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[cuntressgoingdigital]

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

i feel like abby would thrive with a really annoying pestersome girlfriend. a yapper with no off button. 

at first she found your endless chatter a little irritating. to you, silence felt cold and awkward and you were trying hard to befriend her. when patrols were uneventful you’d start on your little tangents, analyzing the philosophy of whatever book you’d read recently. she never understood what you were talking about, but never had the heart to tell you to be quiet. you always took her nods and “mhms” as the go ahead to keep talking. you weren’t too good with social cues. it took some time, but abby started to find your observations endearing. 

you loved to be big spoon and lay in the dark with her. when her insomnia acted up and her thoughts grew too loud, she knew you didn’t mind being woken up for a bit just to chat. 

“would you still love me if i were a bug?” your eyes were still closed, the need for sleep hanging on your eyelids. you rubbed abby’s back trying to coax her into relaxation. 

“yeah probably. i think i would keep you in my pocket.” 

“would you still love me if i was infected? like full blown fungus face, completely out of my mind, nearly unrecognizable.” 

“i would let you bite me so we can be together forever.”

“what if i were a shambler?”

“i would happily breathe in your spores. can’t be any worse than you smell right now.”

you playfully bite her shoulder. 

[frostyhelltime]

Alastor Realizes He Has Feelings For You Part 2

Alastor x GN!Reader

AN: I'm so happy so many people seem to like this so far! I hope you all enjoy this part 2! Now I'm gonna get back to working on my inbox. I'm loving the requests I'm seeing come in so feel free to keep sending them in! ❤️ And as I said in the preview I tend to write Alastor from more of a demisexual lenses since it's on the ace spectrum and I also largely consider myself demisexual if that helps to know for this.

Link to part 1 is right HERE.

Alastor is a planner. Always has been and likely always will be. He has different plans and scenarios for almost every occasion, and has backup plans for most any issue he could ever encounter. Suffice to say, it made him a terrible person to try and out maneuver. But it was especially difficult when you weren't even aware of the game of chess he was playing.

So he does what he does best, plan. It's easier to focus on the goal of ensnaring you instead of really analyzing his own complicated feelings. He starts small, not wanting to throw you off too harshly. It had to be subtle. He starts doing things that wouldn't…necessarily be odd, considering his personality, but they're still things he hasn't really done before. 

Such as pulling your chair out for you when you go to sit down. It's not too odd. A gentlemanly thing to do. But he can tell from the look on your face that you're struggling to remember if this is a new behavior or if he's always done it and you just never noticed.

He went out of his way to accompany you when possible, more so than usual. Especially if it was into a less desirable part of town. But still, nothing changes. It honestly vexes him because he doesn't even quite know how he fell for you, so he couldn't even attempt to replicate it to make you fall for him in turn. 

Perhaps subtle was the wrong way to go? Perhaps he should be a little more…forward? 

He again starts small, not wanting to startle you, but it seems it does regardless. In hindsight him reaching for you first instead of the other way around was certainly something novel and new, so it made sense it surprised you the first few times he placed his hand on the small of your back as you both walked, a gesture of affection, protection, and possession all at once.

He would almost wonder if he was doing something wrong if he hadn't seen that delightful little dusting of pink across your cheeks each time he does it.

It's then he realizes that due to his….general nature and lack of romantic relationships, that you're likely trying to justify all of his actions as extremely friendly rather than the subtle flirtations he meant them to be.

Which annoyed him until a hint of mischief crossed his face with a realization. If you thought he was just being extraordinarily friendly…he could perhaps be even…more bold without fully showing you his hand yet.

Yes, he could certainly have fun with that.

He's thinking later on that day about how he could torment you with his affections when he passes by the library and sees you struggling, quite poorly, to reach a book. 

His grin grows imperceptibly wider as he silently approaches behind you. He weighs his options on how he should go about it and eventually decides to lean over, until his lips are almost flush to your ear.

“Do you need any help mon cœur?” He almost purrs in your ear and he has to admit there is a certain thrill and exhilaration unlike what he's used to feeling, when you jump from how close his voice is. 

“A-Alastor! I…I didn't realize you were there.” You managed to squeak out as you felt his claws rest on the crook of your waist. The proximity, touch, and whispered voice is clearly a lot for you since he can see your blush has even spread to the tips of your ears. 

How cute. He wonders what other parts of you can so plainly show your feelings because of him? Ah but he's losing focus now.

“Oh, my apologies. How rude of me not to greet you! Hello there.” He hasn't moved his mouth an inch, his voice brushing against you like velvet as he speaks. As soon as he does actually greet you, one of his hands captures yours and brings it to his lips, and he's  able to hear the slight hitch in your breath as he does so. It's certainly a sound he's quickly become a fan of, that he wants to hear over and over again. He once again allows his mind to wander for just a moment on other ways he could have you make that sound for him. But then he's focused once more, his hand dropping yours and snatching the book you appeared to be reaching for with ease before leaning back down to whisper in your ear.

“Is this what you needed mon cœur?” He continues to drawl sweetly in your ear as he repeats the pet name that still manages to make you flush and fidget nervously despite not knowing what the hell he was even saying. He noticed the pet names seemed to make you feel some type of way when they were French, even though he's called you darling and dear and various other things in English more than a few times. But no matter. He doesn't really care about the reasoning behind it, just excited he has another tool in his arsenal to ensure you turn your gaze to him instead of some pathetic sinner that thought they had a chance with you. He can feel his ears flatten slightly in agitation at the mere thought, but thankfully you're unable to see in your current position so he gives nothing away.

He sees he isn't the only one to get lost in his thoughts, since you haven't responded yet, and he's oh so curious to know what is going on in that head of yours. But another time. For now he was making such progress, he feels.

His chuckle in your ear is dark and low, but warm like honey before his voice rings out again, laced with amused curiosity.

“Mon cœur?”

You snap to attention at that, as if just remembering he was even there.

“Y-Yep! That's the book! Thank you!” 

The little stutter was cute, he admits. Especially when he knows he caused it. But he thinks this is enough for now, to help lead your mind down less…platonic roads. The idea was to have you approach him, to maintain that illusion of control. Like you thought of it, and approached him and he'll pretend to entertain the idea before giving it a shot.

But it's fine you were taking a while to grow the courage. He was a very patient man, and the way he was clearly driving you up the wall with his back and forth actions was certainly entertaining enough in the meantime.

“Glad to be of service!” His normal radio host cadence was back again as he pulled away, his touch leaving you entirely, and he's sure it leaves a cold spot in his absence that he's sure you notice, since he can feel the same sharp contrast of the lack of warmth on him from where you're no longer touching.

He seems so cheerful and carefree that it almost makes you wonder if you had hallucinated this whole interaction. But by the time you spin around to talk to him, he's already gone. But even from the shadows he can see the way your flushed face and wide eyes search the room for him, hand over your heart as if you could will your heartbeat to slow. He's certain you must be feeling a sense of whiplash from the drastic change in demeanor and he watches as you lean back against the shelves, holding the book and shaking your head a moment.

“I feel like I'm going crazy…” He watched you mutter and it only made him smile more. So his actions were effective after all. You were just trying very hard to be respectful and polite to him since you knew his nature so well…an endearing gesture that just made him want to sink his claws even deeper into you. 

