#and we also see a flashback of them all in university

[stoat-party]

Every Fallout 4 Companion’s Approximate Birth Year (Part 3/3)

CVRIE — 2076

I assume Miss Nannies went out of production when the world exploded.

Codsworth — 2077

His box is still in your house during the prologue.

He also mentions enjoying the “months” he’s spent with you, though he might mean since Shaun was born.

Nick — 2175

We know it was over a century ago, but it can’t have been too far prior to the Gen 3 rollout around 2227.

I think Nick is the older brother, because it makes sense to start by creating a synth with stored personalities before trying to make one that develops a personality autonomously.

Longfellow — 2223

This man is only in his SIXTIES, they are LYING TO YOU

The Children of Atom were full-fledged on the Island when Longfellow was young. Confessor Cromwell is the one who sent them to Maine.

But he couldn’t have become Confessor until the mid-2250s, because he’s only FORTY-FOUR in Fallout 3, and he had a background as a trader before that! AND there still had to be time for the Children to travel all the way to Maine.

So Longfellow was born in the twenties, had his sad backstory in the fifties, and is about 65 in Fallout 4.

Strong — 2230

Strong could have been anyone, but I think he was either a divorced dad who would’ve been an accountant in another life, or just Mayor McDonough.

Hancock — 2235

Is 53-year-old Hancock controversial? Let me cook.

There’s support for the theory that synth McDonough was created before the election in 2282. We can assume the human had full gray hair at that point, because synths don’t go gray. So he was probably in his fifties at least.

John was younger, but he can’t have been that much younger. So he was probably ghoulified in his late forties.

Deacon — 2245

If you accept the John D. theory, this does put him a little on the young side, but it fits.

Gage — 2251

There’s not much backstory from his teens up to 2286, and I’m tempted to believe it was a shorter period. But he has late-thirties eyes.

…Eye.

Cait — 2260

Her parents helpfully drew the line at child trafficking, so we have a good idea of her age. She was 18 when she went into slavery and about 23 when she left.

Some time later, she spent about three years at the Combat Zone. Assuming some buffer room between the two periods, I put her at 27 years.

Danse — 2261

He’d have lived in the Institute for awhile, then Rivet City, then the Brotherhood.

He was already a paladin in 2277, but Maxson says it took him “many years” to become one.

Preston — 2262

I don’t know what it is about him that screams 25-year-old to me.

He joined the Minutemen at 17, then had “a few good years” before 2282 when Becker died.

MacCready — 2264

He was twelve in August 2277, and at that point he’d been mayor for three years.

He became mayor at ten. So he’s got to be nearly thirteen at the start of Fallout 3, which would make him 23 in Fallout 4.

Piper — 2166

Nat seems 13 to me. 

If Piper is old enough to have taken care of her as a baby, but not old enough to have significant memories of their mother, 21 sounds about wright.

Curie — 2277

Glory escaped the Institute in 2280, and she and G5 had known each other for some time before that.

Ada — 2281

Jackson seems to have created her reasonably recently.

Dogmeat IV — 2285

I think he is ouppy:)

X6-88 — 2287. 

Yeah, I said it.

This man thinks he’s so evil but he’s an actual baby.

My reasoning is that he wishes he had been there to see the University Point massacre in 2286, but apparently wasn’t.

It makes the game so much funnier.

If he was born earlier in the year, he could have been trained in time for the Kellogg flashback.

Part 1

Part 2

[nyxire]

jflkjdsf

[wonderjanga]

JL meets C.C.

So, the Justice League goes back in time to 1957 because some villain, let’s say Lex Luthor travelled to back then too for whatever reason. So now they have to stop him. Cue shenanigans and then while they’re trying to find Lex, John (I think this is my first post with John Stewart as GL) sees a newspaper that has C.C. and Marilyn on it. The newspaper talks about an Incan artifact they found. As they have literally nowhere to go, they go to see if C.C. can help them as they could use the extra firepower. (They think he’s Marvel and also literally everyone is against them, Lex turned the government against them by calling them foreign invaders. Remember this is both less than 15 years after WW2, and this is also two years into Vietnam.) C.C. would get dragged along because Lex thinks he’s Marvel so he’d also get shot at and all that. Here’s some interactions I think would happen:

Batman: *Takes off cowl because there’s no way Marvel should know him, and future Marvel already knows his identity*

C.C.: *stares at Bruce for a bit and thinks he’s Thomas Wayne* “Hey… you’re Patrick’s boy, right? Why’re you running around in a bat costume? Also how did you age thirty years in the two months since I last saw you?”

(Let’s say this is the same universe as the Great Grandpa Wayne and C.C. post)

Batman: *Gets flashbacks*

or

*Under heavy fire from robots because Lex teamed up with the government to mass produce robots for the war effort, money and so he could kill them. C.C., Flash, and GL are all kinda laying on the floor while bullets rain above them*

C.C.: (By the way, all of them are yelling over the sound of the bullets, cause bullets are really loud) “Can we wrap this up? I want to get back to my wife.”

Flash: “You have a wife?!” *completely shocked and betrayed one of his best buddies didn’t tell him this*

C.C.: *grabs some stuff from around them and starts making something* “Yeah.” *pauses his making his thing and sighs dreamily* “Marilyn.” (Bro really loves his wife) *goes back to making whatever he’s making*

GL: “What’re making?”

C.C.: “What?”

(Again, they’re yelling over a bunch of bullets)

GL: “What are you making?”

C.C.: “Oh! A shrapnel grenade!” *Finishes and throws it out of one of the many holes made by the bullets*

*loud explosion, guns stop. The three lay on their stomachs on the ground in silence*

GL: “Why do you know how to make that?”

C.C.: “I wasn’t able to dodge the draft.”

or

C.C.: “You’re an Atlantean?” *Slowly looks over to Arthur* “Tell me everything.” *pulls out pocket notebook that’s decorated with stickers, courtesy of a seven year old Mary*

Aquaman: *Happy to share anything about his culture and people* “I can tell you anything but its location.”

C.C.: “Fine by me! I just want to know everything.” *suddenly gets super intense*

*League looks at each other cause this is a rare time Marvel is actually actually serious*

[unabashegirl]

Fragments — one shot

Harry runs into Y/N in Japan. She is his ex and she is seeking closure.

Author's note: Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing well. Here is this week's one shot! I hope you enjoy it. LOTS OF ANGST! The second part will get posted tomorrow.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Please note that everything that is both underlined and italicized is from the past—they are flashbacks!

word count 3.9K

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

As the sun began its descent in the late afternoon sky, Shiba Park in Tokyo was bathed in a gentle, golden light. The cherry blossoms, just beginning to bloom, added a delicate touch of pink to the scene, signaling the early days of spring. The air was crisp but not cold, filled with the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and fresh grass.

Harry Styles, hoping to escape the relentless pace of his life, walked through the park with a coffee in hand. Dressed casually, he blended in with the locals, his trademark curls tucked under a beanie and his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The sounds of children playing, birds chirping, and the distant hum of the city created a peaceful backdrop.

As Harry roamed along the winding paths, taking in the serene beauty of the park, his attention was drawn to a familiar figure sitting on the grass. It was Y/N, his ex-girlfriend, enjoying a solitary picnic. A blanket was spread out before her, adorned with an assortment of snacks and a book lying open beside her. She seemed lost in her own world, her face relaxed and serene.

Two years had passed since their breakup, a period marked by unresolved tensions and painful memories. Seeing Y/N unexpectedly stirred a mix of emotions within Harry. He paused, torn between the urge to approach and the instinct to keep his distance. The years apart had softened some of the bitterness, but the wounds were still there, just beneath the surface.

Y/N, sensing someone's gaze, looked up and their eyes met. For a moment, time stood still. The park faded away, and all that existed was the shared history and unspoken words between them. Harry's heart raced, and he wondered if the universe was giving them a chance to get some closure or if it was sick joke.

Harry's breath hitched slightly as he stood there, unsure of what to do next. His mind raced with memories of their past together—the good times, the laughter, the fights, and ultimately, the heartbreak. He took a tentative step forward, then stopped. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed to be caught in a similar turmoil. Her eyes, which had initially shown surprise, softened as she looked at him, but there was also a hint of uncertainty.

The sounds of the park seemed to fade into the background as they continued to hold each other’s gaze. Finally, Harry took another step forward and then another until he was standing a few feet away from her. He hesitated, then managed a small, tentative smile.

“I thought Japan was my territory and off limits for you” he said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

“Didn’t realize that we still had divided territories. Weren’t you in Italy a few weeks ago?” she replied, a playful tone in her voice, but her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She shifted slightly on the blanket, making room as if inviting him to sit.

He took the invitation, lowering himself onto the grass beside her. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and distant laughter from other park visitors. Harry took a sip of his coffee, searching for the right words.

"Point taken," he said with a knowing smile, aware that Italy held a special place in her heart. Perhaps that's why he found himself spending most of his free time there—chasing her and the memories they had once shared. Italy had become one of refuge, a place where he could feel closer to her, even if she was no longer by his side.

"I didn’t expect to see you here," he finally said, glancing at her.

"I didn’t expect to see you either," she replied, a faint smile touching her lips. "How have you been?"

He nodded, looking down at his coffee cup. "I've been... busy. Touring, recording, the usual. What about you?"

“Good. Nothing unusual” she said, her gaze drifting to the cherry blossoms. "Life's been quiet, but good.”

"How long are you staying?"

"A month."

"You finally took those vacations," he smiled warmly, fully aware of how much she had dreamed of this much-needed break. The thought of her taking time for herself brought a sense of relief—he had always wanted her to prioritize her well-being, even if their paths had diverged.

Y/N nodded, a grateful expression softening her features. "Yes, finally," she replied, a hint of exhaustion tinged with excitement in her voice. "I needed this more than I realized."

Harry looked at her, noticing the subtle signs of weariness that hinted at the weight she had been carrying. "I'm glad you're giving yourself this time," he said sincerely. "You deserve it."

As they sat on the grass, Y/N suddenly glanced at her watch and then back at Harry, her expression shifting. "I need to get going," she said softly, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Harry looked at her, concern etching his features. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I have stuff to do."

Harry felt a pang of disappointment but tried to hide it. "I get it," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “Let me walk you out?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure”.

They stood up together, brushing off their clothes. As they walked side by side through the park, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path. The silence between them was comfortable, though charged with unspoken words and hidden feelings.

Y/N looked at him momentarily and she felt like she was in the dream. Like in one of the numerous dreams that she had when they had just broken up.

As they neared the exit, Harry felt a growing sense of urgency. He wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. The thought of not seeing her again gnawed at him, so he took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Y/N glanced at him, sensing the hesitation in his voice. "I’m not sure yet."

Harry's heart raced as he quickly blurted out, "I’m taking a course on making sushi in the afternoon, and in the evening, I was invited to an art exhibition. Would you like to come with me?"

He winced slightly, realizing how rushed and jumbled his words had sounded. But to his relief, Y/N seemed to understand him perfectly. She hesitated, clearly taken aback by the suddenness of the invitation. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to decline, to remind herself of the pain that still lingered from their past. Yet another part of her, the part that still held onto the connection they once shared, was tempted to say yes.

She looked at him, trying to gauge his intentions. It wasn’t lost on her how much effort he was putting into this, how much he seemed to want to bridge the gap between them. But she also knew that accepting would mean opening old wounds, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Deep down, she felt a strong need for closure. She deserved at least that from him—an explanation for everything that had happened in those last few months. The questions that had haunted her, the confusion that lingered, all demanded answers. And as much as she wanted to protect herself from further pain, she knew that without closure, she would never truly be able to move on.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing as she weighed her options. Harry’s invitation felt like an opportunity—a chance to finally confront the unresolved issues between them, to hear his side of the story, and maybe even to find some peace.

“Okay,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. “I’ll go”.

Harry’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and relief. “Really?”

She nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah”. she agreed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Harry nodded, his smile growing. “I’ll pick you up”.

“Sounds good” She gave him a small nod.

As Y/N walked away, a surprising sense of calm washed over her. She returned to the charming Airbnb she had rented, a place that had captivated her with its traditional decor and tranquil Japanese garden. This trip had been a rare indulgence—she never took vacations, so she had splurged on a stay that offered peace and serenity. Running into Harry had been the last thing she expected, a twist she hadn’t anticipated.

Once back, Y/N found herself reaching for the bottle of wine she had been saving for her last night in Japan. She poured herself a generous glass, savoring the rich aroma, and then slid open one of the doors that led to the garden. Sitting on the edge, she let her gaze drift over the carefully tended landscape, the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze soothing her nerves.

As she sipped her wine, memories flooded back—how it all began with Harry, how blissfully happy they had been during those first two years. The laughter, the shared dreams, the moments that had once made her heart soar.

Y/N rushed through the crowded streets, her phone cradle between her ear and shoulder as she fumbled with bags. She was late, as usual, and in the midst of her hurried pace, she decided to call her coworker to confirm a meeting time.

Without looking too closely, she scrolled through her contacts and dialed the number of her coworker. The phone rang twice before a voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?” a deep, distinctly British voice said.

“Hey, I’m running a bit late,” Y/N said not bothering with pleasantries. “But I’m almost there, so don’t leave without me, okay?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Um, I think you might have the wrong number, love,” the voice replied, amusement clear in the tone.

