Tevinter? Fenris likely had at least passing knowledge of her, maybe even met her while accompanying Danarius if she had assumed her father’s position as a magister. my understanding is that Mae is literally the first trans woman ever to have a seat in the magisterium, and that it was a Big Fucking Deal to a lot of people. it would make sense for Fenris to know about her. also!! fenris spent time on Seheron with the fog warriors and it seems extremely likely that he would’ve met people who were aqun-athlok while there.

my point with all of this is that 1) Fenris would likely know Anders was trans even if he himself wasn’t and 2) as much as they hate each other, I think there’s no way that Fenris would out him. he refuses to hand Anders over to the templars, and I think he would know how dangerous being outed to the wrong people would be. (my thoughts are of course heading in a fenders direction, and I’m thinking about Fenris disclosing to Anders that he knows, and their shared transness being the first step in realizing that they have more in common than they would otherwise think.... in learning to understand and empathize with one another... g-d.)

that is the extent of my serious thoughts about this for now, it took me a half an hour to type this up on my phone and i hope at least one person finds reading it worthwhile lmao

(less serious thought: Anders and Fenris should have t4t sex in the back of Anders’ clinic <3)

[zhuhongs]

Upon rereading tgcf, one of the biggest complaints I have is how lackluster all the extra chapters were. literally none of them were good and all contained rlly gross and harmful sentiments (like the amnesia one which.. yea.. or all the things implying xl should get pregnant for hc thus equating gay relationships with hetero ones and playing into the wife thing and just GOD I HATE MXTX) 

There were a lot of little plot points i wish that had been further elaborated on more in the extras as opposed to hualian being ... like that. I had enough. Like mdzs had actaully good extras (minus the incense burners) that were nice side stories that elaborated more on the characters. Like the hook one with the juniors was so cute and i loved seeing them grow more. Or the lotus pod extras omg.. im such a lotus pod extra stan. those were so cute and gave us a lot of good insight into just how lovestruck lwj was during the times when he didn’t see wwx. mxtx should've stuck to those sorta extras in tgcf but NOOO. SO I have a list of so many other more interesting things those chapters couldve been spent on like:

A resolution on He Xuan’s revenge and his character arc. Bc its implied He Xuan is still hanging out and watching over sqx and that taking revenge didn’t fully satisfy him bc ok.. yea shi wudu is dead but he xuans family will never come back. Now what does he have to live for?? i wish we couldve seen a look into his life during the entire ordeal. like a chapter from his perspective while he was posing as Ming Yi  and maybe a look at a conversation btw he xuan and the real ming yi or a chapter after SQX was banished to see what he’s doing now. Also what did he xuan owe hua cheng money for anyways?? Like ik not every little thing has to be explained but I Want to Know. PLEASE more goth boyfriend content now I just wanna see him :,((

a better resolution of yin yu and quan yizhens storyline. im still mad abt how that plot point was split btw books 3 and 5  when it was rlly out of place and  there were other more pressing plot matters and it just rlly deserved more time. Also i thought yin yu died!?!?!? but apparently one of the extras says he’s alive and man... i;m not reading any more of the extras to see that, give me a full yin yu and quan yizhen chapter.. fuck.

a day in the life of the guoshi fangxin or general hua PLEASE especially like one where hua cheng was SO CLOSE to meeting xie lian but had no clue that xie lian was there at the time but the two did smth that inadvertantly helped the other and they still were connected even though they hadnt met omg pls that’d be so nice. like imagine Hua cheng catching a glimpse of the guoshi in public in yong’an while he’s trying to follow some lead that points to xie lian or maybe following a lead to capture qi rong bc he said he knew qi rong was a part of the yong’an stuff and originally thought the guoshi was one of qi rongs pawns. like can you IMAGINE him getting so close. but at the last second he did smth small that impacted xie lian. like they bumped into eachother on the street or smth. god i’d go crazy