Knowing his actions affect you just emboldens him further. When you share coffee the next morning with him and the two of you chat, tucked away in whatever room seemed to strike your fancy that day, he notices you seem to be avoiding his eyes, your head tilted down.

He tuts a moment, putting his coffee down and using one claw to tilt your head upward to face him, using his other hand to brush your hair away from your face to stop obscuring his attempts to look at you.

“There we are. Much better.” He smiles brightly at you, even as he sees the crimson rush to your cheeks. He lets his hands linger a little longer than needed before he releases you and picks his coffee cup back up again, as if what he's done wasn't abnormal in the slightest.

“A-Alastor…?” He hears you ask tentatively, and he thinks his patience is finally going to pay off.

“Yes mon cœur?” He asks, tilting his head to the side in an innocent manner that is a laughable contrast to what you know of the radio demon's legacy and reputation.

“I..” He leans forward slightly, eager for your expected confession, his eyes drifting down to your throat as he watches you swallow thickly from nerves.

“...I…n-nevermind. I…forgot what I was going to say.” You eventually give up and his shoulders slump just the slightest bit in disappointment although his smile doesn't falter, although it is strained.

“...No worries. When it comes back to you, I've always got an open ear available for you.” He assures you, although inside he sighs. How can he make you crack? He wants to make you crack before he does, to maintain that illusion of control and so you don't realize the power you possess of how much he could give you if you only asked. He's thinking again, a peaceful quiet settled over the both of you as you each are lost in thought over your individual predicaments.

Perhaps…he could distract you from your date, maybe even ensure you miss it anyway, and perhaps see him in a less…platonic way at the same time. He could simply…take the place of this undeserving date of yours. 

“...You know…I had heard there was a new jazz club that had opened up recently, and I know no one else here has enough taste to appreciate the music appropriately so I wouldn't want to take any of them.” He uses his free hand to wave off the notion before you can even suggest it. 

“Perhaps I could take you with me? Perhaps I can show you how well I bet we could cut a rug together? It's been quite some time since I've gotten to enjoy a dance with a worthy partner.” He says, putting particular emphasis on the last word, eyes partially closing as he makes sure to look at you with a more seductive gaze to further entice you.

You always respond to his compliments so well, a nervous fidget, perhaps a bite of your lip as you think of how to respond, and of course that cute little blush he was quite fond of by now.

“That…” You swallow again, opening your mouth a moment as if searching for words before you continue speaking.

“That sounds…lovely. Just…let me know when to be ready.”

This time his grin is more reminiscent of a spider watching a fly heading right into its web as he gives you all the details needed of when and where.

When the time officially comes, he's delighted that you show up in the lobby at the appropriate time for a few reasons. It meant you were going to go, was the most obvious reason. But the second reason was that unless this idiot wanted to take you dancing on a Sunday night…you probably broke your date with them to be with him. A fact that certainly makes his ego puff up as he takes your hand and kisses it, a routine that feels almost natural now.

“My…I'll be the envy of everyone there with this beauty on my arm…” He chuckles, smiling wider when he sees that tell tale blush spread down to your neck as you stumble over a ‘thank you’. He offers his arm to you, which you politely take as if he were escorting you anywhere normally. Him initiating contact, even if it was small, was also beginning to feel more natural to you both, even if it was small touches.

He can tell by the way you act that you can sense this is different from other friendly outings you two had been on. Good. He was beginning to doubt his abilities to charm for a little bit there. Perish the thought.

There are also, admittedly, things that he has begun to notice are different as the night goes on as well. Had he always been able to feel how warm your hands were or had he just never noticed? It's easier to notice now as he twirls you around to the lovely jazz band playing up on stage, hand never letting yours go entirely as the two of you dance.

He's also glad to see those pesky nerves of yours finally seemed to be wearing off and you were relaxing with him again, like you had before he began attempting to quietly pursue you. Your smile and laugh were far more carefree and jovial as he dips you, arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you from falling before he tugs you back up to continue.

With you relaxing, he finds himself mirroring that demeanor and he's overall less anxious and tense, and much less focused on ensnaring you. Now he was just…having fun. No planning. No ulterior motives. Just having a good time. It's actually quite nice to enjoy the feeling in the moment.

There are a few brief moments where you tense, for instance when his face comes just a little too close to yours, and he can tell you're clearly wondering if he'll close the gap or if you're just imagining things that aren't there. Or when he gives a particularly sultry gaze and accompanying grin as he pulls his lovely dancing partner closer when the distance between you two becomes greater than he wants.

But overall it's an absolutely lovely night and once you've both had your fill you step off the dance floor, Alastor taking a moment to check the time and grinning deviously to himself. It was far too late to meet with up with whoever your date had been, and his ego is admittedly fluffed knowing he was the one able to distract you so thoroughly, as it should be.

As the two of you sit down at one of the tables in the corner, each grabbing a drink from the bar first, you're still laughing with absolute glee over the wonderful night so far.

He enjoys picking your brain as he sips his rye, head resting gently on his free hand as he nods and agrees and puts in his own two cents on this new jazz club. It feels delightfully normal and cozy. While he does quite enjoy flustering you and watching you flounder…he had missed these easygoing conversations he couldn't really seem to have with others. You had been walking on eggshells around him this week, and he didn't realize how terribly he missed this type of interaction with you until now.

It's only after awhile he pretends to check the clock and feigns shock before turning back to you.

“Oh dear! I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. I hope you didn't have any other plans I might have ruined.” His chuckle is easygoing, thinking he knows the answer but wanting to hear you say it anyway. He wants to hear you say you chose him, instead of him just silently knowing.

But you just shake your head, grin still plastered across your face before you take a sip of your cocktail.

“Nope! This was my only plan tonight and I couldn't imagine anything better!” Another delighted laugh from you as confusion crosses his own face immediately.

He cocks his head to the side a little bit, trying to determine if you're lying or not. Although he has never known you to lie to him before…

“Really? It's not nice to lie to me. I thought we were close. No prior commitments to anyone broken to be here with me tonight? No silly little paramour trying to steal away your attention?” He puts emphasis on the word, putting his drink down and using that hand to gently grab your chin and tilt your head up to look him in the eye so he could analyze your expression more acutely. He doesn't mean to say the word ‘paramour’ with such disdain, it simply creeps out into his voice.

But now you just look confused as well as you look up at him.

“No…? I mean. I told Husk about this place and mentioned wanting to go this weekend to check it out. But I didn't say I had anyone in mind to go with me. If anything I was going to ask you, knowing this is your kind of place.” You answer carefully, unsure what the correct answer is supposed to be, and he freezes, hand on your chin tightening almost imperceptibly as the gears begin to turn in his mind.

There's a soft flare of radio static interference that sounds from him that makes others nearby give him more room than they had previously.

You, however, are unafraid. You've become too close to him to really fear he would do anything bad to you. Right now you're mostly just concerned for him and this odd behavior.

His hand drops away from your face, as he takes another sip of his rye, taking that time to collect himself and think of his next course of action.