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. That wasn’t her coworker’s voice. Realization hit her like a freight train.

“Oh my God,” she blurted out, her face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I thought I was calling someone else!”

The man on the other end chuckled, a warm, easy sound that somehow made her feel even more flustered. “It’s not every day I get a call like this. I’m amused”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear into thin air. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, feeling like a complete idiot. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Don’t hang up just yet” He assured her, his voice still light with humor. “I’m a bit curious now. Who were you trying to call?”

“My coworker,” she replied, still mortified. “We were supposed to meet for a presentation, and I’m runnin —”

Suddenly, the call cut off, the connection lost as she moved through a spotty area of service. She stared at her phone in disbelief, her face heating up with a mix of mortification and frustration.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, but she couldn’t bring herself to redial. It had been a mistake, after all. He probably didn’t think twice about it, she told herself, brushing off the encounter as nothing more than a fleeting moment of awkwardness.

Little did she know, the brief exchange would leave a lasting impression on him. The first track on his next album would be inspired by that stranger’s call, and it would become a hit record.

The next day, as they strolled through the bustling streets of Japan, Harry noticed the silence that had settled between them. The vibrant surroundings seemed to contrast with the quiet tension that hung in the air. He glanced over at Y/N, who was lost in thought, her expression distant.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Harry remarked gently, breaking the silence. His tone was soft, tinged with concern as he searched her face for any sign of what might be on her mind.

Y/N looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She offered him a small, almost apologetic smile. “Just taking it all in,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual too, as if she were trying to keep something at bay.

Harry nodded, but he could tell there was more to it. There was a weight in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a heaviness that seemed to grow with each step they took closer to the restaurant he had reserved for their private cooking lesson.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” Harry said, sensing the tension that lingered between them. He wanted to clear the air, to ease the unease that seemed to hang over them, but he knew that doing so would mean opening Pandora’s box—revealing a lot of things he wasn’t ready to confront just yet.

Harry’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to make things more difficult, but the weight of unspoken questions pressed down on her, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Harry,” she began, her voice trembling slightly as she forced herself to continue, “what went wrong?”.

The question hung there, raw and exposed, cutting through the fragile peace they had tried to maintain. Harry’s steps faltered, his breath catching as he turned to face her, the streets of Japan fading into the background.

“Y/N…” he started, but his voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right words. Or maybe he was afraid of them.

She looked into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, an apology, anything that could make sense of the pain that had consumed her in the months after their breakup. “We used to be happy until those last few months,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s chest tightened as memories of their past came rushing back. He could see it all so clearly—the late-night conversations that stretched into the early morning, the spontaneous trips, the way she used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. It was all there, and it hurt to think about how they had lost it.

Y/N stood outside the studio, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned against the wall, trying to stay out of sight. She had only been dating Harry for a few weeks, and everything still felt so new, so fragile. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she’d arrived at the studio, the sound of his voice singing had stopped her in her tracks.

She could hear him inside, his voice smooth and captivating as he worked through a melody with a small group of people. Y/N knew she should knock, let him know she was there, but something held her back. She was still shy around him, nervous about stepping into his world, a world she felt she was only just beginning to understand.

The music flowed through the walls, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. She could hear the passion in Harry’s voice, the way he poured himself into every note. It was mesmerizing, and she found herself leaning closer to the door, not wanting to miss a single word.

She bit her lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she listened. This was Harry in his element, doing what he loved, and she didn’t want to interrupt that. But as much as she loved hearing him sing, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, like she was intruding on something private.

Just as she was about to quietly slip away, the door to the studio creaked open. One of the musicians stepped out, giving Y/N a polite nod as he passed by. She froze, hoping he hadn’t noticed her lingering there like some awkward fan. But as the door swung wider, Y/N realized with a jolt that Harry was looking directly at her.

He paused mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up with surprise and something else—something warmer. A smile spread across his face, and he excused himself from the group, his gaze never leaving hers as he stepped toward the doorway.

“Hey darlin’” Harry said softly, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and affection. “How long have you been out here?”

Y/N blushed, feeling caught. “Not long,” she lied, glancing down at her shoes. “I didn’t want to interrupt… You sounded amazing, by the way.”

Harry chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “You could’ve come in, you know. I don’t bite,” he teased, but his eyes were gentle, understanding her hesitation.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she admitted, still feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

“Come here. You can never distract me” Harry said, his tone sincere. He reached out, taking her into a tight hug. Harry pulled Y/N into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if he were trying to shield her from the world. She melted into him, her head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

Harry held her close, his hand gently stroking her back in slow, soothing circles. The tension she had felt earlier began to dissolve in the comfort of his embrace, replaced by a sense of peace that only he could bring her. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him, a scent that was both familiar and calming.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his eyes soft with affection.

“You are staring” She murmured, her voice low and tender. Before she could add anything else, Harry leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal his words with reassurance.

The kiss was sweet, filled with a quiet promise that made Y/N’s heart flutter. When he pulled back, he gave her a soft smile, his eyes filled with warmth. Without letting go of her, Harry reached down and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. His grip was firm, yet gentle.

“You tell me,” Harry said, his voice suddenly sharp, cutting through the tension between them. “You were the one who left.” The bitterness in his tone was undeniable, the memory of that night still raw and vivid in his mind.

Y/N flinched at the harshness in his words, the pain of that night rushing back to her as well. “You still don’t get it? “How hard is to accept the fact that I left you because you didn’t deserve me?”. She shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. “You shut me out. You pushed me away until I couldn’t take it”.

Harry’s jaw tightened, the frustration and hurt that had been simmering inside him now boiling over. “I didn’t know how to talk to you,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. “I still don’t know how to talk to you”.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking all over again. “You made me feel like I wasn’t enough,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Like I couldn’t do anything right, and that no matter how hard I tried, I was always going to lose you.”

Harry’s expression softened, the anger in his eyes giving way to regret. “It’s here” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as they arrived at the restaurant.

As they arrive at the restaurant, the atmosphere feels almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that still lingers between them. The restaurant is tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, its traditional wooden façade illuminated by soft, warm lights. The sliding door opens as they approach, and they are greeted by the chef, a kind-looking man dressed in traditional Japanese clothing. His warm smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, and he bows slightly as he welcomes them.

"Welcome," the chef says in a gentle voice, his English tinged with a thick accent. "It is an honor to have you here today."

Harry returns the bow, his hand still lightly resting on Y/N’s back as they step inside. “Thank you for having us,” he replies, his tone respectful.

The chef guides them down a narrow hallway, leading them into a cozy kitchen space at the back of the restaurant. The kitchen is immaculate, with gleaming countertops and neatly arranged utensils. Fresh ingredients are laid out in beautiful wooden bowls, each one perfectly prepared for the lesson ahead. The smell of fresh fish, rice, and various seasonings fills the air, making Y/N’s stomach rumble slightly in anticipation.

The chef turns to them with another smile. “Today, we will be learning the art of sushi,” he says, gesturing to the ingredients. “Please, take an apron.”

Y/N reaches for one of the aprons hanging on a nearby hook, the fabric soft and clean in her hands. She fumbles slightly with the ties, her fingers a bit clumsy as she tries to secure it around her waist. Before she can figure it out, Harry steps forward, his hands gentle as he takes the ties from her.

“Here, let me help,” he says softly, his voice filled with a quiet warmth that makes her heart skip a beat.

Y/N turns slightly, allowing him to stand behind her. She feels the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck as he carefully ties the apron around her, his fingers brushing against her back in a way that sends shivers down her spine. There’s a tenderness in the way he handles the simple task, a care that speaks volumes, even without words.

“All set,” Harry murmurs, his voice close to her ear. He gives the ties a gentle tug to make sure they’re secure before stepping back, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips.

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, her heart fluttering at the look in his eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers, her voice soft as she tries to ignore the way her emotions are threatening to bubble up to the surface.

The chef, oblivious to the silent exchange between them, claps his hands together, drawing their attention back to the task at hand. “Let us begin,” he says with enthusiasm. “I will show you how to prepare the rice, and then we will move on to cutting the fish.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to refocus her mind on the lesson ahead. But even as the chef begins to explain the process, she can’t shake the feeling of Harry’s hands on her, the lingering warmth of his touch a constant reminder of the connection that still exists between them, despite everything that has happened.

Part 2

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET SERIES

f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

sebastian vettel x singer ex gf!reader | 2018 to 2022 f1 seasons

for more information to the reader: ❥ this series will include some flashbacks to get to know more the characters and their story. ❥ it contains right person, wrong time and friends to lovers tropes. ❥ taylor swift and little mix don't exist in this universe as y/n and her music is based on theirs. ❥ some parts might include sensitive content. pay attention to trigger warnings at the beginning of each part.

started: JULY 17TH 2024 currently status: on going | last updated: july 24th masterlist under the cut !

taglist: [@nhfls @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @mploopssek @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i couldn't keep it anymore. i just can't thank you enough to all of you who liked, reposted and commented on the very first part of goodbyes are bittersweet. i feel speechless because this story means a lot to me. hope you like the story of these stupid two as much as you liked the first part. hope to see your comments and feedback, and also hope we fangirl together over this two <3

SEBASTIAN VETTEL AND Y/N Y/L/N HAD BEEN EVERYTHING TO EACH OTHER SINCE THEY WERE LITTLE. The kids from Heppenheim became best friends as soon as their parents' friendship made it possible. To their surprise, but not to the rest of the world, the young pair formed an increasingly strong bond until, after years of internal suffering, they decided to confess their feelings to each other.

However, a slip-up at the beginning of 2013 left Y/N pregnant with the RedBull driver's child. Knowing what it would mean for her partner to bring a child into the world, especially considering that his chances of winning his fourth Formula 1 championship were very high, she made the tough decision to hide the truth from Sebastian, cutting off all relations with him and his family.

Four years after the birth of little Emily, in 2018, Y/N worked tirelessly to provide the best possible life for her daughter in a small bar in her hometown as a waitress and occasionally as a singer, while composing songs that she thought would never be successful... or so she believed until a video of her singing one of the best songs she ever composed went viral on YouTube, reaching more people than she ever imagined.

Even Sebastian Vettel, who never stopped loving the woman who had been his girlfriend for six years despite having tried to forget her many more times that he could count.

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET MASTERLIST

part 1: y/n decides to break up with seb once she finds out she's pregnant part 2: seb finds out that y/n just went viral on youtube after posting a song that might been composed about him part 3: y/n discovers not only that she went viral on youtube on her birthday and that she's offered a reunion with capital records, but also has to face a possible reunion with seb after no contact with him for four, almost five, years part 4: seb comes back home as a surprise only to see that hanna and a little mysterious girl receive them... instead of y/n, who was supposed to finally meet him part 5: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him? part 6: seb just wants y/n to accept that contract, and he's going to do everything he can to make it happen. also... the sebastian vettel fandom goes wild when her ex girlfriend does her comeback

[asteriass]

Mizi & Till’s shared rebellion

This scene is very interesting to me

It’s not merely a scene showcasing Till & Mizi’s relationship, it’s not simply a heartfelt scene featuring their closeness & how they did hung out. But rather, the scene also features them hiding from aliens - An act of rebellion

I think it’s very intentional… Because if the point was to simply have a sentimental scene about the two as Till passes away, they could’ve chosen any scene. Any scene where the two are hanging out, any scene where they have a geniune moment. Yet the background of the scene is them evading an Alien. Hiding from its watch, obscuring its view of the two‘s “rebellion”, going against the expected in an otherwise “mundane” moment.

A simple moment, the two are bonding. It develops as expected, there’s sincerity, yes. Yet as the two are huddled up close, in the background we can see they are hiding, the scene is not as simple as a normal sincere moment. They are actively going against the expectations of the aliens.

And to me… for this to be the main theme of the flashback showcased to us feels important.

Especially when you consider the deviations in Round 7 as compared to how other Rounds‘ deaths are executed!

In the case of Round 7, it’s the only flashback moment. Unlike Round 1 & 5, that contain various scenes of the past to create a more emotional impact for the deaths, Round 7 only contains this singular scene with Mizi. And even that only happens AFTER Till is shot. Not before, so any sentimental value hits the viewer differently too.

Thus it all ends up putting the focus on that flashback between Mizi and Till EVEN MORE. And when the core of this major sentimental focus is the two’s act of rebellion TOGETHER… it begs the question of what narrative purpose it serves, no?

Because let’s rewind a bit.

Round 7 goes incredibly… “”normally””. There’s no last minute contradiction or twist, even Till’s death lacks impact. Its almost underwhelming because of how simple the execution is. The Round progresses like a typical in-universe “Alien Stage“ round - for the Aliens it develops almost entirely as expected. I think you can kind of see where I’m going with, but to me, narratively, it’s very reminiscent of that flashback with Mizi. Both are simple at first glance… but is that really the point?

For the Aliens its going as expected. It’s going as it’s supposed to go, no tricks, no secrets. And yet in the flashback they are being tricked. Mizi and Till are tricking them, Mizi and Till are going against their expectations in secret. They are secretly rebelling, hiding the truth together.