OR vice versa.. like a day in the life of the young ghost king hua cheng. Like again, one of my biggest issues was that hua cheng just knew everything and its never really explained how he got all of that info. like yes he’s been alive very long and has eyes and ppl working for him everywhere but like... how did he build that network?? I’d love to see a chapter of young ghost king hua cheng travelling around trying to learn as much as he can abt the world and how it can help bring him to xie lian. and the two maybe are in the same kingdom for a bit and they don’t meet exactly but hua cheng stops some fight or something and helps xie lian indirectly or maybe xie lian is performing on the street in some costume and hua cheng doesn’t recognize him and smiles and gives him a coin or smth. idk i’m just dying for any sorta extra chapter or fic like that. i’m honestly so tempted to write my own but i cant write

also!! we’ve seen how xie lian picks up people down on their luck near him and show them kindness (like banyue, lang ying, xiao ying, he tried to with san lang but we know how that ended lmao) so i’d love to see another little vignette of him doing that on his travels and how every person he meets teaches him smth about life and being a good person and idk, i just think it’d be rlly sweet. i love this facet of his character and feel like we didn’t see enough of it towards the end.

ALSO hua cheng only seems to respect one heavenly official besides xie lian and thats yushi huang.. i assume thats mostly bc she was the only one to help xie lian and let him use the rain master hat to bring water to yong’an. I was thinking maybe when he was a new supreme he had run into trouble and maybe was picked up by the rain master and helped him heal and in return he promised to help protect her village from harm in the future. Like i know a heavenly official wouldn’t cooperate with a ghost like that but yushi huang is different and doesn’t really care about the heavens so i think she would protect him if he could do something to benefit her village. ik this is kinda far fetched but when he first became a supreme I’m sure a bunch of ppl probably tried to mess with him and didn’t rlly believe him to be undefeatable bc he hadn’t proved himself yet also i doubt all his power came overnight. he had to learn how to use it once he escaped the kiln. and some group probably thought they could weaken him somehow. I’m thinking maybe a rlly well formed group of ghosts actually caught him off guard once and he had to retreat and was picked up by the rain master and stayed with her and learned from her a bit. i think it’d be a cool concept also i just rlly want more yushi huang content and i’m on their friendship agenda bc he rlly did seem to actually respect her when she first appeared and i think it’d be cool if the two had some history together.

Also idrc if this was addressed I couldve missed it But!! Did xie lian ever tell Hua cheng that the reason he got the curse shackles and was banished again in the first place wasnt bc jun wu wanted to punish him, but because he requested it. And specifically requested it bc he felt guilty abt letting wu ming take the human face disease and disperse for his sake. So he took the shackles and descended to atone for that?? Bc I dont recall hua cheng learning that bc his soul was already dispersed at that point so it didnt follow him and xie lian didnt say anything so uhhh... someone should tell hua cheng that. Like I dont think xie lian rlly said how much hua cheng meant to him and didnt show him he was loved in grand ways. Like xie lian did always care for bc in other ways but I think if hua cheng learned abt this on screen it wouldve been such a great moment and I'm rlly surprised mxtx didnt address this iirc!?!? Like imagine jun wu telling Hua cheng this in the kiln bc xie lian wouldnt say it himself. Imagine how cool that would be.

Also a small thing adding into the whole young ghost king Hua cheng stuff. Its implied and p much stated that hua cheng isnt his real name. That he likely doesnt have a real name bc his parents died? (It's not clear. I'm still mad at mxtx for not making his childhood clearer). So I'd like to see when and why hua cheng chose that name for himself. The new tgcf ending song kinda hints at its meaning with the lyrics "for you I'd fill a city of flowers" as xie lian is the flower wielding martial god so it's probably inspired by that. Also xie lian saved hua cheng from leaping off the city walls but I'd love to hear him say it bc the implication of his name didnt dawn on me for quite a bit and I dont know if everyone made the connection. Again I sure as hell didnt. So itd be cool to see a chapter that takes place in his past after just ascending as a supreme