He should have known better than to trust one singular source of information without double checking…damnit. He had been so wrapped up in his stupid newfound jealousy that he hadn't even stopped to ask Husk if he was absolutely positive that's what you said. He thinks the idiot must have misheard you, and he foolishly accepted it at face value.

But the wheels are turning in your head now too, mouth falling slightly agape as your eyes widen, an outlandish possibility entering your mind that claws at your curiosity so desperately you can't stop yourself from blurting it out.

“...Alastor…Were you trying to stop me from going on what you thought was a date?” You ask, and the excited anticipation in your voice could not be mistaken even though you did try to hide it.

“Of course not.” Is what comes out of his mouth immediately as he pulls away defensively, his ears flattening slightly, two things you pick up on. He's unaware how hard your heart is beating right now as you try to summon the courage to speak your next thought, part of you still thinking it so impossible you shouldn't even bother asking.

“...Are you…jealous over the idea of someone dating me?” You inquire curiously, quirking your head to the side and snaking one hand across the table and taking his hesitantly, unsure if you're crossing some invisible line. You're unsure if you're just firing a shot in the dark and he'll laugh at the notion. But somehow the atmosphere feels far too heavy for him to joke about something like this. It's felt heavy like this all week and you wanted to know why.

But the question just has him put his drink down a little more harshly than he meant to. But he doesn't pull his other hand from yours, the touch a little soothing to him as he deals with his scattered thoughts.

“No.” He says concretely while looking you in the eye, as if daring you to suggest otherwise.

But you still aren't convinced…not with how he had been acting this past week, and this new knowledge. Perhaps…you could try and be a little bold? Perhaps test the waters yourself?

“...That's a shame. I wouldn't have minded if you were.” You state quietly, his ears almost straining to pick up the sound of your voice over the music. Your gaze is pointedly looking away,  unsure you would have had the courage to say the words if you had been looking directly at him.

You startle and look back at him, specifically at his hand holding yours because his grip has become noticeably tighter. He's moving closer again, to the shorter distance he had been before he pulled away and you swallow thickly, wondering if you had made a mistake.

His voice is low, and you can oddly see conflict present in his eyes, as if he was warring over what decision to make.

“...and if I say I am?” His voice is heated and almost husky as he speaks, looking you directly in the eye again as he leans even closer now, his face mere inches from yours now.

You're struck speechless by this admission, not even dreaming of that response actually being a reality, and your voice is stuck in your throat as you scramble for a response. Your breath hitches slightly as all you can do is stare at him a moment trying to process this as he waits for your answer, unreadable in this moment.

Your other hand is shaking as you bring it up to rest on his cheek, watching him close his eyes a moment before opening them again as he leans into the touch. It gives you the courage to speak that thought that feels almost too silly to put out into the world.

“...I…I would say you have no reason to be.” You're leaning just the smallest bit forward, as if to silently give permission but not wanting to take that first step yourself and cross his boundaries without permission. 

It just made him adore you more.

He bridges the distance, eyes closing as the hand not holding yours is placed on the back of your neck to push you closer, to silently assure you this was no accident.

He can feel your hand gripping his tightly now in response and he can't help but grin into the kiss as you begin to reciprocate once the shock has worn off, lips moving against his with an eager hunger before eventually parting. There's something almost tender in the way he grips your neck, that makes you melt into the kiss with him with ease.

He has to admit he's definitely a fan of this look of yours. Wide eyed, breathing a bit hard with a flushed face and slightly parted mouth as you gazed at him. He wants to see it again.

“...Good. I'm not the type of person who does well with jealousy I've discovered.” His voice is chipper and normal, as if he hadn't just taken your breath away for a moment. Just the whiplash of going from one side of him to the other has you laughing as you lean back, the hand that was once on his face now covering your own.

“...I'll keep that in mind.” You grin, spreading your fingers just enough to peek out at him. 

Further discussions could wait until tomorrow of course, of boundaries and labels and everything that comes with it. But for now this is enough. His cards are on the table yes, but yours are laid bare for him to see as well. So he relaxes again into his seat, leaning back but not taking his hand back from yours before looking at the dance floor again.

“...Do you feel like dancing again mon cœur?” He asks, already tugging your hand up to bring you with him. He's eager to dance with you again without having to pretend his intimate and more romantic touches were accidental this time. He hears you giggle before taking another sip of your cocktail and then you're tugging him down to be eye level with you. 

“I'd love that, mon amour.” You teasingly breathe into his ear, and you're rewarded by this time getting to see his breath hitch instead of it always being you. You may still not know what he's been calling you, but everyone knows that term of endearment, and there's an almost sinful sense of pride that you were able to pull that type of reaction from him, and now you're even more eager to dance with him again, to find out what else you can see that no one else has before.

You think you understand all the teasing touches he gave you that left you wanting all this week, probably trying to test the waters and bait you into confessing yourself, you can likely guess now. If this is how he felt seeing you react all those times you couldn't blame him.

Perhaps it's only fair to begin to repay him for those tormenting whispers and touches, you think as you two step onto the dance floor, your hand placing itself on his chest before slowly gliding up further and then over his collarbone to rest gingerly on his shoulder for support, your fingers digging in slightly to the flesh of his back. It's hard to tell in this dimly lit lounge but you swear there's a tinge of red to his face, and it just further strengthens the hunger you feel when he growls softly and leans over to whisper to you.

“Tread carefully my dear. I have every intention of approaching this courtship as a gentleman. Do not make that impossible for me to remember…”

Taglist: @zzzykiek @alastorthirsty @sirens-and-moonflowers

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 (You're here) , PART 23

In "Excalibur"

The black knight arrives as expected. Arthur this time lifts the gauntlet before any other knight can do so, much to Merlin's dismay, but at least he now knows what to do.

Kilgharrah: (watching Merlin arrive) Oh, until you finally deign to see me, young warlock.

Merlin: I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls. Many things happened.

Kilgharrah: (analyzes Merlin and realizes) Another old mind in a young body.

Merlin: (confused) What?

Kilgharrah: You are not from this time, are you young warlock?

Merlin: (sighs) I should have known you'd notice. Look, if you're going to give me the destiny and coin speech, I swear that-

Kilgharrah: I find it useless to talk to you about something you already have very present. However, I'm sure you didn't come here just to greet me. If so you would have come much sooner.

Merlin: (takes out the sword Gwen gave him) Arthur, the Once and the Future King of your prophecy, is going to duel with a wraith. It's not in your best interest for him to die, so I need you to reforge this sword so that Arthur won't die in combat-

Kilgharrah: I'll help you.

Merlin: I remind you that your revenge is with Uther, not with… Wait, you'll help me? 😧

Kilgharrah: You have a very strong argument. I can't deny that.

Merlin: And you won't try to convince me to free you in exchange either?

Kilgharrah: I don't want you to see my help as conditional, young warlock. I imagine that's why you've avoided coming to see me. I'll just ask you one thing. Where you come from, am I free?

Merlin: Yes… (Thinking) After you almost turned Camelot into ashes.

Kilgharrah: That's all I need to know. (Raises the sword towards him with magic) A sword forged with my assistance will have great power.

Merlin: I know.