Till looks beat up & scuffed, he‘s flustered and anxious, yet Mizi holds him close, beckoning him to not make any ”unexpected moves”, to not alert the Alien that everything is not under its control, that they are going behind its back.

A very similar sight to the very end up of the Round I feel… Mizi holds a wounded, anxious Till close. As the Alien’s cheer in the background - for them the round was an exciting success as expected…

And then she says something to him, during which Till’s hand falls to the side.

A coincidence, MAYBE… but also clear parallels. I think, this scene is supposed to parallel the two’s act of rebellion against the expected, like the flashback (the only flashback, and thus one of the most integral scenes in the entire MV)

Perhaps… there is more to it than it seems. Perhaps there’s more going between the two in the moment than the Aliens are privy. Perhaps they are once again defying their expectations. Perhaps once again, they are secretly acting out, keeping a secret. A secret, like… the Round didn’t go as expected. That the fire that was shot didn’t pick up the target correctly in its aim. That the beating pulse went under their radar. That maybe just maybe, though on his wounded, his heart is still beating.

That perhaps, once again, like in the past, their defiance, their rebellion in their own small way, has gone unnoticed from the Aliens’ watchful eye. A shared secret to save their lives

Aka, Till‘s heart is beating (even if faintly) and they are trying to trick the aliens and go under their radar, lest he be shot multiple times like Ivan was

[sarshles-cheescake-li]

Lu Guang's love language: Words of attack

The English subtitles for Link Click, from what I can see, universally translate Lu Guang's various insults towards Cheng Xiaoshi as "idiot." There may be a "moron" and "fool" or two in there, but I will be honest when I say that I don't really want to re-watch the entirety of seasons one and two to check. However, there is a little bit of subtlety in the exact words for "idiot" that Lu Guang uses.

Mandarin has… a lot of words for "idiot." Ones I can think off of the top of my head are 傻瓜，白痴，笨蛋， 蠢货，biao (an insult in the Muping dialect which I don't know the character for)，二百五，傻子，无脑，傻逼. For your reference, those are just the insults that specifically mean "stupid." If we get into other insults, we'd be here all day.

So the conclusion is that insults in Mandarin are an art. And man, does Lu Guang master said art perfectly. The insult he most commonly uses for Cheng Xiaoshi is 弱智 (ruozhi, weak intellect) which is one that allude to disability (please take this with a grain of salt! I really, truly don't know anything about the disabled Chinese community, so it's possible that it doesn't really carry the same meaning). This particular insult is interesting, because it's a really hard-hitting insult. Like, if I call someone 笨蛋 (bendan, stupid egg), it's a pretty weak, sometimes even affectionate term, frequently used by children. But ruozhi is an actual, legit insult, that someone will punch you for calling them. It's also something I would categorize as kind of an adolescent-young adult insult -- you would hear older folk using 蠢货 or 白痴 more often for "idiot." But Lu Guang calls Cheng Xiaoshi that like it's his second name.

The way Lu Guang uses the term, it takes on its own affectionate feel to it. He uses it whenever Cheng Xiaoshi's done or said something he's not happy with, even when the action isn't necessarily [being an idiot]. It's got a similar feel as a resigned sigh, or perhaps frustration.

But there are times when Lu Guang uses an insult that isn't ruozhi. During episode five of season one, while he's comforting Cheng Xiaoshi after a dive, he calls him 傻瓜 (shagua, stupid melon). Shagua is probably one of the most gentle of all the "idiot" insults, tied with maybe bendan. It's frequently used as a term of endearment, especially between couples (make of that what you will). The "stupid" in shagua also means a slightly different type of stupid than the one in bendan. If I had to define it, sha is stupid in terms of wisdom, and ben is stupid in terms of intelligence, in D&D terms. Like, if I failed my physics exam, I would be more ben. If I didn't read through my insurance policy before requesting my medication and had to cough up forty dollars for them (totally didn't happen just a few hours ago), I would be more sha. So Lu Guang, here, is calling Cheng Xiaoshi something like "unwise" or "naive," which is very fitting for the situation.

Interestingly, during Cheng Xiaoshi's flashback to Lu Guang in episode one of season two, Lu Guang cycles through three different insults: baichi, chunhuo, and bendan. Of these, baichi and bendan are within the "yeah couples call each other this sometimes" group, and chunhuo is a more genuine, demeaning insult. The fact that three of the nine different Lu Guang dialogues Cheng Xiaoshi flashes back to include Lu Guang calling him an idiot in various affectionate ways is pretty funny, I won't lie to you. There's also that a vast majority of the remembered sentences, even the ones that don't explicitly say "idiot," are basically Lu Guang clowning on Cheng Xiaoshi. As a side note, it's interesting that the last thing memory-Lu Guang says is bendan -- the softest, most childish insult, and the one with the most explicitly affectionate connotations in general use.

Lastly, in the twelfth episode of the second season, when the two are in the tunnels fighting and Cheng Xiaoshi tells Lu Guang to not push himself, Lu Guang responds with "baichi, you're not doing much better than me." In this case, he switches from ruozhi to baichi likely because it's a more serious situation, where the almost joking ruozhi wouldn't have been as appropriate. The stupid in baichi (the chi) is more of a "dim-witted" connotation, akin to calling someone slow or head-in-the-clouds.

In conclusion, Lu Guang's insults for Cheng Xiaoshi are:

弱智 (ruozhi) -- basically his nickname for Cheng Xiaoshi at this point, commonly used when he's annoyed with him or wants to make fun of him. Appears to be the default when Cheng Xiaoshi does something he doesn't like in a dive. 白痴 (baichi) -- the most commonly used alternative to ruozhi, I can't see any patterns of its usage. Seems to be the one he defaults to when the mood isn't right for ruozhi. 蠢货 (chunhuo) -- used only once (that I could see) in a sentence without context, so… /shrug 傻瓜 (shagua) -- a rarer insult, seems to be the one he uses when he's trying to comfort Cheng Xiaoshi but still needs to insult him. 笨蛋 (bendan) -- a more teasing, casual insult, one he flings out when he just wants to insult Cheng Xiaoshi in a non-serious situation.

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons

I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.

6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore

Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;

Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it

[too-much-tma-stuff]

No Body to Bury

This is a full dead spin off of another one shot I read about Danny being given flowers for his grave by a child.

-------

The Justice League had been working with Phantom for a while now, not consistently, but he showed up when they were dealing with something ~spooky~, and he’d given them a way to contact him. They called him in to consult, or to back them up sometimes because he was a bit of a power-house. At first they had thought the name was part of his shtick, after all his powers were ghostly enough and there was something satisfying about having a theme.

They had started to suspect something when the child citizen had given him flowers for his grave, and his delighted reaction. It could have just been a kid happy to get a gift, but it wasn’t, it was clearly more then that and Batman had had a flashback to one of Constantine’s crash course lesson’s on supernatural, the one on ghosts. Graves were very important to them, as were morning gifts like flowers and candles, whatever was culturally appropriate.

None of them knew where Phantom’s grave was, Batman had tried to find it, to find anything about the ghosts life and death, but there wasn’t much. Not before he became a hero in Amity park, so he could maybe guess that the other had died in Amity (if he had died), but there was no deaths that matched up with his appearance. The closest thing was a boy named Danny but he had gone missing years after Phantom showed up, and he’d never been declared dead officially. More was impossible to find, even after the GIW had been disbanded the information they had destroyed about the town couldn’t all be retrieved.

Since Batman didn’t know where Phantom’s grave was he couldn’t leave flowers on it directly which meant he had to actually give them to the ghost boy. It was a bit uncomfortable the first few times, and his kids made fun of him for being emotionally repressed but… it made Phantom so happy, and brought him closer and closer to Batman. He had already started to see Phantom as one of his kids, even if he knew he’d never get the ghost to come back to the manor. The gifts helped, he found that Phantom also liked to receive food, he even picked at it sometimes even though it seemed he didn’t need to eat. Sharing meals with him was a good excuse to actually talk some though, Batman would listen and eat his own food as Phantom picked at his and rambled about space, about recent fights he’d been in, and people he’d met.

Through all that Batman managed to learn more about the young hero, about what he valued, and what he did when he wasn’t being a hero. Apparently he spent a lot of time off world but exploring rather then being a hero to the galaxy. Batman had a feeling superman would be upset by that, that Phantom could be doing more good then he was and was choosing not to. But the ghost was clearly still a kid, or at least had been when he died, and he was plenty heroic, he didn’t need to be dealing with universal threats at maximum sixteen years old, Batman felt bad calling him in for the planetary threats, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

As they got closer Phantom started to let other things slip, that he’d had a sister, and a couple of close friends that he still watched over when he could. When Batman had asked if those people knew he was dead Phantom had fallen silent for a full minute and then changed the subject entirely, Batman hadn’t pushed it that time. If he had Phantom would have retreated, but as it was they kept having lunch together, and the boy let more and more slip. Including more stories about those friend he must have had while he was alive, it was during one of those that he let his name slip.

“So my sister said to me, ‘Danny you should-‘” his mind seemed to catch up with his mouth and he froze, Batman was still too but when Phantom started to fade from view he spoke up.

“Phantom, wait, why don’t we leave the tower and go somewhere private. We can talk secret identities, I’ll tell you mine too,” Batman promised, he thought it was the best way to make Danny feel better, besides he did trust Phantom.

Danny hesitated before fading back into full visibility and nodding, “Alright,” He agreed, looking very young and vulnerable. “Do you mind if I fly us down to earth? I’ll keep you safe from space,” He asked and Batman nodded, letting Danny grab his arms and phase them through the building and out. Danny flue quickly back down to the earth, the side facing away from the sun so it was the middle of the night, putting Batman down in the middle of an abandoned park, landing as well and going to sit on the swing set.

Batman followed, sitting down next to the young hero and trying hard not to think about Ace, another talented and powerful person who went through to much and died to young. Once he was sat down Bruce sighed and took off his cowl, showing his face to the other young hero. “I’m Bruce Wayne,” He said with a wry smile when he saw familiar recognition cross over Danny’s face.

“No way, that makes so much sense,” Danny cackled, which wasn’t the reaction Bruce was expecting. He’d ask about that later, instead he just gestured for Danny to introduce himself next.

“Danny Fenton,” the kid introduced, holding out his hand with an impish little smile. Bruce chuckled and shook it as if this was the first time they’d met instead of having known each other for nearly a year.

“I know that name,” Bruce hummed thoughtfully, back peddling a little when Danny tensed. “Sorry, worlds greatest detective and all, I did a bit of research on Amity Park when you joined us to see if I could track you down. I had ruled that out because your civilian identity didn’t go missing for two years until after you showed up as Phantom. Does that mean you’re not, well, dead?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck at the awkward question.

“Oh, no, I’m very dead,” Danny said with a bitter chuckle, pushing himself to rock on the swing a little. “But I didn’t die for a couple of years after I got my powers, not fully. I don’t think most people understand what it’s like to die twice,” He said, looking down, already pale hands going white around the knuckles with how tight he was holding the chains.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Batman said softly, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “But if you want to talk, I’ll listen, and I won’t break your confidence,” Bruce assured, they sat quietly for a few more minutes before Danny sighed and looked away.

“My parents were.. well probably best classed as mad-scientists. I loved them and they loved me but they were obsessed with ghosts and with discovery, it was always a tossup which was more important. I would join them in their lab to get their attention, and it was often my job to clean up after them. I ended up being micro-dosed on this stuff they called ectoplasm a lot which probably helped when the accident happened. My parents were trying to build a portal to the ‘ghost-zone’, what Constantine calls the infinite realms. It didn’t work at first, not till I stepped inside it, then it opened and it electrocuted me at the same time as flooding me with that weird glowing green ooze. It killed me and resurrected me simultaneously but not properly.

“Instead of actually bringing me back to life it bound my ghost back to my own body so I became the ghost possessing myself. That’s when I started working as a hero, while I was still partially alive.” He paused, swinging for a moment while Bruce stayed quiet and still, trying not to think about what Danny’s homelife must have been life, or how much it must have hurt to be killed like that.

“After a while the GIW showed up, they tried to catch me, but my parents had been trying to catch or destroy me as phantom for years. The GIW weren’t nearly as competent as the Red Huntress, so I avoided and ignored them. But I started to take it for granted and dismiss them, I didn’t pay enough attention, and they finally got the drop on me. I don’t want to talk about everything they did to me, but it was bad, and it was to much for my human half,” Danny stopped again and bit his lip, there was a hitch in his breathing that told Bruce exactly why Danny was hiding his eyes.

“Danny died, but it turned out that being half human was sort of holding back what I was capable of as a ghost,” He snickered with a little bit of bitter, vicious glee. “They couldn’t hold me anymore, all their little devices got left on my corpse when they forced me out and I destroyed the lab. After that I just… couldn’t go back to my life, it’s not natural. I died, they need to grieve me. That’s- that’s how it works.”

“And did they? Did you… get a burial?” Bruce asked, because he hadn’t seen anything about it in the news. His fear was confirmed when Danny took a deep breath and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t leave my body in the wreckage. I was worried… scratch that, I knew my parents would cremate me to try and keep me from coming back as a ghost, because they didn’t know I already was one. And that would weaken my connection to this world. I need to protect people, it’s half my purpose, I need a connection to this world.”