Overall I rlly think tgcf had a lot more potential to be even better and a lot of that comes down to fleshing out the side characters and letting hualian have more of a storyline independent of one another. like i know the appeal and message of tgcf is that through love, people can overcome anything, but fuck man. i just wanna see what these two (mostly hua cheng) where like in the absence of each others presence. Part of what I really liked abt mdzs is that we got to see that longing develop btw wangxian when the two weren’t together and how they thought about each other and did things in thei others spirit bc they knew the other wouldve done the same thing. but whatever, mxtx was too consumed by her own unhealthy idea of what devotion and true love looks like but still. i rlly think the extras couldve helped the story be better rather than be fujoshi fuel that i try to bleach from my mind -_-

[edsbev]

when bev joins the losers, she hangs around bill and ben the most. mike is always nice to talk to, cheery and amicable, everything is kind of easy with him. stan is a little weird but he’s sweet and she likes hearing him talk passionately abt his birds. richie seems like the last person she would ever want to talk to, at first. but she works out pretty quickly that everything that comes out his mouth is just air. that you only have to peel back a layer or two to find the boy who shares his cigarettes with her, cracks a joke in her direction to cheer her up because he can sense when she’s sad. 

but she doesnt talk to eddie. its not that she doesnt want to, its just that eddie is always kind of attached to richie’s side, shrieking laughing at all of richie’s bad voices. or hovering around bill like an animated little fly. one time, she had found herself the target of one of eddie’s rants. they’d been in the clubhouse and he’d started to rant about how they needed to sand the wooden support beams because they could all get splinters if they didnt. and he was so caught up in it that he didn’t realise she was only one looking at him, listening to him, until he was finished. and once he realised, he had gone red, and turned away. 

so bev thinks that eddie doesnt want to talk to her. which kind of sucks, a lot. and she doesnt even know why it sucks so much. because he’s just like...a tiny little rude boy (and she laughs at herself when she thinks that but she doesnt know how else to describe him) just this tiny stressed kid with a surprisingly foul mouth. who likes playing loogie with richie and berating them all for not wearing sunscreen. but sometimes she thinks he’s like her. in what way, though, she doesnt know. its just, sometimes, when he thinks no one’s looking, she’ll see his face change. watch as it falls. he’ll look tired. he’ll look sad. and then one day he tells them all about his mother, his chest heaving, his expression all twisted up, and it all makes sense. and suddenly she’s never wanted to know someone so badly in her life. 

do you wanna hang out tomorrow? she finally musters up the courage to ask one day. just you and me? eddie has his face tilted up to at her, he’s so little, and there’s something so surprised about his expression that he almost looks scared. “oh, yeah, sure,” he says, words all stuttery and unsure. he nods with a little more confidence, “okay.” bev smiles at him. and that night she climbs up onto richie’s roof with richie and asks him, basically, what the hell she should talk to eddie about. because she wants eddie to like her, and one thing she knows about eddie is that he very much likes richie. so sue her. richie just laughs and tells her that eddie likes dirty jokes. and so she and richie brainstorm a bunch of jokes she can tell eddie tomorrow. even though bev knows that the dirty jokes that richie tells eddie have a 50/50 chance of being met with a beep beep, or laughter. 

and the next day she meets up with eddie at the aladdin. and she greets him almost immediately with a dirty joke, to break the ice, because he had looked nervous, shuffling feet, fidgety hands. and he laughs. not quite the shrieking laughter that only ever seems to come out around richie. but its genuine laughter nonetheless. and his smile stays on his face long after it. and bev thinks she has it figured out. she just has to be a little crude, maybe rant about some sort of health and safety codes, and eddie will like her. and they can open up to each other. but then, when she asks what he wants to do, eddie suggests that they go for a walk through the dog park, just a few streets away, because he likes petting the dogs. but then eddie offers to buy her ice cream for her when she comes up a few cents short (“dont worry about it,” he’d said, licking at his own ice cream, placing his change into her hand with his sticky fingers. “i have a lot of change. i stole it from ma.”) but then eddie points out a funny looking car on the street and excitedly tells her that he’s always wanted a car like that, talks to her passionately about cars in general until he realises what he’s doing and cuts himself off, looking bashful, until she nudges him to continue. and he smiles at her brightly and he does. 