Kilgharrah: Normally I'd say you can only guess, but in this case I know you are very aware, and yet there's still so much you don't know.

Merlin: I know that in the wrong hands this sword can cause great evil. I won't let that happen.

Kilgharrah: That's not what I meant. (comes closer) Do you know why you and Arthur are two sides of the same coin?

Merlin: (rolls his eyes) Yes, yes, the prophecy. We are the half that makes us whole. Arthur is my destiny. I already know all that. 😒

Kilgharrah: Indeed, but the curious thing about the sides of a coin is that, despite being literally glued together, they never see each other.

Merlin: (tired) I don't have time for this. Are you going to forge the sword or not?

Kilgharrah: (forges the sword) Hear my words, the sword must be wielded by Arthur and him alone. You must promise.

Merlin: I promise.

Kilgharrah: (returns the sword already forged to Merlin with magic)

Merlin: (looking at it wistfully) It's just as I remember it (looks up at Kilgharrah again, smiling) Thank you, Kilgharrah. (leaves)

Kilgharrah: Any time, young warlock. (Thinking) It is when the sides of the coin see each other that tragedies occur.

Time skip. Right after Merlin gave the sword to Arthur and just before he duels the black knight.

Merlin: (finishes putting Arthur his armor on) Ready, sire.

Arthur: (smirking) Won't you give me a hug?

Merlin: What?! 😳

Arthur: For luck, of course.

Merlin: (very red and confused) Since… since when are you so fond of hugs? (thinking) You were never this affectionate before...

Arthur: (opens up) I admit I didn't always like them. Wrong, I always liked them, but, as a prince, I'm not supposed to be affectionate. At least that's what my father always said. "Physical contact with royalty is a privilege, it cannot be given lightly" that was his phrase.

Merlin: (realizes, sad) The king doesn't… doesn't hug you much, does he? (Thinking) Now that I think about it, I don't remember a single time he did it.

Arthur: (thinking back) I think the last time he did it I was… 5 years old? Oh, don't look at me like that. I understand why he thought that was the best way to raise me, but it wasn't until recently that I realized… that's not how I want to live the rest of my life, or how I would raise my kids, you know? I don't want to deny myself the giving or receiving of affection, at least not when it comes to the people I care about.

Merlin: (understanding) That's why you hug Morgana more often now.

Arthur: And you. (Extends his arms) So? Will you give me my lucky hug or not?

Merlin: (laughs softly) As if you need it. (but he hugs him, thinking) I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me this and that you want to change. We've never... we've never hugged this much before... It's... it feels good. (melts in the hug)

Arthur: (thinking) I thought I'll never have you like this ever again... (pulls him closer) I don't want this to end. Gods, let me hold him forever. Please

Merlin: (thinking, scolding himself) Stop it! What will Arthur think? (gently separates the hug and says) There, you can go now.

Arthur: I don't think that's enough luck.

Merlin: (confused) Huh?

Arthur: I'm going to need this too (takes Merlin's neckerchief off)

Merlin: What?! 😨 What are you doing?! (He tries to get the neckerchief back from him) Give it back! Arthur! 😠

Arthur: (raising the nekerchief and dodging all of Merlin's attempts to take it from him) I need all the luck I can get, Merlin. And what's luckier than a favor?

Merlin: (very red, but pretending to be upset) Yes, but that's supposed to be with the favor of a lady! Not my-That's not how it works!

Arthur: Would you prefer that I ask a Lady hers?

Merlin: That's not... You don't need it! 😡

Arthur: I could die.

Merlin: (raises his voice in sudden panic) You are not going to die! (Composes himself) Sorry.

Servant x: (enters) Sire, they are waiting for you.

Arthur: I'll be right away. (puts the neckerchief around his arm) Merlin, help me, will you?

Merlin: (ties the neckerchief around Arthur's arm, blushing)

Servant x: (gives Merlin a knowing smile and then turns to Arthur) Your highness (bows and leaves)

Merlin: (sighs, thinking) Great... more rumors...

Arthur: Will you be cheering for me? 😏

Merlin: (snorts) You wish. (Softens his expression) But I'll be there. Just to make sure you don't ruin my neckerchief, of course.

Arthur: (starts to leave, but turns to Merlin) My lady (bows with a flirtatious smile and leaves)

Merlin: (in shock with eyes wide open) What the…? (turns red with fury and embarrassment) This clotpole is making fun of me! 😡

Arthur wins, of course. Merlin was definitely not clapping and cheering loudly and he definitely did not blush furiously when Arthur decided to give back his neckerchief publicly.

"He is taking this joke too far" is all Merlin can think when he gets back to his chamers, but he sleeps with a smile on his face and the neckerchief curled in his hand.

In "The moment of truth"

In Arthur's chambers. Arthur writes at his desk.

Merlin: (enters without knocking) Arthur!

Arthur: (startled, spills the ink with which he was writing on the parchment)

Merlin: Sorry... 😅

Arthur: (sighs, thinking) Some things just never change. (Says) Be useful for once and bring me another scroll, will you?

Merlin: (hurries to take out another scroll and gives it to him)

Arthur: (takes the parchment) Any special reason why you decided to burst into my chambers so suddenly or did you just miss me? (moves his eyebrows flirtuosly)

Merlin: (blushes) I...(thinking, freaking out internally) WHAT IS HE DOING?!😳😱😫. (Says, nervous) I just wanted to ask you if you could give me a few days off so I can visit my mother, sire. (doesn't look at him in the eye)

Arthur: (frowns, concerned) Is something wrong? You seem anxious.

Merlin: It is nothing, my lord. I just miss seeing my mother. I haven't been able to see her since I came to the castle.

Arthur: I see, that's understandable. (He puts the parchment aside and stands to look Merlin right in the eye, seriously) Now the truth.

Merlin: (thinking) Damn it! (sighs, giving up and says) I got a letter from her recently. The village I come from, where my mother lives, is being attacked by raiders. I promise I won't be gone for long, just until I'm sure she's save. She's my mother, Arthur. I need-

Arthur: I understand. You have my permission.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you, Arthur (About to leave)

Arthur: Oh, take this (throws him a bag with supplies)

Merlin: (looking at the bag) What...?

Arthur: (Searches the room and grabs another bag) And this (throws it at Merlin too) and this (goes to Merlin and hangs the last bag around his neck). Yep, that's all, let's go.

Merlin: (confused) Go where, Sire?

Arthur: To Ealdor together.

Merlin: What? No! (Drops all things) Arthur, you can't come with me. The king will not allow it.

Arrhur: Did you really think I'll let you go alone?

Merlin: (thinking) I mean, you did came with me before, but no so soon! (Says) But, Uther-

Arthur: Don't worry about it. I'll solve it.

Merlin: But I need to go alone!

Arthur: Why?

Merlin: (thinking) Because I need to be able to use magic without you watching me! (Says) I…

Arthur: (thinking) I don't know how advanced you are at your magic, I'm not going to risk something happening to you... And I have to reduce numbers. (snorts) I know you think highly of yourself, Merlin, but I don't think you can take down a mugger patch all on your own.

Merlin: (thinking) If you only knew... (Says) You don't have to do it.

Arthur: True, but I want to.