“Where did you hide it?” Batman asked, his breath catching when he saw Danny’s eyes flash a dangerous red.

“Why do you want to know?” He growled, bearing teeth that were sharper then they usually were. “You gonna give it back to my family for ~closure~? Destroy it yourself to curtail my power? I know Constantine is scared of me, he’d like that.”

Bruce immediately held his hands up in a placating gesture, of course Danny would be protective of his body. “No nothing like that Danny, I promise,” He said quickly. “But I just remember from what I’ve been told about ghosts, having a grave is important and, if you wanted, I would like to see you get a proper burial. It’s your body, you should get to control what happens to it but if you wanted a grave, a funeral, we have a protected graveyard for fallen heros. You’d fit right in,” He said with a uncertain smile.

Danny relaxed slowly, his eyes going back to green and his expression turning contemplative, looking back down as he thought about the offer. “Maybe… maybe,” He murmured. “It would be nice to have a grave, I’ve been leaving the flowers near my body in the ghost zone but… it would be nice to have a grave. I can feel the longing, the instinct. It feels bad to not have… have that, have something.

“But… I am scared. Would you be willing to- if you do an empty coffin funeral and burial for me, I’ll put my body in it, once the coffin is in the protected ground I can phase my body into it?” He asked, looking up at Batman worriedly and it was so obvious Danny was just a kid, a neglected boy who had been unlucky enough to die violently twice.

“Of course Danny, however you feel most comfortable,” Batman assured. Watching as Danny took a deep breath, more out of habit then anything, then nodded firmly.

“Then, I would like that. I know I am still here in a way so it feels weird having a funeral for me but, I still died, and I’d like to be remembered.” He murmured uncertainly.

“Of course, I understand. We didn’t get rid of my son’s grave when he came back because he still died. Being brought back, in any way, doesn’t really undo that,” Bruce sympathized, finally getting a small smile from Danny.

“Thank you Bruce, you’re a good guy. Now… do you need a lift back to the watchtower?”

“Yes please,” Bruce agreed with a sigh, finally standing up and pulling his hood back on. He had a funeral to plan.

"When we do have the funeral, can you ask your son to come? I'd like to meet him," Danny asked and Batman hummed, not sure how to explain the complicated relationship he had with Jason now.

"I'll try," He agreed, that was the best he could do really.

Part 2: here

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I have a little question, what happens if Rollo, Fellow and Skully Overblotted?

I don’t think anything would change other than the obvious (us getting new OB designs for the Halloweenies and maybe extended post-OB flashback sequences). If you’re looking for those, plenty of fan artists have made and shared their interpretations, including their own takes on what the Phantoms would be.

Honestly, I’m glad they don’t overblot because this way there’s more variety in how characters and their backstories are presented to us. There’s also in-universe lore reasoning (whether explicit or implied) as to why Rollo, Fellow, and Skully don’t OB, most notably Crowley stating that OB is "rare". (There is also something to be said that all the OBs we have observed so far are of NRC students, which then leads to theories that someone at NRC is purposefully inducing them; the usual culprits theorists point to are Yuu, Grim, or Crowley himself.) Additionally, I personally like to headcanon that Rollo has a lot of metal fortitude (+ he genuinely believes that ridding the world of magic would be beneficial), so he is able to slow his blot due to his self-discipline. As for Fellow, he lacks the magic pool to be considered a threat. This is mentioned in book 6; people with naturally low mana levels are less likely to OB, and therefore most of the Styx staff fit into this description to limit the danger they pose when they are in an environment that constantly exposes them to blot. As for Skully, he’s the only one that actually comes close to OB because 1) he has the magical pool for it (seeing as he has enough magic to get into NRC, unlike Fellow) and 2) the immaturity and emotionality to not control himself when he is upset, unlike Rollo). The only reason Skully doesn’t OB is because he gets the crud beaten out of him before he can fire off more spells.

[shepscapades]

... that lean makes me think of the lean Bdubs did in the syncing comic....which if course begs the question: Did Etho pick up this habit of leaning to indicate processing/suspicion from Bdubs or did Bdubs pick it up from Etho? (or is it just a good way to show that emotion in comic form XD) Also.... the hair clip... My impression is that the flashback is from pretty early on. Is the hair clip a precursor to the well known headband? In universe, why a headband? Since they both do wear headbands... Was the headband originally Bdub's? Is... I know Etho is scared during the whole Last Life thing... is he thinking that Bdubs is planning specifically on targeting one of the androids? Or is that his fear talking?

... And after all that speculating... Ouch, Poor Tango!! ( i know this is an important event for Tango, but we don't see any of his reaction or feelings about any of this yet)

Wonderful comic, as always, Shep!

WEEE These are such good questions omg :DDDD alright i couldn't shut up so i'm putting it under a read more =w=

this is basically a mini comic breakdown! just rambling about some of the dbhc plot and mecahnics >:D

The lean is such a fun detail, i didn't even realize the similarities-- but it's actually a really nice (totally intentional) callback! I think Etho absolutely picked up those mannerisms from Bdubs, the same way Doc did from Ren, and so on so forth-- the androids, especially throughout season 8 and last life, are using their partnered hermits (and the other hermits in general) to learn what it means to be and act human-- vocal mannerisms, physical mannerisms, learning emotions for the first time and what it means to feel them, everything! I kind of see Season 8 as their "young" period-- their first season, the season they learn who they are and develop some of their most iconic traits. Etho is still himself, shyness and stoicism and all, but he learns his whimsy and silliness and teasing nature from being with bdubs for so long :)

THE HAIR CLIP <333 Yeah Etho's "Replaying Memory" moment is when Doc was checking out his "wounds" / the damage he sustained (from the initial creeper blast that caused his deviation) for the first time! At the time of the memory, It had probably been a little while since the actual initial incident where Bdubs had covered him up a little bit to hide the damage, but i'm sure doc or someone else noticed before long LDFKGJDF so this is their first like... "checkup"! So Etho is pretty young here (Doc too, but he already has his robot arm at this point, so...), maybe within the first month or two of season 8. So he definitely normally wears a bandana at this point (the same band bdubs made him wear initially to cover up the forehead cracks a little), but he's clipped his bangs back here so Doc can get a better look at the damage :)

I have a LOT of feelings about Etho's mental dialogue throughout last life, and it's very complicated and i won't be able to shut up about it so that's for another post. I will say, I don't think Etho ever truly thought Bdubs would Boogey kill him (though, doubt is a very powerful thing, so it turns out). I think Etho is still puzzling Bdubs out (though he's definitely learned quite a lot about him), especially when it comes to more serious situations like this, so the unknowns are definitely the biggest sources of fear for him. He can only do so much with the data he currently has, and the idea that a weapon so sharp could permanently damage any of the androids... it's an unsettling thought, regardless of whoever the mostly likely victim ends up being. (I don't think Etho expects it to be Tango, either-- not until he sees that look in Bdubs' eyes 10 seconds before it happens. I think Doc's little speech about their models is just helpful information for the reader and a sense of foreshadowing (as well as a reminder for Etho of how Not-So-Indestructible he is/the other androids are), not so much that etho thinks it's going to be tango after recalling the memory. Same for Bdubs. I dont think bdubs decided to target Tango until he was staring the back of his neck down and realized he could take the opportunity before he lost it). Anyway i've already rambled too much /silly

And lastly, Yes. This is, besides his deviation, probably Tango's most formative moment. The second time he truly experiences rage. I don't know if I could do a comic or an illustration that truly does his rage moment justice after he wakes up post-respawn and has a meltdown trying to kill bdubs, but knowing that Skizz wasn't built until s9 and is therefore missing from Last Life (AKA, Tango has no one other than Etho and Bdubs), just... makes this betrayal so, so much more painful. This betrayal is very much about Tango's rage, but it's also about his sense of trust and safety and his understanding of the way the world works. Hermitcraft is safety and jokes and support, and sure there's a bit of death here and there, but this is unlike anything he's ever known-- it's adrenaline and fear and threats and betrayal and. Anyway what a normal meltdown to have! And Etho can do nothing to calm him down except hold him back from killing bdubs (there's something to be said there too, about Tango knowing for certain now that Bdubs obviously chooses Etho over himself (Because come on, Bdubs wouldn't have killed Etho. Let's be honest here), but knowing too that Etho is choosing bdubs by not letting Tango get the revenge he so rightfully deserves...) Anyway. I think i'll explode if i think about this more

[jonathansthickthighs]

My Sweetest Heart 5: Yandere! Fushiguro Toji 𝐱 Reader (Toji’s POV)

Description: You had a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, toxic behavior, DARK CONTENT, GORE (slight), murder, jealousy, possessive behavior, stalking, desperate toji, slight smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), mentions of baby trapping, breeding kink?, daddy kink, masturbation, alternative universe (no curses), age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s)

A/N: Greetings, reader. I wanna thank you for all the love you showed this mini series, I really really appreciate it <3. Without further ado, here is the final chapter! It’s a little different as it is written completely in Toji’s POV and it’s also slightly darker that the previous ones, so read at your own risk! Hope you enjoy :)

Italics = flashbacks

NOT EDITED!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

You’re mine.

The instant my eyes landed on you, I knew that was my destiny— the sole purpose for my existence in this floating sphere we call Earth. From that fateful night onward, I became aware. I became aware of what a man truly in love is capable of. All things suddenly made sense, and I felt everything. The gentle breeze caressing my skin was almost like an imitation of your soft hand running through my tough-to-the touch skin. The sun kissing my face with the same passion as your tender lips. Those romance movies and novels I once detested now played endlessly in my mind, imagining it was us, living our own life as a happy couple.

You make me vulnerable.

Vulnerability used to be such a foreign feeling to me, not even experiencing it as a child. It makes me feel weak— you make me weak. But I’ve learned to accept this newfound fragility because I love you. This vulnerability, it’s truly a disconcerting sensation, like exposing an unarmored heart to the world— to you. You’re my world. You’ve taught me more about life than I could have ever imagine, something I wouldn’t expect from someone so young. At your age, I was nothing more than an ignorant boy who didn’t understand or cared about anything. Yet, in your presence, I’ve come to see vulnerability as a strength. Loving you has taught me that this feeling is not about weakness, but about trust and intimacy. Allowing you to see the depths of my soul and getting the same in return from you has made me find solace in those moments. I now embrace the beautiful feeling of vulnerability because thanks to you, it makes me feel like the strongest man alive.

I know I have one or two… loose screws.

I can be an incredibly jealous and territorial man when it comes to you. Insecurity floods my mind at any minimum interaction you have with a man, in particular men your age. No matter how much you reassured me on your desire to only be with me and my age not being an issue to you, there was always a little voice in my head that made me erupt. I know you had lost count of how many times I had caused a scene in public, getting all up in the other man’s face with threats of violence. You’d barely manage to drag me with out of the place, apologizing profusely as you begged the owners to not call the police on your problematic boyfriend. Remember those times? I’m deeply sorry, sweetheart, I’m aware of how much I embarrassed you. It wasn’t my intention, but each occasion I would spot a man eyeing you up, I couldn’t control myself from going ballistic. You are every man’s dream, a vision of beauty too pure for this ugly world. That’s why I can’t let them have you— I’m just trying to protect you.

Even when you didn’t like situations I put you in, I am certain you loved the aftermath. Pistoling my thick cock in your heavenly hole, claiming what’s mine always made my jealousy and insecurities dissipate. Your scream and moans only confirmed how much you enjoyed giving yourself to me. Make up sex with you was so intense and passionate, it almost made me want to start fights with you constantly. Your slick juices coating my cock was evidence of your arousal. You loved make up sex as much as I did. I can’t help myself from remembering how many times you moaned into my ear that me you belonged only to me, making my heart leap in joy. I stay up night after night reminiscing in those precious moments, those are memories I will always hold close to my heart and continue to long for.

“F-fuck me! This pussy is yours, Toji! I belong to you, only you!” Your whines were muffled by my hand placed on the side of your face, pressing your head into the mattress, thrusting my cock into your dripping cunt from behind. The way you moaned my name, telling me you were mine making my cock throb from the overbearing arousal. You could never fully grasp how you make me feel because it transcends anything this world could offer. It’s something beyond words, beyond earthly experiences, as if it belongs to a place untouched by time and space.

“You better not be lying to me, sweetheart. No other man can have you like this, this pretty little hole was made for my cock only!” Delivering a harsh slap to your ass, I could feel myself getting riled up at the imagine of another man seeing you in this position. It wasn’t your fault men wouldn’t stop throwing themselves at you, but I just wish you weren’t so fucking nice about it. Your kindness only encourages them and it makes me sick. It makes me feel like you like the attention and I’m not here for it. All your attention should be on me!

I continued spanking your now sore globes, hearing you let out whimpers, not able to identify if they’re from pain, pleasure or a mixture of both. I was so angry at you I couldn’t bring myself to care. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me. “Toji, I’m not lying. I’m only yours. P-please!” You sobbed and I felt my heart drop when I saw actual tears falling from your eyes. This is were I draw the line, if there was something I couldn’t stand was seeing you cry. Forcing myself to stop, I removed my hand from the side of your face to wipe your tears away gently, calling your name.