but then eddie is this sweet, gentle kid, amongst being his usual Little Stressed Rude Boy self and she realises that she just really fucking likes him. its not just that their lives are so similar, two shades of the same colour. even though that definitely leaves a sort of sense of mutual understanding between them. she just likes being around him. unfortunately, it seems like it takes eddie a little longer to warm up to her to the same extent she’s warmed up to him. he tells her later, once theyre really close, that he had actually been a little intimidated by her. (”i thought you were so cool,” he says. “you don’t think i’m cool now?” bev asks. eddie grins. “nah. i think youre a nerd.” and bev laughs, because thats fair enough, but also a little bit rich coming from the kid wearing a calculator watch).

but they do become close. bev opens up to eddie about her dad one night, when its just the two of them in clubhouse. everyone else has gone home. he’s sitting in the hammock. and he looks at her with that same expression, when she starts talking. the one where he’s so surprised he looks scared. but then his expression softens. and he looks sympathetic. he looks sad. he looks angry. and when she’s done, the first thing eddie says is “i hate your dad” with a little sad smile. “he sucks.” and it makes her laugh a little. he’s the first person shes ever told all of this to, but she thinks she already prefers that reply to every other reply she’s going to get. she says, in reply, “i hate your mom. she sucks.” and eddie’s face scrunches up for a second, like he’s going to defend her. but he ends up laughing too. and then theyre both laughing. like their lives are the world’s best joke. “our parents suck,” eddie says, his laughter still all over his face. and the way he says that - “our parents” - has bev imagining, for a moment, that they share the same parents. that theyre a pair of lost siblings who have found each other. who are going through the same thing. it feels that way. “they do,” she says. “wanna get new parents?” and eddie smiles and says “how about no parents? then we dont have to have a bedtime.” bev replies, “i like your thinking.” and eddies smile stretches even wider, like he’s glad she likes his idea, before he says, eyes lighting up as he’s hit with a thought, “hey, can you teach me that around the world yo-yo trick you were doing before?” which is the first time hes ever initiated that they do something together. like he figures they’re bonded now. and then eddie’s one of her best friends in the whole world.

(“you ever just want to love and protect eddie with your whole life?” bev asks richie later that night, while theyre smoking up on his roof again. richie lays back, his voice half muffled by his cigarette. “yeah,” he says, without missing a beat. bev feels all giddy and excited. she had spent an hour with eddie in the clubhouse, teaching him yo-yo tricks. and when he had to leave, he’d asked if she wanted to ride home with him. “i feel like we were family in another life,” bev continues to richie. and richie snorts. “what, like he was your husband or something?” he asks, and that thought almost makes bev recoil “no. like we were related,” she says. like she was his sister or his mother or his aunt or his cousin. richie blows out smoke through his lips. “oh,” he says, “guess our similarities end there.” and bev laughs. she’d figured). 

[luobingmeis]

I think Undyne's determination has less to do with like something that happened in the past and more like the overlap between determination as an actual physical thing VS a spiritual thing. Whereas the amalgamates were injected with determination by Alphys, Undyne makes her OWN. You've killed her best friend. You're going to kill the love of her life. You're going to kill her mentor. You're going to kill everyone. You've killed HER. But she still has to stop you. Everyone is counting on her 1/2

Undyne's whole motif is letting the monsters of the Underground achieve their hopes and dreams. Theres a reason she is the boss fight in Waterfall, the most backstory rich area in the game. Hope and dreams have just as much weight as determination does, its what helps you defeat Asriel. And Undyne the Undying's design mimics Asriel's because in Genocide SHE is the heroine, SHE is the determined hero that defies death in order to save everyone she loves via the hopes and dreams of everyone (2/2)

Sorry I just really fucking love Undyne Undertale fhfhfndkdk she willingly letting herself be used in an experiment to help her people is Very Good tho too hmmmm

!!!!

sorry ur abt to get a whole essay i love undertale so much.........