Merlin: (smiles) I know and I really apreaciate it. Truly. But it's not just a matter of want. Ealdor is in another Kingdom and if there was a word that the Prince of Camelot went there- (thinking) The treaty with Cenred will be broken and it would be my fault again.

Despite Arthur never telling Merlin this in his other life, he knows Arthur going to Ealdor to help him played a great part in that to happen. He remembers Uther was furious with Arthur when he got back and throw him in the dungeons for a week. When Arthur finally got out he had several bruises on his skin. It was the first time Merlin ever consider killing Uther if even for a moment. Arthur never hold any of that against Merlin but that didn't make him feel any less guilty. He can't make Arthur go through that again.

Arthur: No one has to know I'm the Prince. Plus we could take it as a trip to Ealdor and I can finally meet your mother.

Merlin: (confused) Why do you want to meet my mother?

Arthur: Can't I meet my manservant's family?

Merlin: (shuts his mouth helplessly, thinking) Oh, well, at least it'll just be Arthur and me.

Time skip. Outside the castle.

Merlin: (yelling at Arthur) YOU BROUGHT YOUR KNIGHTS?! 😡

Knight 1, 2, 3 and Leon: (standing awkwardly a few meters away of Arthur and Merlin)

Knight 1: He's yelling at the prince.

Knight 2: I think the servant doesn't like us very much.

Knight 3: I feel bad third.

Leon: I'm not even surprised anymore.

[Welcome to: ✨breaking the fourth wall space✨

Me: Hi!😊 I'm the author of this crazy story! An I created this little space so the characters can break the fourth wall, without affecting the trama! They will mostly use it just to complain to me though.

Knight 1, 2 and 3: (to the author) Hey! when are you going to give us names?! 😡

Me: (to the audience) See? (to the nameless knights) Well, I would but, you see. Normally I just give names when they... last.

Knights 1, 2 and 3: (who literally die in the "Le Morte d'Arthur" part) What does she mean? 🤨

End of ✨Breaking the fourth wall space✨]

Arthur: (To Merlin, but raising his voice so the knights hear him) Of course! We are going to carry out a formal inspection of Camelot's border (looking at Merlin meaningfully), or did you expect the King to send his only Prince and heir to the border alone, Merlin?

Merlin: Oh... Oh, right!(nods exaggeratedly and turns to the knights smiling, then looks back at Arthur with too much enthusiasm) Then we better hurry, my lord. (He gets on his mare)

Arthur: (gets on his horse too)

Time skip. Merlin and Arthur riding ahead and the rest of the knights riding a few meters behind.

Merlin: (Just loud enough so Arthur can hear) Did you tell them?

Arthur: Tell them what?

Merlin: 😑

Arthur: Of course (pauses) not.

Merlin: Do you realize that technically we will be invading the territory of a neighboring kingdom? Not only is it a delicate matter, it could escalate into a diplomatic conflict! That's why I told you-

Arthur: Don't worry, I have a plan.

Merlin: (opens his mouth)

Arthur: (cuts him) Before you ask me what the plan is, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. (Turns to give a look at the knights) That way they will have no choice but to obey me.

Knights: (feeling a chill down their spine)

Time skip. After two days of travel, they finally arrive at the border.

Knight 2: Uhm… Sire? Isn't this the border?

Arthur: No, it's ahead.

Knight 1: I'm sure we've already crossed the border.

Arthur: Do you claim to know more than me, Sir Innprudence?

Knight 1: No, sire (shuts up)

[Knight 1: (to the author) Sir Innprudence?! 😡 That's the best name you could come up with? Really?!

Me: (laughs a little) He he, yeah, I forgot I already named you in part 16.

Knight 1: I prefer Knight 1 😒.

Me: Too late, I already changed it 😈.

Sir Innprudence: NO! 😭]

In the forest of Escetir, near Ealdor. Arthur stops and dismounts his horse, so the others do too.

Leon: Have we reached the border yet, sire?

Arthur: Actually, we are technically in Escetir.

Knights: WHAT?!😱

Arthur: Yes, we're on a deck mission. I'll explain. Merlin, bring the bags.

Merlin: (brings the bags)

Arthur: (To the knights) Do you see the village there? (points to Ealdor)

Leon: Yes, sire.

Arthur: This is my manservant's home village and it's under attack by raiders. Our mission is to slay them all and protect this village.

Knights: ...

Merlin: Oh gods 🤦‍♂️

Arthur: As you know, it would be catastrophic if they were to find out the Prince and the Knights of Camelot were here. So (takes some clothes out of the bags) We're going to pretend to be mercenaries. (throws the clothes at each of them) and we will tell the villagers that we were paid to defend them.

Sir Innprudence: And who paid us?

Arthur: Merlin, of course.

Merlin: What?!😨 Arthur, no one is going to believe that!

Arthur: Why not? This is your native village, your mother lives here. You have more than enough reasons to want to protect Ealdor.

Merlin: And where did I supposely get the money from?!

Arthur: From your benevolent master, of course. That pays you very generously.

Merlin: You are mad! Completely mad! (Pointing to the knights) THIS is MADNESS!

Leon: Sire, you know that I support you no matter what, but you do understand you are basically asking us to betray the king, right?

Arthur: That's only if he finds out, which he is not going to do.

Sir Innprudence, knights 2 and 3: (hesitating whether or not to inform the king of what is happening)

Arthur: After all, everyone here crossed the border, so everyone here would be in trouble if the king ever found out. Although, of course, I would not receive such a severe punishment because I am the prince and unlike others I am not replaceable.

Knights: …

Leon: Count on us, sire 😊.

Merlin: (shouts) NO! (To Arthur) You are not going to do this! 😡

Arthur: (with feigned confusion) But, Merlin, it was you who asked for my help strongly, don't you remember?

Merlin: (jaw drops at Arthur's audacity, thinking) This son of a- (says) That's not true! (To the Knights) I didn't ask for anything, I swear!

Leon: Don't worry, Merlin, we understand how things happened. (wraps an arm around Merlin) Surely you only asked him for money to hire the mercenaries, but his highness decided to come himself to defend the village for you.

Merlin: No! I didn't ask for anything at all!

Knight 2: (to Knight 3) He is the favorite for sure.

Sir Innprudence: (to Leon, making him let go of Merlin in panic) Don't touch him! Do you want to die?!

Knight 3: We better change.

Knights: (start changing)

Merlin: I'm not...! I didn't...! (tries to explain, but no knight listens)

Arthur: (smiling, amused) What are you waiting for, Merlin? (Points to his mercenary clothes so Merlin dresses him)

Merlin: (goes to Arthur and changes his clothes, thinking) Oh, you're going to pay for this Arthur Pendragon.

Meanwhile in Ealdor.

Kanen: (on his horse, grabbing the harvest sacks) What's this? Where's the rest of it?

Village chief: (on the ground, picking up the vegetables they made him drop) I only kept back what we need to survive.

Kanen: (mockingly) Survive? (threatenly) I'll be back in one week, farmer, and I want to see all of it.

Hunith: (Runs furiously to Kanen) You can't take our food! Our children will starve! I won't let you do this! (Tries to take the harvest sacks) You're not taking any of it!