“No! Don’t stop! It feels s’good, Toji!” My eyes widened briefly, but I couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped my lips. You were crying from pleasure. As much as I hate to see you cry, I can’t keep myself from thinking about how absolutely beautiful you look when you do. The way your skin glows, your eyes sparkle and your lips puff up is like a work of art. An art piece of incalculable value that nobody but me can admire.

“What a fucking slut. You like -hah- being punished don’t you, baby? You like being used by me.” I hissed as I started thrusting into your tight pussy fast and hard, loving the way your ass bounced with each rough stroke I gave you. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, your ass received another firm slap from my hand, making you cry out as your cunt clenched around me. Gods, your pussy is delicious. Nothing felt better than you. Our first night solidified our bond, the connection between us felt so strong I thought it to be impossible for you to not feel the same way.

I could tell by your constant clenching that you were going to release your delectable nectar all over my pulsing cock, which made a wave of relief wash over me as I’d been holding my own release from the moment I felt your slickness engulf me. I absolutely love coming inside you, but it’s a shame you’re on birth control. Those damn pills never cease to piss me off. My intention from the first time we had sex was to impregnate you. It mortifies me to admit that one of the main reasons I came inside you so many times that night was in hopes of baby trapping you so I’d be in your life one way or another, but now that you’re my woman I truly desire to become a father for reasons beyond tying you to me for life. I want to have a family with you.

“Are you gonna let me put a baby in you, huh, sweetheart?” I dare to ask you as I move my hand down to play with your swollen clit because I know how much you love it when I do.

“Yes, daddy! Please, fill me up.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back from the pleasure, you’re just so good to me. I knew your answer wouldn’t be as positive if my dick wasn’t inside you, but I enjoy the way you feed into my delusions when I’m fucking you, knowing you’d say yes to anything I ask as long as I’m rearranging your insides. Your little plea was all it took for me to paint your insides white, releasing rope after rope of semen hoping that this time you’d be part of that 0.1% of the cases where birth control fails. I felt you coming around me, milking me of all I had, squeezing me so tightly I felt as if I might be trapped inside you forever.

“I love you so much, Toji.”

You broke up with me.

The way you told me you loved me replayed in my mind every hour of every day since that moment. For the first time in my life, I cried. I cried in front of you, raw and vulnerable, and I begged you not to leave me. Despite my tears and pleas, you still walked away, leaving me with a hole in my chest. It’s a cold world, but I’d be lying if I said didn’t drive you to this point.

You found out. About everything.

You hadn’t heard from your friends in months and you weren’t aware of their reasoning for ignoring you so cruelly. You noticed they had blocked you, noticing your messages weren’t going through, the same as your calls. I knew you were thinking to yourself if ditching them a few times good enough reason for them to kick you out of their lives like you meant nothing to them. Years of friendship and memories down the drain because something as insignificant as this. It made you ponder if only you had managed your time more wisely maybe you would’ve still had their friendship.

I listened to you vent about it, trying to understand what you did to deserve this treatment. I was your shoulder to cry on. I had been nothing more than supportive towards you. In a matter of a few months I became your unconditional companion, the greatest reason for your happiness. I could tell you were developing an emotional dependence on me and I knew it startled you, but I liked it. Having you depend on me gave you another reason to not leave me and I would rely on that for as long as I could.

In spite of your growing dependency on me, you felt our love was too good to be true and that’s when you started digging.

You ran into one of your former best friends at the store and despite her efforts to avoid you, your feet strode towards her with unyielding determination and you confronted her. You could tell she was nervous. She had all the reasons to be. After our phone call, I decided that wasn’t enough to keep her away, so I had one of my… “coworkers” pay her a little visit, but only to give her a scare. Nothing serious, only a threat to end her life if she did as much as look in your direction. She’s a bad influence to you, doll, and you know it. Always going out clubbing, encouraging you to talk to men and to let them put their dirty hands on you. Always telling you that there’s nothing wrong with wearing revealing clothes in public like you’re some common whore. You know I don’t like it when you show off what’s supposed to be preserved for my eyes only. I can’t allow that type of friendship. Don’t you understand that’s how relationships get ruined? I’m just trying to protect you.

With hesitation, your best friend spoke to you, her fists gripping the handle of the shopping cart tightly. Her face twisted with pain as she began to speak, her words seemingly causing her physical discomfort. She told you everything, and you stood there, a perplexed expression on your face, unable to believe a words she uttered. You yelled at her for even attempting to tarnish my image in such way, and you have no idea how happy that made me. Yet, despite your anger, the hairs in your skin stood on end, a silent signal from your intuition urging you to believe her.

Remember the shaken feeling you got when I grabbed you by the hair the morning after we first made love, sweetheart? That’s exactly how you felt this very moment. But to my benefit, you were in denial. I knew she’d be a problem from the start and after all my efforts, she keeps getting in the way of our love. That stupid bitch. She went as far as telling you, through tears, that she feared for your life. As if I would do anything to hurt you. She even suggested fleeing from Japan with her. The mere thought filled me with simmering rage. I would never allow such a thing, and you were ever to disappear from my life because of her fault, I would search every corner of the globe, every hidden crevice, until I found you.

You stormed out of the store feeling agitated, trying to control your breath. I could tell you wanted nothing more than to stomp into my place to yell and scream at me, but to my surprise, you were calm when you arrived. You were so serene it was almost frightening.

That night you let me have my way with you, but it was different. The usual sparkle in your eye had vanished, replaced by a lifeless, hollow stare— I could barely get a moan out of you.

“Sweetheart, you seem out of it tonight. Is everything all right?”

I inquired, stopping my thrusts, concerned about your lack of emotion. I had always been able to read you, but this time I couldn’t decipher your thoughts. The only thing that I could think of was that you believed your best friend’s words, but what were you thinking about doing about it? Your confrontational nature had fooled me into thinking you’d touch the topic with me right away, but the way you were so inside your thoughts made anxiety bubble up inside me.

“I’m fine, Toji. I’m just tired. Let’s keep going.” You answered offering me a smile, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes like it usually did.

I can’t explain why I kept going, but I did. You started moaning, but to me—someone who has made you moan like a bitch in heat innumerable times— it was obvious they were fake moans. I could feel my body trembling from a mixture of pleasure and apprehension and I came inside you the same way I did every night. You didn’t orgasm that night. All you did was wait for me to roll off you as I held you with my face buried in your neck. I held you like it’d be our last night together. As soon as I moved away from you warm body, you rushed to the bathroom to take a shower as if you were disgusted about giving yourself to me.

“I love you, sweetheart.” I hesitantly said as I got up to walk after you, but the only answer I got was a door slammed in my face.

That night, I should have held you longer.

Hours turned into days, days turned into a week without a single word from you. My phone became a repository of unanswered texts and calls, each one a silent plea for your return. I wandered past your house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, but it stood empty. Your absence was haunting me. No physical or mental torture I had endured compared to the pain I felt. Thoughts invaded my mind, did you actually go along with your friends’ plan and fled the country? Noticing all of your important belongings were still at your place, that couldn’t be a possibility.

I sighed deeply as I lay on your bed, the familiar scent of your shampoo enveloping me as the aroma clung to your pillows. I let my eyelids fall shut reminiscing in all the nights we spent together on this very bed, in particular our first. I couldn’t stop my cock from hardening at the combination of your scent and the memories. My eyes landed on your laundry basket, a black thong catching my attention. I recall the time you wore it for me, you looked absolutely immaculate in this little piece. I rose from the bed making my way towards it, gripping it tightly in my fist as I brought it up to my nose. My cock twitched as the ghost of your scent still lingered on it. This brought back old memories of the times I broke into your apartment before you even knew of my existence. All the countless times I sprawled myself on your bed, messing up your bedsheets as I masturbated to your scent. All those times I would orgasm merely from the feeling of your silky sheets on my bare cock as I would grind my hips against them.

I fell back on your bed as I continued to inhale what was left of your scent, feeling the tent in my sweatpants grow larger. Biting my lip, I pulled the waistband down, feeling relief as my erection sprung free from its retrains. I let out a shaky breath as I gripped the base of my cock. I missed you so much, going a week without seeing you, hearing your voice— a week without your touch, had been excruciating.

I stroked my cock slowly, trying to mimic the way you would tease me. “P-please, sweetheart. I n-need you.” I beseeched into the air, hoping that would make you somehow grace me with your presence. I proceeded to pump myself faster, using the precum that was accumulating on my swollen tip as lubricant, making my cock slick and shiny— only a mere imitation of how your juices coated it.

Running my tongue over the spot where your scent lingered, I squeezed the base of my cock to prevent myself from coming already. “I need to taste you, baby. Please, please, please.” I felt pathetic having to recur to these methods again, but the desperation you caused in me was mind-boggling. The stimulation was too much for me, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I removed your underwear from my face before I started stroking my cock with them, feeling it pulse, knowing those panties that were now touching my member, were once so close to your pretty cunt.

“Please, come back to me.” Wincing, I felt my cock throb painfully, my tone laced with exasperation. Salty tears welled my weary orbs, each drop a testament to the growing ache of your absence. The pain of not having you with me becoming unbearable with every passing moment. I can no longer endure not having you. It was in this moment that I saw clarity, I deemed taking drastic measures necessary if I wanted to hold you in my arms once more.

“F-fuck, baby. I’m gonna come! You gon’ take daddy’s cum?” I whimpered, feeling like my cock was about to burst from excitement. My movements were lacking coordination at this point and I rutted into my hand as my cum started tainting your panties, shivering as my toes curled at the delightful sensation something as simple as your underwear brought to me. Clinging to your sheets, I breathe as I attempt to control my breath, feeling my remaining tears subside.

As I continued to lay there I started getting flashbacks from our last day together. The day our relationship ended.

“We need to talk.” Your voice echoed through the room the moment you stepped into my place, and my heart leaped, its rhythm quickened with the weight of impending confrontation. You were finally ready to address what had happened at the store with your best friend. I had been dreading this moment, enduring all these agonizing days of anxiety. It was clear you had reached the end of your patience, unwilling to bear the mental turmoil any longer.

I cleared my throat, striving to make my voice sound firm as I feigning ignorance. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” I asked, summoning the courage to meet your face. My heart burned at the sight of your distressed expression on your face. I was so accustomed to seeing you always smiling so prettily at me that the contrast was a reminder of how big of a mistake I made. Perhaps I should’ve found a more subtle way to drive you away from your friends without causing this heartache.

You glared at me as you took a seat at the dining table, and I swallowed hard, sitting across from you. “Never did it ever cross my mind that I would have a conversation like this with you Toji.” You began, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you laced your fingers together in front of you. The disappointment and anger in your tone cut deep, but remained quiet as I allowed you to continue.

“You saw me cry and complain day after day about my friends and you knew. You knew the reason they stayed away from me, yet you still let me suffer.” You let out, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Sweetheart—“

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. You’re not allowed to utter another word until I am done talking!” You demanded, raising your voice. My eyes widened in astonishment, for you had never spoken to me in that tone before. The look of betrayal on your face was unmistakable, and I knew it was all my fault.

“She told me everything you said to her that day on the phone, Toji. And you sent someone to threaten her too?! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You exclaimed, disbelief etched across your face. I couldn’t meet your gaze, my eyes falling to the floor. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt on your usually bright expression. “Gosh, you can’t even look at me. I didn’t want to believe it, but the way you look right now is proof enough for me.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head.

“And if that wasn’t enough, you already knew that I knew!” My mouth was agape. As those words left your lips, my heart plummeted to my stomach, and I was sure I looked like a deer caught in headlights.

What?

No, no, no.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that, sweetheart. You though you were so slick, didn’t you?” You spat, running a hand through your hair in frustration before continuing. “I saw you, Toji! You were following me and I know you heard our conversation. You knew I was aware of what you had done and fucked me right after I got home from the store like nothing even happened!” By now, you were full on sobbing and I felt a foreign tightness on my throat, as if it was closing up, making it hard to breathe.

It literally felt like a knot in my throat.

Wait, why does my face feel wet?

My eyes felt like they were burning. Salty tears were cascading down my cheeks as my chest tightened, each breath shallow and uneven. I could feel my face contorting with a mix of surprise and agony, muscles twitching involuntarily. After failed attempts to stifle the sob that rose from the deep within, it escaped. I felt a hollow ache in my throat and all I could see was a blurry image of you.

For the first time in my life I was crying.

“Really? You’re crying? This isn’t the first time you’ve followed me has it, Toji?” You inquired, a painful expression painted in your tear stained face. I couldn't keep lying to you any longer and I would most likely regret admitting to this, but I did. All I could manage to do was shake my head, making you burry your face in your hands as more sobs were released from deep within your chest.

“Fuck! How many times? How long?” You questioned, rising to your feet, slamming your hand against the table. I shook my head, refusing to answer as I bit my lips to prevent more cries to leave my lips. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I could only pray this was all a nightmare and that I would wake up from this torment in the morning with you cuddled up in my arms.

“Answer me! How. Long.”

I gulped hard, before mustering up the courage to say, “A while.”

You ran a hand over your face, before taking a deep breath. “W-what does that mean? How long exactly is “a while”?”

“A c-couple of months before we met—“

“Before we met?!” You jaw slacked, and you regarded me as though I hailed from another realm entirely. This entire ordeal forces me to entertain the notion that abducting you might have been a more merciful path to our togetherness. Initially challenging, yes, but eventually, Stockholm Syndrome would set in, and you would come to love me… wouldn’t you?