(also i use a lot of !!! for emphasis, not bc i’m yelling omg)

(also i’m letting you know this is an incoherent mess, it is 2am here akjsdkjsdjk)

but you can definitely be right!!!! tbh your idea seems much more par for the course than the spaghetti im throwing at the wall

even then, though, it’s stll so interesting bc like!!!! undyne’s courage is undeniable, and her fight to protect the underground plays Such a huge role in her whole waterfall arc. and, in the spiritual sense, she is absolutely determined!! that just makes me WONDER though bc, like, canonically, monsters Are Not determined! they don’t have that threshold!

and then, in looking at determination in the spiritual sense, what exactly makes undyne different? is it that her desire to live and protect the underground unlocks that threshold needed for determination? at one point, could monsters be determined, but then their millennia trapped underground biologically/psychologically stripped them of that? so then could any monster in the underground, when facing high enough stakes, have that determination? or is it just undyne?

bc then i think about the other bosses in either route, like papyrus, mettaton, asgore, sans. where undyne is the monster/boss capable of possessing determination, sans is probably the one least likely to have any threshold for determination (this is bc his entire boss fight is him realizing he can no longer be an observer, he is literally the last line of defense between chara and the annihilation of all monsters). mettaton is complicated bc as a napstablook turned corporeal, i dont even know where to BEGIN with him. but then there’s papyrus and!! it feels like he should be capable of feeling determined. in both the pacifist and genocide route, he is so assured that the human has some internal goodness. while, in the genocide route, that hope could be translated to fear, that still makes me wonder: under what circumstances could a monster’s determination be unlocked? is it not solely life or death? does it require some ulterior motives (aka undyne’s whole character being protecting the underground)? and like!!! it’s just so fun to think about bc, say it is undyne’s spiritual determination being unlocked, it’s so interesting that she’s the one differentiated!! that even papyrus, a character brimming with good and happiness and love, doesn’t have that determination, but undyne, who has a similar type of passion and goodness within her, does!!!

with experiment undyne, i will admit my theory is very much uhh wild! and unhinged! and, while my theory is much more playing in the “what if’s” of the science of artificial determination, it still makes me wonder! especially in the boss fight herself. ever since i first saw her genocide boss fight, i’ve always been a bit fixated on her eye, specifically the one w/ the eye-patch that eventually seems to have Some type of arrow power. while this definitely could have just been A Design Choice (and one i stand by!!), undertale is a game that reveals its complete lore when the pacifist and genocide route are put together. thus, in a hypothetical situation, i don’t think it would be out of the question that undyne’s eye could still Do that even in a pacifist route.

but even then, there are holes to poke! such as why doesn’t she use it? if undyne has been injected with artificial determination, why is she, frankly, normal until it’s a matter of life and death?

(to cut to the punchline before i get into my bullshit: i think it’s bc, at first, it seemed as if the artificial determination just Didn’t Work and had no affect, when in reality it needed to be met with spiritual determination as well)

and, again, i know i’m playing with a lot of hypotheticals right now, and mostly this is me just kinda fun bullshit theorizing, but i think it could have something to do with the fact that she has the threshold for spiritual determination! the reason i even think that she would offer herself up to determination experimentation is bc of the loyalty and love she has for asgore and the underground. i would argue that she is just as invested in asgore’s plan as asgore himself is, and she obviously sees him as some type of father-figure. so that alone gives her this Drive to do whatever it takes for the underground to survive.

so, therefore, i think in regards to this hypothetical experiment undyne, i think it quite literally is that spiritual determination threshold combined with artificial determination

and for that, i quickly want to talk abt the amalgamates and why they tie into this:

the timeline: corpses/souls injected with determination --> no reaction --> corpses wake up and act normal --> ??? happens  --> (quickly leads to) amalgamates

and so then that once again raises the question: what differentiates undyne? 

i think, for that, we then have to consider another question: if most monsters do not have the physical determination to continue living after death, can that determination be given when they’re already dead? monsters in general already have no threshold for determination, so can that be artificially made if it never existed in the first place? 