Kanen: (hits her and Hunith falls to the ground)

Merlin: (arriving on his mare, shouts) Mom! (Furious, mutters a spell) Miere hors.

Kanen's horse: (gets upset, raising his legs, making Kanen fall off him)

Hunith: (hurries to grab the harvest sacks and runs)

Arthur and knights: (just behind Merlin, they get off their horses and attack the raiders)

Merlin: (gets off his mare and runs to Hunith) Mom! (cradles her face) Are you okay?

Hunith: (very surprised and happy) Merlin! What are you doing here?

Kanen: (gets up and rushes towards Merlin and Hunith with his sword, about to sly them)

Arthur: (blocks the attack with excalibur) Don't you dare... (Breaks Kanen's sword with excalibur) even think about it!

Villagers: (looking between fear and amazement)

Kanen: (seeing himself outmatched, decides to retreat) You will pay for this with your lives! (gets on a horse nearby) All of you! (Looks down at Hunith and smirks) I'll see you later, sweetheart.

Merlin: (about to jump beat Kanen up, enraged)

Arthur: (Stops him by putting an arm in front of him)

Kanen: (leaves with the raiders that survived)

Arthur: (Thinking, coldly) He'll be back with more, perfect. (Looks at the bodies lying there, thinking) 295.

Hunith: (hugging Merlin) My son, how good it is to see you, but you shouldn't be here.

Merlin: I came as soon as I knew what was happening (points at Arthur) and I brought help.

Arthur: (introduces himself) Nice to meet you, Hunith of Ealdor, my name is Arthur. Merlin hired me and my men to defend this village.

Hunith: Arthur? Like Prince Arthur?

Arthur: A very popular name, indeed.

Hunith: (smiles) I sincerely thank you for what you're doing, Arthur. You are very chivalrous for a mercenary. (sees the knights in the distance, who are helping the women and children) You all seem very chivalrous to be mercenaries.

Arthur: Uh... We get paid well.

Will: (approaches Merlin) You're still up to the same old tricks? I thought I told you we don't want your kind here.

Merlin: ...

Will: (confused) Merlin?

Merlin: (suddenly breaks down crying)

Arthur: (angry, to Will, ready to beat him up right there) What's wrong with you?! 😡

Will: (in panic, worried) I was kidding! Merlin, that's how we always mess with each other! I did not mean-

Merlin: (his crying turns into laughter) Ha! I got you. (Hugs Will) I missed you too, Will. (Thinking) I missed you so much.

Arthur: (coughs, definitely not jealous) Merlin, gather the villagers, I need to talk to them.

Merlin: (pulls away from the hug) Yes, right away. (about to leave)

Will: Wait. You let him give you orders? I thought you hired him.

Merlin: (in realization and smiles evilly) It's true. (hits Arthur arms) You! How insolent! Is this how you treat your employer? You gather the villagers!

Arthur: (About to yell at him, but remembers that Hunith and Will are there and stops himself) Sorry, I thought you might want to do it yourself. I'll do it right away. (Thinking) Wait until we return to Camelot, you dollophead.

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, this is going to be fun.

...

I know this kind of feels like a filler, but it's important I swear! What did Kilgharrah meant? Can Merlin save Will this time? Will the rest of the Kmights get to have names? Find out in the next episode of ✨"Merlin: the Mistress in denial" ✨

[mars-ipan]

HEY FOLKS!

sooooo. remember when i was posting about being up way too late for a powerpoint thing i was doing with friends? yeah i'm posting that final powerpoint now.

allow me to introduce you all to...

THE KOMAHINA BIBLE

(aka a demonstration in unmedicated ADHD)

120 slides. 163 MB. somewhere between 14 and 22 hours of work. sleep deprivation. influence from @anonzentimes , respected komahina scholar. this bad baby has it all this is a powerpoint presentation summarizing and analyzing just about everything you need to know about komahina in sdr2 (and a bit from adjacent media as well). we go in-depth and we prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that komahina real and love wins (loses?)

WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MAJOR END-GAME SPOILERS FOR SDR2 (AS WELL AS DR1). IF YOU WISH TO REMAIN SPOILER-FREE (OR YOU ARE SOMEONE WHO I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO KEEP SPOILER FREE (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE)) THEN DO NOT VIEW THIS POWERPOINT PRESENTATION UNTIL YOU KNOW. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU HAVING BEEN SPOILED

ok cool! some other things to keep in mind under the cut:

THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED. IF YOU DO NOT SHIP KOMAHINA THAT'S LITERALLY SO FINE I KNOW THERE IS KOMAEDA SEXUALITY DISCOURSE GOING ON RN FOR SOME GODFORSAKEN REASON KNOW THAT I DO NOT THINK EVERYONE HAS TO SHIP KOMAHINA PLEASE I'M LITERALLY A MULTISHIPPER PLEASE. PLEASE DO NOT CRUCIFY ME FOR FUNNY YAOI POWERPOINT

i made this powerpoint in two sittings across 2 days, each sitting about 8-12 hours long

i got about 7 total hours of sleep in that time. not for each day- total. i was mad scientist delirious by the end of this

originally, i wanted to include far more- i wanted to analyze other media in depth (like the stageplays, the drama CD, komaeda's official songs, and even official art and materials) but i did not have the time for it. maybe i will make a new testament powerpoint detailing these as well as fandom analysis but that is not currently in the works

this is a presentation! as such the intended way to consume it is As A Presentation! unfortunately i am not someone who records videos so i cannot present it to you. if you would like to present it to you feel free. if you would like to present it to your friends feel free. if you would like to present it to the internet i'm honored but would like for you to talk to me about it first. cool

the original target audience for this was my friends and not all of them are anime people so. i am using the more english-friendly terms (as well as first names). i don't think this will bug any of you but i'm making it clear anyways

all art included in the presentation is credited with a caption linking back directly to the original artist's account. if you see your art in here and you do not want your art in here: let me know! i will take it down immediately and without question.

i may have missed some details/glossed over some things! if you think i've made a mistake somewhere or have missed something important, talk to me about it! i'd love to discuss it and if i make the new testament sequel powerpoint then i will include your corrections at the beginning :)

a lot of the jokes i make happen in the transitions of this powerpoint. some of them use audio- click on the little speaker icon to play the audio and time the animations yourself i suppose. i'd recommend playing it as a slideshow ^-^

have any questions about a particular point i make? ask me! i will elaborate for you

ok that's all i can think of!! have fun folks :]

[ladybracknellssherry]

Good Omens Deep Dive Ahead! **I have edited and added to this several times now, but "ma point" has stayed the same. Probably every single reblog has a different version of this. It has turned into an absolute BEAST. You might be able to watch both seasons faster than read this at this point 😂😭

---------------------- Okay so I am rewatching S2 right now and golly. I've just noticed something. I'm sure it has already been noticed by plenty of other people so feel free to let me know, link me to some metas, please.

A lot of us have painstakingly analyzed every single frame, statue, clock tick, facial expression, and breath of the final 15. Good. Now we're going to look at the scene in S2E4/The Hitchhiker/1941 when Aziraphale and Crowley are in the bookshop doing their little pre-magic show warm-up roleplay foreplay bit. They're being surveilled by a bunch of half-witted nazi zombie spies. Aziraphale is trying to impress Crowley with his * m a g i c * Crowley is trying really hard to support his Angel.