“Y-you’re t-telling me that night we met at the b-bar, wasn’t the our f-first time meeting?” You stuttered, nerves overtaking your body. Why did you look so scared of me? Hadn’t you realized by now I would never do anything to harm you? At least not intentionally.

All I did was shake my head before I standing from my seat, striding toward you. Your tear-filled eyes widened with fear as my towering figure loomed over you. You instinctively stepped back bumping into the kitchen counter, clutching the edges of it so tightly your knuckles paled.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need to be afraid of me.” I started gently, cupping your face in my large hand, eliciting a whimper from you. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done out of love.” And it was true. I knew I’d do anything to keep you by my side, feeling loved, cared for and protected.

“P-please, stop touching me, Toji.” You pleaded, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t ask me that, sweetheart. You’re breaking my heart.” I responded, my voice heavy with emotion. “At one point of my life, I felt undeserving of your love. I thought such an angelic, beautiful creature would never notice a scum such as myself. But that night at the bar, you approached me! You actually came to me! Oh, baby, I was over the moon.” I confessed, a tearful smile gracing my face as I recalled that pivotal moment.

“I knew from that day on that we were meant to be. My feelings weren’t one-sided, sweetheart. You love me just deeply as I love you.” You regarded me with a look that might have seemed incredulous to others, but I didn’t mind. I would do anything to be grazed upon by those breathtaking eyes wether they held love, hate, fear, or disgust— it didn’t matter, as long as they were fixed on me.

“No. No! Let go of me, you fucking creep!” Your sobs echoed through the room as you pounded on my chest, but I refused to release you, even when my heart ached from your insult. Wrapping my arms around your trembling form tightly, I pulled you closer, my grip firm. With a desperate resolve, I sank to my knees, unwilling to let you slip without a fight. If I had to beg for you to stay I would as much as necessary. Every line in your face contorted with pain, your eyes filled with tears that mirrored my own desperation.

“Please, sweetheart. Don’t leave me.” I pleaded, lifting my gaze to meet your grimacing expression.

Without warning, you swung a bottle of Sake from the countertop, striking me across the head with a resounding crack. Stunned and reeling from the blow, I staggered back, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected violence in your part. You fled, sprinting towards the door in a blur of motion and fear, leaving me behind.

I sighed heavily, sitting up on your bed as I rubbed my tired eyes. The events of that day kept replaying relentlessly in my mind, each replay sharpening the ache of uncertainty. You still didn’t know the truth about my occupation, and that haunted me. If you reacted so vehemently to me stalking you, I shudder to imagine your response if you discovered the full extent of my actions. How would you react to me being an assassin? How would you confront the revelation that I was not only stalking you, but taking lives for you, eliminating obstacles in our path to being together?

For now, there’s no need for you to know that information.

I am going to fix this.

Fix us.

I have to say, sweetheart, you really did a number on me with this one.

Who would’ve thought you’d be my most challenging bounty? Two whole weeks— that’s how long it took me to find you. Never in my life had I spent this long perusing a target, but it’s all right, I enjoyed the chase. I felt adrenaline I hadn’t felt in years, a blend of anticipation and thrill surged through me with each lead I followed. Each time I felt closer to you, my body vibrated in excitement. Even amidst my longing for you, the thought of even spotting you from afar felt invigorating.

Now that I found you there was no way I would allow anyone to separate us. Anyone including you.

You were currently passed out in the motel bed while I stood by the window smoking. The soft glow of your phone illuminated the room as I scrolled through your debit card statements, I noticed you had been hopping from one motel to another. Each entry told a story of desperation and fear, a relentless effort to escape from me. A pang of hurt pierced through me as I realized the extent of your actions. You were really spending all of your savings to get away from me? I had believe, perhaps naively, that you harbored genuine feelings for me. Yet, here was the undeniable proof of your running, of your desire to sever our bond.

It seems I was wrong. Love wasn’t something you felt for me, at least not yet. If you didn’t surrender your heart to me willingly, then I would have to take matters into my own hands.

Next to you, on the nightstand, I had bestowed a wonderful gift for you.

Your best friends’ severed little head.

In my desperation, I had gone to her apartment, to try to get information about you out of her. Yet that bitch kept refusing and refusing to cooperate. Each denial chipped away at my patience until there was none left. When it became clear that persuasion was futile, she left me no choice but to break into her apartment to get the information myself. Seething at the lengths I had to go to because of her obstinance, I rummaged through her belongings and electronic until I found a train booking to a town around two hours away when I looked through her laptop. It was definitely for you as it had been forwarded to your email. Dumb bitch.

That woman had an uncanny talent to get under my skin, so I got under hers. Literally.

Doll, if I told you I enjoyed making your friend scream in terror, it would be an understatement. I’m a man of my word. She knew what would go down if she ever came in contact with you again. I’m merely fulfilling my promise. I do have to admit that cleaning up the mess was a pain in the ass, but I withstood it— for you. I’m not even sorry for what you’re about to witness, it was time for you to see the real me. I tried to be better for you, sweetheart, I really did, but if m being honest, you bring out the worst in me. And I love it.

I wasn’t born to be good and you weren’t born to change that. Our fates were intertwined in a dance of contrast, but expecting you to turn me towards light was a fool’s errand. I am who I am and no one— no matter how pure— could change that. I can only wish for your acceptance and comprehension. No matter what you chose to feel for me, I would keep you by my side and show you the same love I always have. Because you’re the only thing I love in this wretched world.

I heard you begin to stir awake, small whimpers leaving your lips as the effects of the drug I had administered you started to fade away. A smirk crept across my face, flicking the remains of my cigarette out the window before striding to were you lay. You squeezed your eyes before slowly opening them, and I couldn’t stop my heart from surging with joy as our eyes met for the first time in weeks. Gods, I missed you.

Your eyes widened when they met mine, and you instinctively crawled back towards the headboard of the bed.

“Mornin’, sleepy head. Slept well?” I questioned as I watched you trying to writhe yourself out of the bed, bumping into the night stand making your friends’ head flop to the ground. Your eyes widened impossibly further and you let out a high pitched scream, covering your mouth with both your hands. “Sweetheart, you need to be more careful. I got this gift just for you and now it’s on the floor.” I tskd before lifting the head up by the hair, dangling it in front of you.

Harsh sobs started escaping your lips as you realized who it was.

“Why are you crying, doll? Don’t you like it?” I asked, feigning disappointment. You shut your eyes and I could tell you were praying this was all a nightmare, but I’m not a nightmare. I’m real and I’m here to stay with you. “Come one, settle down now, baby. You wouldn’t want anyone else to end up like her, do you?” You immediately shook your head. “Yeah that’s what’s I thought.” I said through a chuckle, before setting down the head on the nightstand once again. I sat down on the edge of the bed, itching closer to your trembling form. My hands reached out, cupping your tear stained cheeks. Your skin felt cold and damp beneath my touch.

“W-why a-are you d-doing this, Toji?” You stammered, your voice trembling with horror. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to create some semblance of a barrier between us, your eyes wide and pleading for an explanation.

“Sweetheart, everything I’ve done for you is because I love you.” I explained softly, my voice laced with the usual tenderness I always addressed you with. “In order to protect our love I’ve been forced to turnt to these measures. It’s the only way to keep us together, to ensure that nothing and no one can come between us!” You were shaking your head in disbelief and I could tell you were starting to feel nauseous. Guilt started washing over me as I realized what I had just made you go through, so I offered you a sincere smile before saying, “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll get rid of it and she’ll be out of our sight forever.”

I planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, savoring the moment as I inhaled your intoxicating scent as I lingered there. I had never forgotten how addicting it was. A fragrance I had never forgotten, one that was engraved into my memory and haunted my dreams when you weren’t there. Every thing about you was intoxicating and if you were going to be the death of me, I would gladly allow you to kill me. If loving you meant risking everything, even my own demise, then I embraced that fate with no hesitation.

You are my addiction, my sweetest vice, my sweetest heart, and I willingly surrender to your enchantment. For in your arms, I found a love worth any sacrifice.

I grabbed you by the hair just like I did on our first night together, but this time with a firm grip. “Now, Reader, I’m gonna need you to make a decision.”

Are you going to choose to love me or am I gonna have to force you?

[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

I stumbled upon this post by @godletmebeanf1wag (thank you for the idea!) a while back and was inspired, so here's my interpretation of it.

I also listened to Speak Up by Pop ETC on repeat while writing this entire thing, so I encourage you to take a listen. I feel like it ties in to parts of the story well :)

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst (the prompt is a spoiler enough), Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, ****Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present, Innuendos, Allusions to + Vaguely described sex so avoid accordingly. Will add more CW to each chapter if needed. ****Nothing inappropriate will happen between Vessel Itadori/Sukuna and reader in the present because he's obvi a minor and her student. All romance/physical interactions between reader and Sukuna will take place in flashbacks when he's in his true form.****

WC: 3.8k

Chapter 1

Many, Many Years Before Present

There are beams of golden sunlight that stagger through the gaps of deciduous trees, and if you look closely, dust and debris haze them past the point of being diaphanous. In the midst of them, your caravan is paused at the gaping mouth of the woods. Two paths diverge from the worn dirt road in front of you. The one to the left would keep you all deep in the coverage of foliage and darkness. The other leads you to a bustling village that remains unbothered, and you can just faintly hear the noise of it from where it lies below a sloping hill. 

You suspect your presence in this one would produce the same reaction as all the others before it: the bowing of knees, faces full of fright and wonder, and the same hushed whispers of barely concealed unrest that are shared in the shadows. Your choice would be to avoid it altogether, but the decision is not left to you. 

 “Must we?” 

You lift your face up towards your husband, and he is already watching you from the corner of his lower eye. The other stares straight ahead and into the awaiting village, his vision infinitely more capable than your own. He doesn’t answer you right away, but surely he could hear the wariness in your voice. Weeks of traveling through newly acquired lands is never something you would grow fond of. No matter how gilded the tents or plush the bedding, neither would compare when a palace is what you call home, and you are eager to return to it. 

“Sukuna?” 

You tentatively try to garner his attention, to pull his focus off what lies ahead and onto you. You reach out to lay a hand on the arm not concealed by his robes when a sussaration of fabric alerts to you Uraume’s sudden presence in front of you both. The clenching of your teeth sends small bursts of pain through your jaw when you realize that you are going to be outnumbered by your husband’s most trusted advisor. 

They bow quickly and by the time they are upright, Sukuna has nodded his permission and they cross their arms primly into their sleeves. 

“We must proceed through the village. Establishing your authority is paramount in these outer lying areas.” 

When you breathe out a sigh of annoyance, Uraume’s head jerks from Sukuna to you, and though their expression is perfectly impassive, their eyes hold an almost imperceptible hint of disdain. 

“Such majesty demands to be worshiped.”

You do not necessarily disagree, but the idea of parading yourselves in front of people who are less than keen to see you leaves a sense of unease in your stomach, and the unflinching way Uraume keeps hold of your eyes does not abate the sensation. Sukuna would never permit disrespect towards you—not from anyone—but he does not deign to involve himself in child-like skirmishes, and Uraume makes sure to keep your interactions as close to such as possible to go undetected. 

Sukuna answers with a single, elegant nod of his head and you have to hold your tongue to prevent yourself from voicing your contradictory opinion. He would listen to it, consider it even, but you know such conversations were best left to be had out of the public eye. 

“We continue forward,” Sukuna calls out, and his voice carries loud and authoritatively through the trees. Uraume bows again and then disappears as quickly as they appeared, leaving the both of you to continue leading the procession out from the woods. 

“Fret not,” he murmurs, lifting his arm just enough so you could slide your hand into the crook of his elbow. “I assure you all will be well.” 

When you arrive at the outskirts of the village, the entirety of the caravan behind you, people stop in their tracks to gape and stare. Mothers yank their children behind their legs while men’s hands twitch towards whatever part of their body their weapon is tied to. Sukuna sweeps his eyes from side to side, taking in old wood structures and stalls offering various goods, and people duck their heads and fall into bows, unwilling or unable to keep their gaze on the sight before them. 

You suppose it is not the rich, plum-colored fabric of your matching robes as they drag and dance over the ground the two of you walk on, nor is it the lengthy procession behind you. The sheer sight of Sukuna must be what drives these villagers to their knees or draws muttered curses from their lips. 

“A monster,” they hiss under their breath, and if you were anyone else you would agree.

 Sukuna towers above everyone, and the breadth of his shoulders are in of themselves inhuman. If it is not his sheer size, however, it must be the second set of arms that rest just below the first and the extra pair of eyes underneath the others while the right side of his face resembles something akin to disfigurement. Maybe it is even the markings, black and jagged and appearing even in places not displayed currently. He is a beast, in simple terms, vicious as he is cunning, and the villagers would be wise to be wary. 

Most are, from what you can see. They cast down their eyes and swear fealty to an inhuman king, too afraid to do anything that could be considered dissent. The ones that tremble in his shadow and speak blessings to your feet offer no threat to your life, nor Sukuna’s reign. 