bc while alphys’s experiment, iirc, was to see what happened when a soul was injected with determination, i think the other much needed question is if monster souls could even Handle determination

and, while we do not know specifically what went wrong with the amalgamates (aka like How did they melt together), we do know that their physical forms really were not able to handle the artificial determination, imo most likely bc they do not even have a threshold for spiritual determination

but undyne is, as you have noted, different!

so, frankly, i think you’re right! i think undyne does have an inherent spiritual determination. it’s uncommon in monsters, but her want to save the world is enough to leave her determined

however, i think That would have just been enough to keep her alive

i think it’s artificial determination that gave her that final form! to reference  back to the amalgamates, they were all creatures whose powers we had seen before, but different now and, specifically, more powerful. that very same thing could be said for undyne! her powers are, essentially, things we have seen before, but fucking to Max Intensity 

AND THEN!! AND THEN!!!!!

when you do kill heroine undyne, she doesn’t turn to dust first

she melts first, and then turns to dust!!!!!

and, honestly, it’s that small detail that sent me down this rabbit hole, bc the only ever time we’ve seen monsters melted together are the amalgamates!

i think the main difference between heroine undyne and the amalgamates is the fact that undyne, at first, had No Reaction to the determination at first bc, since she most likely already had this secret threshold for spiritual determination, it wasn’t the Biggest of changes. it wouldn’t have had such a drastic reaction on her physical form bc, even if she didn’t know it yet, it wasn’t an entirely foreign substance

the amalgamates, however, aka monsters who had no spiritual determination, could only handle the artificial determination for an unknown amount of time before their bodies began rejecting the chemicals and becoming..... that

of course, then, this leaves me with even more questions, such as could undyne sustain this final form? would her body eventually give out, overcome by determination? was this form only meant for life or death situations?

and uhhh i think this is the end!! if you made it this far and are thinking to urself “damn you’re really an english major when you write like this?? this isn’t even comprehensible” do not fret!! i know this theory is kinda a shitshow, and it’s one of those things where i can keep myself up all night thinking abt this and talking myself in circles bc there are some points that i think have strengths and other points that are probably pretty weak

basically though!! i see the connection between artificial determination and undyne through the fact that her form actually changes, the reveal of her legit power eye, the way her attacks have been altered, and the fact that she melts at the end (akin to the amalgamates’ appearances) before poofing into dust

this has been,,,, a shitshow i am so sorry i hope this was at least somewhat understandable ajkdsjkdsjk

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

pls scream about Leo a lil bit cause my love for that man is neverending and i live for you guys' blog,,, and ur comte love fuels me??? head empty except for those two pureblood clowns

HNGNGNG I hope that both you and everyone that reads my shenanigans knows how utterly understood I feel when I see anyone stan Comte, if not both of those idiot purebloods bc good lord...I live for two tired fossil men that just want DOMESTIC BLISS. Literally they have no brain cells beyond respect women and we love that for us, it’s spectacular!!

Under a cut bc I went off and is long:

That being said I’d be happy to yell abt Leo!! Where do I even begin, this man was the reason I got into Ikevamp in the first place, and I’ve read just about every single one of his events at this point. He just makes me so TENDER!!!!!! For whatever reason the first thing that came to mind was this one time he lies about being jealous and MC is lolol u a fool if you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. And he’s so fuckiNG SHOOK?????? It’s even funnier because she’s internally like [I’m not 100% sure but for a second there he almost looked mad...time to test this theory even if it’s just A GAME T H E O R Y] And he’s so fucking pikachu meme that shit sends me. I can’t handle the fact that he’s so used to people just assuming he’s fine, that he can handle himself. That he’s lived for so long without really anyone noticing at all. (Comte absolutely notices and will lightly roast him, but doesn’t really push him about it or wants to overstep). And so when MC just actively pays attention and is so gentle with him he’s just floored???