The Blocking!

Keep in mind the camera angles are not quite the same between these scenes, the dimensions look a bit off because the lighting is completely different and therefore camera settings are different, and some of the furniture has moved a little bit in 90 years (but not much because Aziraphale)

1941 Crowley positions himself approximately / very nearly exactly in the same spot in the bookshop where present-day Crowley stops in the final 15 of S2E6 when Aziraphale says "Crowley, come back." The spot where shortly thereafter Crowley says the awful words that make us cry.

gif by stars-bean

gif by yellenabelova

1941 Azirphale with his little coins is standing in or very nearly in his same relative spot as in that scene, when present-day Aziraphale says "I need you," and "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." And where shortly thereafter he says the awful words that make us cry.

gif by wearecrowley

gif by mabellous

Then Aziraphale gets a touch insecure when Crowley suggests they go to the magic shop because it is "for professional conjurors," and Crowley responds with his "My Nefertiti Fooling Fellow" line of support and encouragement and believing in Aziraphale. And in that moment Crowley stands and walks towards Aziraphale. And they are mere inches away from one another either fully in or very nearly exactly where they stood or rather will stand during the kiss. I'm not gonna post a kiss gif we have all seen it ten bajillion times and I do not need to cry tonight it is a Wednesday.

gif by gigew

gif by ajcrowleys

(I’m getting ahead of myself for a second but seriously, c’mon, just look at this fluff muffin's genuine smile above and tell me if it looks anything like that strained nightmare on his face in the gif below.)

gif by dykefaggotry

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE. And take from this what you will. That happy little 1941 West End Girl with his vanished farthing basking in the glow of what he now knows is his Demon's adoration. Rotate our duo 180° around the bookshop and Az is now primed to move into the position where he gives his frantic The Metatron's not so bad of a dude and Heaven are the Good Guys and Crowley is one of the Bad Guys nonsense ridiculousness that totally walks back on Aziraphale's entire character growth over 2 seasons. Could it possibly visually represent that our favorite little white-winged stim-city cinnamon roll found himself in the final 15 in a situation at a complete 180° from that moment in 1941 when he was so happy and being genuinely sincerely himself and he was about to do something that he really actually genuinely wanted so badly to do and it was GOOD and it was RIGHT. Crowley's confession is obviously such a wildcard. At this point in 1941 Crowley is supporting and encouraging and working with Aziraphale and in the final 15 he is doing exactly not that.

And even more. In both the 1941 scene and the final 15, Crowley has just entered, respectively, a church and Heaven to save Aziraphale in the middle of the blitz/a demon army almost war battle. A massive atmospheric difference is that 1941 happens at night and the final 15 happens in the morning. We'll work on figuring out what that might represent.

And then we have some seriously upsetting parallel Angel/Demon on the shoulder blocking/framing moments.

gif by i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky

gif by inhonoredglory

and

gif by inhonoredglory

And several more of such occur between the two scenes but I simply cannot.

And here's the part where I ramble and try to make sense of this in terms of the theories and fail miserably.

Get up, stretch your legs, have a glass of water, and take several deep breaths in.....and out..... You good? Let's go.

I've said it many times before and I stand by it that Aziraphale was lying through his teeth to Crowley in the final 15. Not because he wanted to lie to Crowley to convince him to come or to try to push him away - but because he was putting on a show for the Metatron. I think that just like the nazi zombies in 1941, the Metatron in S2E6 was absolutely watching Az's every move in the bookshop. And Az knew it. The first few times I watched it I thought Aziraphale's nervous glances to his left during his weird speech and the divorce were just nervous glances. Then I noticed that after he turned to face the other direction, his nervous glances went in the same direction, to his right side now, all the while to the window. It's alarming the frequency, several times a minute (but you were already acutely aware of the window glances you ineffably clever little shits.) I believe the whole final scene between our babies was an attempt at a sleight of hand by Aziraphale to subversively communicate with Crowley without letting on to the Metatron. How fitting that the parallel scene in 1941 revolved around supporting one another and planning and rehearsing for a performance that required for them to trust each other implicitly. And while I believe the act is for the Metatron, he is acting at Crowley - but expected him to catch on and act with him using coded language, movements, expressions, etc. that he expected/hoped Crowley would be able to read. However, both Crowley and Aziraphale in the final 15 were very clearly genuinely distraught for their own reasons. Crowley is about to finally verbally profess his love - and Aziraphale, I quite think, is terrified about his conversation with the Metatron and what's about to happen and is trying to come up with a tactic on the spot. It seems very likely to me that the intensity of their respective emotions in this moment absolutely doomed their communication.

How this all fits in with the leading theories.

I don't buy into the coffee theory. I think that was a metaphor or an allusion or symbolic of a very real "either accept my offer (which is not something you even want because everyone knows Aziraphale doesn't drink coffee) or suffer some dire consequences." I can't imagine Aziraphale would have ever thought the Metatron's offer was genuine and given out of merit. Surely he knew that he was in trouble. He'd thwarted the apocalypse, quit his job, stopped hiding that his person is a Demon, set off alarm bells in heaven twice in one week, blew up his halo and almost started a war, and hid an archangel on the lam. “You’re honest.” Bbgygrl bold face lied to the archangels for a week and the Metatron knows and Az knows he knows.

I'm not really for the body swap theory. Not really at all.

I’m not really for Angel!Crowley’s memory was wiped. How then would he remember the passwords? Crowley’s personality is very “that bitch” so I think all of his no-idea-who-tf-you-are interactions is just him being catty.

The time stop theory seems the most intriguing, I'm listening, but not yet sold. How prominently the ticking of the clock can be heard at all times in the bookshop feels important. I find myself flummoxed by the "missing minutes" / "continuity error" with that prominent clock in a show where the attention to detail is, “as you might say, a miracle,” that is propelling whole droves of human beings to the brink of discorporation. Here's an excellent breakdown of the timeline/examination of the clock in S2 by thesherrinfordfacility

I am, at this current moment in time, in the camp that believes Az likely attempted to convince Crowley to stop time so that he could explain the situation to him. To explain the threat - either implied, inferred, or direct - from the Metatron. To try to formulate a plan together. Check out this analysis from ineffableigh and take another look at Aziraphale babbling out his Heaven propaganda. Apparently the lip-reading theory that Az was mouthing about "time" has been debunked, but I stand by what looks like Aziraphale making the "time-out" hand gesture. And that damned clock loudly ticking its heart out all season must be important. Mustn't it??

Still, I'm not entirely convinced that any time stopping actually happened, not sure when it would have happened. Crowley was so emotional in a way we have never seen him. I think its highly possible that in the heat of that moment he wasn't catching Aziraphale's signals. I think that Crowley after the talk with Maggie and Nina was so caught up in saying what he was really thinking that it used up any possible bandwidth for LISTENING. But damn those tells seem like they would be/should be giant flashing neon warning signs to Crowley.