But there are those that lurk in shadowed corners and whisper under bated breath to one another. They lower their heads just enough to disguise their contempt, but you feel the heavy cloud of tension and anger amongst those who sow seeds of discontent, and it drives you closer into Sukuna’s side. 

“We should not have come,” you whisper to him from between lips that hardly part in an effort to not displace the expression of serene boredom from your face. Sukuna says nothing, but he slips his lower right arm across your back. “Uraume is wrong. These people are beyond displeased.” 

Nervousness hastens your words and your eyes jump from every darkened alley to each barely concealed scowl that could be spotted in the crowd.  Where allegiance and obedience aren’t found, violence and retribution are surely promised. 

You tug gently on Sukuna’s sleeve. “We must do something to assuage their fears, to bribe them into forgetting their hatred for us,” you insist, and normally you would scale back the desperation in your voice if a tingling at the back of your mind is not convincing you that something is going to go very wrong. You bounce a nail off the pad of your thumb, and the sting of it distracts you.

“We can discuss this back in our tents,” he says back quietly, but his tone, while not angry, brooks no further questioning on the topic. The dismissal stings some, but after nearly three years of marriage, you have learned a thing or two when it comes to swaying the opinions of your husband. 

So you say nothing more and focus on walking forward with a plainly demure smile on your face. When the dirt road begins to spread wide again on the opposite end of the village and gives a glimpse into another section of forest, some of the earlier anxiety slips from your mind. But, something has you turning your head back briefly, and there’s not much to take in from what you had not already: the careful blankness of Uraume’s face from where they trail a couple feet behind you and Sukuna, the mindless shuffling of attendants and servants, and then the gathering crowd at the very back. They watch intently as the procession leaves the village and apprehension swirls in your belly again as you turn forward.

Hours later, in the dark of the night, the makeshift camp is silent as everyone rests from the day’s journey. You and Sukuna are sequestered in a grandiose tent in front of all the others. It is large enough to hold a bed sized for the two of you, a table and chairs in a corner, as well as a cushioned stool and small vanity off to one side that holds what you need to refresh from the day. Strategically placed candles give off a diffused glow to the space and allow your eyes just enough light to do your tasks. 

You turn from your seat at it and clear your throat to catch Sukuna’s attention from where he is sitting across the room from you. Documents are spread out on the table and he scribbles onto a piece of parchment every few minutes. When he looks up and sees the expectant tilt of your brows and the bounce of your leg as it’s crossed over the other, his lips quirk to one side in amusement and he sets down his work to focus on you. 

“You are unhappy with me,” Sukuna remarks. He sits back against the chair he is in and tosses his upper arms along the back of it lazily while the hands of his lower arms twine together in his lap. “Speak.” 

Your response is an undignified snort, and you poke your tongue into your cheek to refrain from snipping at him. On weary legs, you stand from your stool and smooth your nightgown down your knees before padding across the plush carpets draped over the ground to lean against the side of the bed closest to your husband. 

“Not necessarily,” you start, and this time it’s Sukuna’s turn to arch an eyebrow at you. “Maybe a little…perturbed.” 

He sighs and glances around the walls of your tent, and while you know he would hear you out, he is also growing exasperated with the repeated conversation. The two of you walk a delicate balance between the supreme authority Sukuna holds and the wisdom you have to share. You would not dare to undermine it, nor question it in front of anyone should it be perceived as disobedience or weakness on his part. But in the seclusion of your chambers—or your tent as of late—you cautiously advise him with lessons on humanity. 

“I have assured you, there is nothing for you to be worried about.” 

“I understand that,” you say, though you shake your head, “but something has felt wrong today, Sukuna. These villages are not pleased with you taking over rulership of the lands. A revolt would not be unexpected.” 

His expression hardens and he slowly leans forward onto his elbows as he keeps eye contact with you. “You are well aware of what would take place should such a thing happen.” 

Murder. Violence. A complete decimation of anyone who fails to comply with his sovereignty. 

You do not fear your husband, and you are not concerned for your safety in his presence, but it would be a lie for you to say that he does not intimidate you. He is otherworldly, something predatory in nature, and your body, separate from your mind, is all too conscious of how plainly human (prey-like) you are compared to him. The stillness of his body as he observes you and the deep, threatening edge to his voice sends a shiver down your spine and you have to swallow audibly before you can continue. 

“I am aware,” you tell him, and he seems marginally pleased at hearing you admit it. “It’s within your authority and I would not question it.” 

It pains you to say so, if it isn’t entirely true and untrue. You have yet to reconcile the burden of the status you hold as Sukuna’s wife. You lie awake some nights wondering when you might get used to it. Though maybe you never will, and will end your days wishing you could have had just him without all of it. 

“It is just…” you trail off, unable to get the words out of your mouth as something hot wells up behind your eyes and tightens your throat. Sukuna looks mildly alarmed at the emotion on your face and begins to stand, no doubt to come comfort you, but you hold up a palm to him and he freezes. 

“I can empathize with them, Sukuna.” Your voice is a little shaky, but you blink away the moisture on your lashes and straighten your countenance the best you can to appear strong and able in front of him. “I was one of them once, before you found me and chose me. I am human first, yet you were able to gain my trust over time.” 

Sukuna’s features soften and he sits back upright. You have no delusion in thinking that your husband is weak for anything or anyone, but you do suspect that the love he has for you gives glimpses into a shred of humanity that he maybe once had and allows no one to see. 

You smile weakly at him and tangle your fingers into the fabric of your nightgown. “I will not get in the way of what you decide is best, but perhaps we can approach this differently—bring with us provisions and goods or whatever it takes to earn loyalty first before resorting directly to bloodshed. That is all I request.” 

Sukuna is quiet in the wake of what you said, and there is a pensive edge to his face as he considers you. When a minute goes by and he has said nothing, you push off the side of the bed and turn to get into it, feeling both dejected and ignored. Before you can, a large hand catches your shoulder and halts your movement. You look back and Sukuna is standing over you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“This will make you happy?” he asks. 

You nod once, but say nothing, and Sukuna lets out a defeated exhale through his nose. He crosses one set of arms while he reaches towards you with another, and you can do nothing but comply as he spins you around to face him. 

“Very well,” he concedes. You feel a victorious grin twitching the corner of your lips, so you duck your head in mock bashfulness in order to hide it. “I’ll discuss it with Uraume tomorrow.” 

The victory is short lived and your mouth falls into a pout as you snap your head up towards him, and you know that contempt is pinching your features. Sukuna simply laughs and his own smile breaks through the rigidity of his face. 

“Their opinion will not come before yours, do not worry,” he soothes, brushing his hands up and down your shoulders, but your eyes narrow at the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Swear it?” you ask haughtily. You tip your nose into the air and watch as his gaze turns flinty. Sukuna lowers his head closer to yours and the hands on your shoulders drop to your hips to clench the skin there through your nightgown. 

“My word is not enough?” he growls, tightening his hold slightly. You just shrug and offer him a coy flutter of your lashes. Teasing Sukuna isn’t something you take part in regularly, but if a bit of attitude on your part is enough to rile him up, then you’re happy to indulge in your attempt at retribution. 

He must see the mischievousness on your face because he pushes you backwards onto the bed. Your breath leaves you in a hushed oomph and your wrists are being held by your ears at the same time Sukuna is using his lower arms to gather your nightgown in his hands and shove it up your thighs. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, even though you know quite well what is about to happen as Sukuna transfers your wrists into one of his hands to kneel between your knees. His answering smirk is nothing short of wickedly promising, and the gleam in his red eyes has heat curling in your stomach. 

He lowers his head to kiss along your thighs and you just barely hear him murmur into your skin, “such majesty demands to be worshiped.” 

Some time later, when you lie across Sukuna’s chest sated and only half awake, you are faintly aware of a hushed voice calling out for him from the entrance of your tent. The hand in your hair stills and he shifts you to one side of him as he answers back quietly. You nuzzle further into the crook of his arm and somewhere in the back of your consciousness, you recognize the voice as belonging to Uraume. They whisper back and forth to one another before Sukuna is slipping out from under you. You groan out a protest and he places a kiss to your temple as he draws the blankets higher up your back. You nestle under them to search for the remaining body heat he leaves behind, and you are already drifting off into deeper sleep when he promises you that he will return soon. 

The faintest rustling outside your tent is what wakes you first. It is apparent that Sukuna is not in bed with you, and from the dying glow of the candles, you know that some hours have passed and it is well into the middle of the night. You blink fog from your eyes and roll from your side onto your back. His side of the bed is cold, and while the blankets have kept you warm enough, the soft breeze from the small vents in the tent chill your skin. With another roll, you reach down on the other side of the bed and pick up your discarded nightgown off the floor. 

You’ve just pulled the fabric over your head and settled it down your body when another scuff of something pricks your ears. You go still and squint in an attempt to peer a bit better into the darkness of your tent. When a moment goes by and no other sound is heard, you sit up against your pillows and consider what it might be. 

Sukuna would never leave you unguarded, nor would he venture too far without taking you with him for the sake of your protection. Yet, goosebumps still erupt over your skin and icy nervousness begins to prickle at the back of your mind. The tent itself looks the same as it did from earlier. Sukuna’s robes lay scattered on the floor and some wayward pillows have ended up at the foot of the bed. Nothing else is displaced and the flaps of your tent remain tied shut. 

The idea of calling out for a guard crosses your mind and you swing your feet over the edge of the bed when a glint of steel from a dark corner captures your attention. You can just barely see a shadow slink towards you as you inhale a great breath, intent on letting out a cry. Terror floods your mind and body, and for a moment, your muscles lock in place. When it’s too late, you try to frantically crawl backwards away from the moving figure. Your last thought is to wonder if Sukuna is near enough to hear the snick of a blade being drawn and the beginning of your scream before it’s cruelly cut off. 

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

Three Years Before Present

An hour or two outside the city, there is an inn that sits nestled on the edges of a quiet forest. Evening has brought reprieve from the summer sun, but along with it, a humid rain shower dampens the earth and muffles the sound of joyful laughter and a jazzy piano drifting out from inside the dining lounge of the inn. Just beyond, stringed lights that glow golden are strewn between a cluster of fruit trees, and surrounding them are a modest grouping of white wooden chairs with flowers draping along their backs. A couple hours before, when the rain hadn’t yet come and the early sunset broke through the trees, your closest friends and peers gathered in those chairs to watch you exchange vows with the man who’s chest you now lean against. 

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” 

Your voice is hushed, but you angle your head back and it knocks gently against Satoru’s shoulder. He hums in response and you feel it where his cheek is pressed into your temple. His arms are bracketed around the tops of yours and cross over your chest. The delicate train of your dress is looped over his forearm to keep it off the damp patio, and the white of it is a stark contrast against the black of his tux. 

Just behind the two of you, cheers sound through from inside as a cork is popped, and you giggle at the celebratory noise of your friends. Dinner has come and gone, cake has already been served, and now that drinks flowed, mingling and dancing took over the rest of the evening. When your cheeks had flushed warm and Satoru’s tinted pink, you had covertly pulled your new husband by the wrist out a backdoor to find solace in the dark of the night and the relative quiet of outside. Now, as the two of you look out over the very spot where you traded rings just some time ago, the solitude is a welcomed opportunity to bask in the entirety of it. 

“It really is,” Satoru murmurs. The breath of his words skitter over the shell of your ear, and he squeezes you tighter to his chest when you shiver. “I’m sorry it started to rain, though.” 

You release a content sigh and snuggle in deeper to the warmth of his arms. When you turn your head up towards him, Satoru answers you with a kiss, and the heady rush that comes from feeling his lips against yours makes you wish it was time for the two of you to hurry away for your own night of celebration. But, there is still merriment to be had and people waiting to share their congratulations, so you break away from Satoru when the air in your lungs is no more and the adoring smile on his face certainly matches yours. 

“Don’t be,” you whisper, and he cocks his head curiously. 

The smell of rain and the sound it makes when it hits the roof of the inn or bounces off the leaves of the trees is something you find pleasant. You’ve always enjoyed the rain, and now is no exception, no matter if it forces your reception inside and mists your skin. 

“I’m not bothered by it,” you assure him, and Satoru seems appeased. You take another moment of quiet to glance back out at the hazy glow of the lights and inhale the crispness of the air before the two of you need to return to the party that’s going on inside for the both of you. 

“Besides,” you add, squeezing Satoru’s hand, and the cool metal of his wedding ring makes the skin of your palm tingle. “Haven’t you heard? Rain on your wedding day is a sign of good luck.” 

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

If you take the time to read this, thank you very much! Most of this fic is written, so it shouldn't take too long for the rest of it come out once it's edited.

Also on Ao3.

I'm happy to tag anyone who is interested in the following chapters.

[juniperskye]

It had to be You.

Sneak Peek: Modern Day AU! (kinda think late 90’s early 2000’s) Running into your ex at your mutual friends’ engagement party, that was something you had expected and were mentally prepared for. Him looking that damn good and the chaos that ensues…you were not expecting. Flashbacks are bolded.