God I’m crying now, but I will just never forget the funeral scene in his fucking rt. This asshole, this absolute moron, straight up tries to come at us with “yOu GeT uSeD tO iT aFtEr HaLf A mIlLeNiUm, i’M nOt SaD”. Like are you serious. Come here and let me hold you before I throttle you. Absolute clown. He’s just always trying so hard to get by on his own and it breaks my heart. How long...how long has he lived just getting by, nursing his own wounds and dragging himself up all by himself. HE LEFT HOME AT LIKE 14 (whatever the fuCK SOME TOO YOUNG AGE) AND RAN STRAIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF PEOPLE THAT HATED HIM FOR HIS TALENT. HE REMEMBERS HIS MENTORS DESTROYING HIS UTENSILS WHILE TRYING TO ESCAPE PARENTS THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECTED ANY EXPRESSION OF LOVE OR COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY THAT HE CHERISHED SO DEEPLY. I DON’T NEED SLEEP I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY FUCKING HELL.

Like.........there’s just........I don’t know how to explain it, but I once saw it explained so well in a post. It was basically talking about Castlevania, and how in that show Dracula sees humanity’s folly and develops so much hatred he just goes straight to murder rage. And while in some ways I understand that, I understand even more deeply Trevor’s response to humanity’s fear and violence. He says that he knows they’re short-sighted, that maybe we all just don’t deserve saving...but that he’s going to do it anyway. Leonardo just so much gives me that energy of knowing there’s so much pain in the world, but all we can do is keep walking--keep trying, even if we have to claw our way forward. Because if you only see the awfulness in front of you, you forget the way that strangers make silly faces at babies to make them laugh on the train, how a friend will put everything down to race over to someone and comfort them with some ice cream--do anything they can to distract them from the hurt. How the sight of a child crying will prompt careful cooing from a stranger as to their bravery, an offering of cool water, the gentle placement of a bandaid. How a pair of teenagers will spot a lost child in milliseconds and help them seek out their parents protectively. There is so much wretchedness, but also so much beauty in it all, and the older I get the more I see myself wanting to believe in the latter. I want to be hopeful, and easily impressed, and full of love. To be bitter and jaded accomplishes nothing, and only becomes a worsening self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you seek negativity, the more you will find it; and worse, create it.

I also scream a little bit bc like. I’ve gone on and on about how Comte is very obviously in love with MC all the time, and sure that may be true. But...I really don’t think Leo is exempt from that either if I’m honest lmfao. Only because what does Leonardo do when it isn’t his route? He almost never shows up. Once in a while he might appear for a split second in a scene, but he almost never converses with MC beyond those short moments. While Comte is the one to pine openly, I’d wager Leo is the opposite. He pines in absolute silence, because he knows that if he gets any closer--he’s going to fall. He’s going to enjoy it too much, going to keep seeking out more before he can stop himself. And losing another person he loves...he just can’t do it anymore. In his first meeting story he talks about seeing MC’s eyes and feeling like he’d known them all his life, and even in his MS he speaks to just being completely fascinated by and enamored of her. She doesn’t hesitate, always does her best, meets people head-on and without much hesitation. After a lifetime of people that are probably just immediately interested in him for his talents, or always seeking out his company for the novelty, this is someone that doesn’t give a single fuck if he’s Leonardo da Vinci. Sure she’s aware, and sure she’s impressed to some extent, but her respect--her attraction and admiration--is something that has to be earned. 

There’s something so refreshing about how their love was written. Sure it’s the whole fake marriage to a real relationship, but it’s also a kind of subtle enemies to lovers pulled off masterfully. MC is 100% minding her own business, just wants to do what she must in order to get home, tries to focus on her work to keep from thinking about how much she misses her old life. She doesn’t rely on anyone, doesn’t talk about how hard it is or how scary it is or how confusing. And even Leonardo forgets in his curiosity, is just chillin and also just trying to do the bare minimum to keep from getting too attached--figures he can admire her from a distance. And then he sees her staring at the hourglass. And suddenly, he can’t just watch her do that herself. Just wait for the hard times to pass, just sit with her own loneliness--that hollowing silence. There’s something so moving about it because he reaches out precisely because he knows that feeling to his fucking marrow, and literally just cannot watch somebody else do that to themselves. Sure he’s been dealing with it for three hundred years, BUT THIS GOOD BABIE CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. SHE WORKS HARD AND DESERVES NICE THINGS!!!!!!!! And so he drives her crazy as he races ahead of her, intercepting any attempt for her to preserve that silence and hide. She doesn’t see any pattern to it, and that’s just how he likes it--he doesn’t want her to worry about the how or why. 

Like I fully remembering playing in Japanese and being like oh my fucking god this is hilarious, this man is just a wild fucker and I love this. I was enjoying myself, mostly laughing and shaking my head. But then it just gets so, so serious. I was having so much fun that I, like a fool, forgot the anime effect. If you’re having fun, it’s going to come crashing down without mercy soon enough. And it does. He helps a little girl without any hope play her violin again, and maybe I’m just too English major but I was fucking FLOORED when I realized I didn’t see that that was straight foreshadowing. That little girl without hope? That was MC (and by extension depending on how you play, us). Though the metaphor isn’t quite so easily mapped without a physical space, the connection is clear when you think about it. With his careful social awareness, he makes a place for MC to exist in the mansion so naturally--as though she was meant to be there from the start, crafts a positive impression of her presence with each of the residents. And he does it with zero expectation of anything in return; he’s just happy to see her not stressing herself out anymore or trying to do everything alone. MC doesn’t fall in love with him despite their differences, she falls in love with him because they are the same in a singular and all-encompassing way that matters; they both care about other people so deeply, to the point where they will forego any personal needs in order to make that person’s life easier. Whether it be muting their own hardship, or working to involve another person in a new space (or opening up to the point of self-destruction to keep a person from feeling alone), they go above and beyond what anybody asks of them--perhaps strong to the point of their own detriment, in some cases. 

It’s why I always laugh when he says to Sebastian “That cara mia, she has a good heart.” Of course she does, Leonardo; it certainly takes one to know one. 

And because I literally have no brain cells beyond being in fucking love with Leonardo THE LAKE SCENE IS AN AFFRONT TO MY DIGNITY AND SELF-CONTROL. HOW DARE YOU, SIGNORE. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME TO SIT THERE AND WATCH YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO ME AND NOT BAWL MY EYES OUT AND TRY TO KISS YOU ALL AT THE SAME TIME. SIGNORE “hAhA yOu’Re So SmAlL yOu LoOk LiKe YoU’rE DrOwNiNg In My CoAt.” I WOULD DROWN AND DIE HAPPY--BITCH I TELL YOU THAT.

Like. I can’t think of another route I’ve ever done where I spent a good amount of time like “lmfao this guy is so wild im gonna punch him” to just be in a whirlpool of my own tears, regretting my entire fucking LIFE days later. Like Leonardo’s cultural impact???? Fucking immeasurable, I wish every white man disaster I ever met had a hidden heart of gold in all of his boyish dumbassery, an ICONIC himbo of our time. 

Also because I remembered it before posting and I am Dying^TM. The event where MC was a pureblood and he was human. That entire fucking event. I literally can’t think about it without screaming and crying. Her just so flustered at his reaction to her like “oh look, free real estate” as he plops her in his lap, absolutely no fear, treating her like a princess because of her noble title despite NO NECESSITY BEYOND PLAYFULNESS BUT ALSO STILL MEANING IT IN AN EARNEST WAY, being charming to no END just to see her laugh or look away shyly. 

WHEN HE SAID. WHEN HE SAID “...Can’t leave you alone, or you might go off someplace I can’t follow.” I. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU STRIPPED DEVOTION DOWN TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS!!!!!! GAH HOW MC HERSELF SAYS “I would tell him the truth but...he’s much too generous for a human. I know he would offer his life without a moment’s hesitation.” How Leo describes the aftermath of her biting him: “Lucky for you, I’m a true gentleman, Unlike my principessa, who took me like a storm” HELLO??????? H E L  L O ???????????????????????? ARE WE JUST GOING TO SLEEP ON THE FACT THAT HE LOST HIS ENTIRE SOUL WHEN SHE BIT HIM???? I--

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

(Also as much as I love him the cigarillos have got to go at some point, boy do you have any idea the shit secondhand smoke does good lordt)