Eddie Munson x Artist! Fem Reader

Angst/ Fluff (at the end)

Word count: 2301

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, past relationship, mention of reader having a troubled past, Steve, and Nancy are together in this (they work ok…sorry not sorry), nobody is dead!, no use of y/n, lovers to enemies to lovers, Eddie is unnamed until the end...idk I felt that it worked for this story (despite you knowing it's him), let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You were elated when you got the call. Steve had called you to let you know that he had officially done it, he had asked Nancy to marry him! You knew he was planning it, hell, you helped him pick the ring for her, you just didn’t know when. You expressed your excitement and congratulated the happy couple asking them about the possibility of an engagement party. Nancy had let you know they weren’t planning one but would love it.

You immediately begun planning the party, creating an evite and curating the perfect guestlist. You called Enzo’s to see if they could accommodate a party of this size. Once that was confirmed and booked, you made sure to call in some reinforcements.

You had called Robin, Chrissy, Max, El, and Dustin. Chrissy had stayed in Hawkins; she went to the community college there and now teaches at Hawkins high. Max, El, Dustin, along with some of the others (Will, Lucas, and Mike) were finishing school at Indiana University, Robin had gone to Butler, and currently resided in Indianapolis. Nancy and Steve had recently moved back to Hawkins after finishing school in Chicago, Nancy was offered an editing position at the Hawkins Journal.

You on the other hand had been living in New York City ever since graduation. It hadn’t happened exactly as you had planned it…which is the exact reason you were nervous to return to Hawkins.

“We’re gonna graduate, then we will pack up the van and hightail it out of here babe.”

“I was thinking New York. You know…that way you can pursue your music, and I can pursue my art.” You replied.

“That sounds perfect baby! Just a few more weeks and we can go.” He grabbed your hand and the two of you laid back against the pillows in the back of the van.

**One Month Later**

You pulled up to the trailer with your car packed full of your belongings. You were ready to get to New York and start your life! You were even more excited to start your life with him. You stopped the car and made your way up the steps, knocking gently.

“Hey kiddo.” Uncle Wayne greeted.

“Hey Wayne! Is he ready to go?” You asked.

“He better be, with all the noise he was making. Head on back.” Wayne gestured for you to go down the hall.

“Babe! Are you packed and ready to…” your voice trailed off as you entered his room, noticing the severe lack of moving boxes or suitcases. “What the hell? Why aren’t you packed?”

“I uh, I don’t think we should go.”

“What do you mean? We’ve been planning this for months; you were the one who always said once you graduated you would get the hell out of here.” You shouted.

“I know, but I just, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I can’t just leave Uncle Wayne, and who’s to say we don’t get to New York, and everything goes to shit? At least here we know things work.” He challenged.

“We’ll never know if we don’t try. Also, we’re stronger than that, just because we move doesn’t mean this is automatically falls apart.” You replied.

“I can’t go, why don’t you understand that? It’s not going to work. We can stay here and build a life. I have a job at the garage, and you can paint here.” He huffed.

“Well, I can’t stay here.” Your gaze drifted to your feet. “Hawkins is too small, we were destined for something bigger, which is why I need to go to New York.”

“So that’s it then? You’re just gonna leave?” He muttered.

“No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to make me feel guilty for following through with our plans. If anyone should feel guilty here it’s you for tricking me into thinking that you were actually going to come with me. But instead, you’re bailing on me, just like everyone else.” You bellowed, quickly making your exit.

That day you had left for New York and didn’t look back. You had travelled to Indianapolis and Chicago to visit your friends, but you hadn’t stepped foot back in Hawkins since then, and you really weren’t looking forward to it.

You spent the next week coordinating with everyone, in hopes of planning the best engagement party for your friends. You guys worked on decorations, who would get the happy couple to Enzo’s on time. And in just two weeks, you’d find yourself standing in the nicest restaurant in Hawkins Indiana.

“Oh my gosh, you look gorgeous!” Chrissy squealed, jogging over to embrace you.

“I could say the same about you! Congratulations by the way.” You beamed, gently caressing Chrissy’s now prominent bump.

Chrissy and you caught up with one another, and as the others arrived you greeted everyone and began decorating. Pretty much everyone had arrived except for Robin, she had been the person you assigned to get Steve and Nancy to Enzo’s.

You had been placing the last floral centerpiece on its designated table when you heard his voice. Loud and boisterous as always, greeting Dustin, and the other boys as he made his way back to where you were setting up.

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” Max inquired.

“The day I left for New York.” You replied, shaking your head as you straighten out the vase.

“You know he came to New York.” Dustin mentioned, having butt into your conversation. “It was about six months after you left, he went to the studio you were renting and saw you painting, he said that he didn’t want to mess anything up for you and that he wanted to make something of himself before he saw you again.” Dustin concluded.

You couldn’t help the look of shock that took over your features. “It doesn’t change anything. He made his choice.” You said with a sense of finality and walked away.

Fifteen minutes later, Robin entered the restaurant with Nancy and Steve trailing in behind her. The room erupted in cheers for the newly engaged, the two of the were passed from person to person for a warm embrace. There was nothing to do but smile at the radiant glow that the two of them wore. The longer you were surrounded by all this happiness, the tighter your chest became, you needed air.

The minute you reached the exit, you felt relief, the cool night air surrounding you, finally allowing you to take in a deep breath. You took a few steps away from the exit and leaned up against the brick building.

“Was the cheerful mood suffocating you too?”

You’s recognize that voice anywhere. It was once something that made you swoon, but now it felt like a knife to the heart. You wanted nothing more than to run far away and hide forever. You had really hoped that by the time you needed to confront him, you’d have already moved on and started a new life.

“I didn’t realize someone was out here. I’ll just go.”

A hand gently gripping your wrist stopped you. Your head whipped around, fully ready to tell him off, but the look on his face stopped you dead in your tracks. He wore an expression that you were very familiar with. It was the same one that stared back at you when you looked in the mirror. Sunken eyes, dark circles, dull looking skin, clearly missing that glow that your best friends currently wore.

“Please just talk to me.” He pleaded.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You murmured.

“Then listen. Please, I have something I’d really like to say to you.” He released your wrist and his gaze shifted up his eyes begging you to stay.

“You have five minutes.” You didn’t have it in you to hold back the eyeroll.

“Thank you!” He hollered. “Okay sweetheart, where do I begin? I um, the reason I didn’t go to New York with you was because I was scared. And I know that sounds like some bullshit excuse, but I mean it. I was terrified that we would get there, and you would become this successful artist and I’d just be like this bum that was holding you back from being great. I just figured that if I stayed here that I’d have the band and the job at the garage, and nothing would have to change. Only everything changed, the guys graduated and went off to college, the band broke up and worst of all, you were gone. I really fucked it all up, which is why I worked so hard to make something of myself.” He explained.

“Dustin told me you came to New York. Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked.

“When I saw your studio, I saw you working on this piece, it was a big charcoal piece, and I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to fuck things up for you more than I already had.”

“The charcoal piece, it uh, it was. Did you see what the piece was?” You pressed.

“No, I didn’t. I bet it was great though. Sweetheart, I uh, can I show you something?”

“Okay.” You nodded.

He led you over to a motorcycle, he grabbed the helmet and went to put it on and turned toward you, offering you the spare. You glanced from the helmet to his face, and he offered a subtle nod. You placed the helmet on your head, and he reached up to tighten the chin strap for you. You let out a sharp breath at the contact, releasing a cough to try and cover it.

The two of you rode through the city, stopping in front of a garage you didn’t recognize. The logo was in large red letters outlined in white. A bright contrast of the black painted brick. He assisted you off the back of his motorcycle and led you into the building.

“This uh, this is my shop.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“So, uh after high school, I kept selling for a while, saving up my money. Then Rick got picked up and sent to prison. So, I got the job at the garage, I worked as many hours as possible, putting in the work. Anyway uh, I got pretty close with the owner and he uh, he left me the place when he died two years ago.” He replied.

“This is great. I’m really happy for you bub.” The nickname slipped out faster than you could comprehend.

“I have something else I’d like to show you.”

“Okay.”

This time, he drove you through a neighborhood you recognized from your youth. It housed beautiful (affordable) family homes, the ones that you had imagined raising your family in. These were the homes you still visualized when you pictured your future. And he was the man that you woke up next to in these images.

When he pulled into the driveway of one of the homes you were confused. He had always expressed his distaste of these homes. You had always known that the reasoning behind his upset was that it was the childhood he was robbed of.

Once you were dismounted his bike, he ushered you to the front door, gesturing for you to enter. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked around the home. You couldn’t help but notice all the details in this particular home, it had a large bay window with a window seat, a big open kitchen, and a breakfast nook.

“What is this?”

“It’s not done, I still have some work to do. But Wayne has been helping me put in all the things we had talked about. Upstairs we put in a clawfoot tub, and we’re working on the flooring.” He gushed.

“This is all a bit much, I uh, I…” Before you could finish, you were out the door and desperately trying to catch your breath in the front lawn.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’ve been working on myself, trying to be better for you. I was gonna come to New York when the house was finished and talk to you and ask you to come home.”

“Bub, this isn’t home anymore. Hawkins isn’t my home. It never was. That’s why we planned to go to New York. Ugh! I just…fuck! You bailed on me; don’t you get that? You did the one thing that I begged you not to! You broke your promise and you let me believe that I meant nothing to you.” You sobbed.

“Sweetheart, I know I fucked this up before, but please give me another chance? I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this all up to you.” He begged.

“It’s my turn to show you something. Drive me back to Enzo’s.” You demanded.

He drove you back to the restaurant and pulled up to your car per your request. You dragged him to the trunk and opened it to reveal a folded-up canvas, a box of your art supplies and a photo storage box. You reached into the trunk and grabbed the folded canvas, slowly opening it to reveal the piece you had been working on when he had come to New York. When you opened it completely he let out a breath.

“It’s me.” He whispered.

“They all are.” You stated.

You opened up the photo bin to unveil hundreds of photos of your work, all varying portraits of the man in front of you. You looked down to your shoes, watching as you dug your toe into the gravel parking lot.

“You see, I realized something through my art. Hawkins isn’t my home. But New York isn’t either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Eddie, you’re my home.”

Let me know if you want to know what happens next!

[air--so--sweet]

Okay, another layer to the Klaus is a germaphobe because he's afraid of dying thing that's just occurred to me - this is a new body. When Reggie rebooted the universe he gave them new bodies - hence all their scars and tattoos disappearing etc (also Klaus' body was kugelblitzed so it literally doesn't exist any more). When he comes out of the elevator he says that he feels the best he has in years, and that's because this body hasn't undergone years of drug and alcohol abuse (we don't know what age Klaus started using but we see him rolling a joint under the table at thirteen in the flashback where Five first time travels so he used for minimum twenty-one years).

So, Klaus realises his near death experiences were, in fact, death experiences, and if he were a normal person he would be dead many times over by now. Then he loses his powers meaning he can die while at the same time getting a new, healthier body that makies it very apparent to him just how much damage he had done to his existing body. It's the perfect storm of new found fear and vulnerability alongside having something more to lose than before (because in theory a new body means no physical addiction either).

Honestly, his line to Luther about being fragile because he was just dead takes on new meaning. Is his concern solely for Luther, or is he projecting?

[yuri-is-online]

Do you think the twst universe has had a moon landing? If I tell idia or ace and duece or azul that we put a bunch of shit into space and then some people on the moon in the 60s, and that they're planning on establishing a base on the moon by 2026, do you think they'll freak out?

"Damn that moon looks lit asf"

"Yeah...oh yeah I've been meaning to ask, did yall have a moon landing?"

"....a what?"

"A moon landing. You know, like some country or something put people on the moon and then brought them back home?"

"...The moon."

"Yeah-"

"The freaking moon in the sky"

I am so glad you asked this because I have unironically been thinking about this for a while now, we must be buying our brain cells from the same store.

So. Gather around kids because no. Yuri, theorist of some sort that she is, does not believe Twisted Wonderland has had a moon landing and allow me to explain why:

It would be really funny. But I guess if you want actual evidence I have that too.

In Book 6-76 we see Idia's flashback where he recreates Ortho and he mentions that one day "he'll be able to go into space unassisted. He treats this as a big deal and it is also treated as a big deal when Ortho manages to do just that in the Wish Upon a Stars event.

This might be a bit dumb but space exploration, rocket science, and astronautics aren't listed as internship possibilities by Cater when he's naming things in Book 7-4. Granted he does list IT which could maybe fall into those categories but he also specifically mentions ocean surveying, which is hyper specific and could have been replaced with astronautics.

Realistically speaking, what reason do the people of Twisted Wonderland have to go to the moon? I feel like if magic is real, as are mermaids, dragons, beastfolk, and ruins that potentially contain magical artifacts and curses... your government probably has other things they want to spend their money on, and it's not going to the moon.

As a side note I remember once reading a fantasy book about a Griffin? Whose goal was to visit the moon in a magic bubble or something but I don't remember much more about it other than that. Space travel isn't something most fantasy settings do.

I think if you told Idia that was possible he might get it into his head that he wants to be the one who puts someone on the moon, he already wanted to send Ortho to space so hey why not? Ace is actually really practical sometimes so I imagine he'd point out the bit about how Yuu's world is able to focus on things like that because they don't have magical issues to worry about while Deuce would just be impressed and as for Azul-

think he's got a new fear unlocked. The moon in the fucking sky WHY DO HUMANS INSIST ON FLYING PLACES ALL THE DAMN TIME????