I mean, come on, the "C"lues in Aziraphale's ramble that he is spinning a wild-ass tale with coded language that would only make sense to Crowley are pretty obvious to me. If Az was really trying to convince Crowley to do something the last thing he would say is that it would be "nice(r)." And there is no way that at that point Aziraphale could have truly still considered Crowley to be a part of Hell and therefore one of the "bad guys." Seriously? 2 whole seasons and thousands of years spent learning about shades of grey and watching the Demon, who he loves, prove in a million little ways that he loves him back, watching that Demon do the right thing over and over, and TEACHING him, the Angel, the right thing. “Nothing lasts forever.” ?? My son is talking about his BOOKS. He is talking about THEM. They are IMMORTAL. They know what Eternity means. THEY last forever. If Aziraphale wanted to convince Crowley to come back and be an Angel, he would not have used that phrase/reasoning in his argument knowing full well that when Angel!Crowley became aware that his creation would be intentionally shut down, from Aziraphale's own mouth, mind, that was the triggering event that eventually led to Crowley's fall. Further, it would never have occurred to Aziraphale to try to use hurtful language to attempt to push Crowley away at this point because it has already been proven that that doesn’t work. S1E3 “I don’t even like you! “You do!” I think his erraticism in this scene was being totally caught off guard by Crowley's confession and trying to reconcile how to process and handle that while also trying to stick to his tactic of trying to get Crowley to read him. Az is brilliant, but Crowley is the one who usually can problem solve on his feet.

Az is clever enough to discern that he wasn't being offered the position in Heaven by the Metatron - Az was being forced back to Heaven. He wouldn't be happy or excited to make a difference in Heaven because he thought it was "the side of truth, of light, of good." No. There was no longer any freedom from Heaven, no safety for Aziraphale, which meant there was no longer any safety for Crowley. And if there was one motivator for Aziraphale above all other things it would be to keep Crowley safe. He had no choice but to go back to Heaven, so its not a matter of we can make a difference. It is a matter of we have to.

While I believe all of his word horror batshit disaster monologue was a bunch of old tosh, once present-day Aziraphale turns around from that 180° position to follow Crowley, into that final configuration matching that of 1941, he starts losing it. I think he's realizing that he failed in his attempt to get Crowley to understand. He did not expect to have to keep up this act so long. Crowley is walking away. It has all gone so wrong. He is cracking and the honest words start flooding past the lies. "Work with me!" (come on, catch up, please!) "We can be together"...(reluctantly, barely even trying anymore "...angels." And then it just breaks. "I need you!" "You don't understand!" While that would seem to be the case for Az, it really, at least on the surface, does not seem to have applied for Crowley.

The parallels between the final 15 and 1941 suggest to me, at least on the surface, an inverse. In 1941 we saw joy and excitement and wonder and cooperation and communication and trust. Furfur came to take Crowley back to Hell after catching our beloveds working together. And Aziraphale, the world's not best magician, performed a magic trick that may well have saved their existences, and "got it right the time that mattered." The final 15 is, again, on the surface and ostensibly, an abject disharmony. The Metatron came to take Aziraphale back to Heaven, and made a serious effort (no, not that kind, kids) to point out how very much the Ineffables "partnership" is "irregular" and implying, I'm sure, that they would only be permitted to be together as Angels in Heaven (which is a load of steaming celestial garbage.) (We're going to see more of the Az/Metatron conversation in S3, I just know it, there is some seriously important information missing.) But, as far as we were shown, at least on the surface, all of their getting to know one another and trusting one another and being able to read one another - failed to serve them the time that mattered.

And yet. Crowley still lingered in the end and stood so poised and stoic next to the Bentley watching Az step into the Hellevator...It kind of gave a feel that maybe Crowley figured something out. Maybe he had a cool down after storming out and realized something felt very off about that conversation. Maybe he just braced himself and remembered to trust Aziraphale. Maybe as he stormed out he saw the Metatron staring daggers into the bookshop window and it clicked. Maybe in Az's furtive glance back that very last time he once again mouthed "trust me." Some version of Az's message must have finally gotten through to Crowley. Somewhere along the way. It had to have. I can't believe it didn't. All season we were shown Crowley specifically can read Aziraphale. "You have three reasons for calling me" / "tone of voice," the "trust me" lip-reading at the 1941 magic show / Crowley has seen first hand how Az acts when he lies to Heaven in the Job mini-sode. And really. Crowley knows the second coming is on the agenda after his trip to Heaven. These two put the force of their entire existence into thwarting the Apocalypse once. Would he truly believe Aziraphale would want to help bring about the second coming? Sounds unlikely.

So, perhaps, the final 15 isn't in its entirety opposed to 1941. Maybe it's just a few symbolic nods. 1941 Crowley said the magic act they need to perform together needs to be "bigger" more "dramatic." Is there something bigger and more dramatic happening? Are they performing together? Did Crowley catch on? Did they stop time? Or is there a trick, like the photo swap, so surreptitious that it's almost invisible? Perhaps there is just a metaphor in there. Maybe now Crowley has to be the one to catch the metaphorical bullet and Az has to be the one to figuratively shoot? (That's terrifying.)

And then there's still the matter of that damned clock!

Also, let's face it, Alpha Centauri was never a plan. "They'll be shutting this all down in 6000 years.” “All.” As in "the universe.” As in Alpha Centauri included. They were going to have to take some sort of action eventually. I don't think Crowley ever wanted to go. He just wanted Aziraphale to say yes. Yeah, ouch.

Last point I promise is this video from @sendarya

Here, Nightingale Sang in its entirety is lined up with the 13 seconds in which it played in the Bentley and it ends exactly at the final frames of Crowley and Aziraphale. Some have speculated that Crowley had Nightingale queued up to play on the pair's way to breakfast at the Ritz. But that doesn't make sense. Wouldn't one have a song start at the beginning? AND Crowley had yet to have his chat with Maggie and Nina. I'm not so sure that the Crowley we know would have gotten it into his head/summoned up the confidence on his own to ready THAT song. Maybe the often tone-deaf Bentley was trying to comfort Crowley by playing Nightingale? But what I think is that when Aziraphale glanced back, he made the tiniest of little Angel nudge waves to convince the Bentley to play that song. From this vantage point, Michael Aziraphale's creepy smile in the final frame conveys an entirely different sentiment. It makes him look certain. It makes him look like an Angel with a plan. If I'm right in this part, I think that would have been exactly what was needed to finally get his message, intentions, and feelings across to Crowley in a way he could understand.

Come at me hive mind!

Also still new to tumblr and think I royally fudged it on adding those gifs so I'll work on that.

[summershouto]

The Hc that Sanji has a small 3 tattoo from Germa BUT he wasn't even aware of it

all of the Vinsmoke kids were tattooed according to their corresponding numbers at a very young age. Young enough that there’s no memory of actually getting the tattoo

Sanji's is very small and the ink was his Germa assigned color yellow, which makes it blend in with his skin a bit. The numbers were printed small and thin to remain inconspicuous. After all, the kids all have noticeable differences, so the tattoos were more of a formality, an insurance, rather than a functioning identifier. essentially the numbers can go unnoticed without careful inspection— and there would be no reason for the kids to analyze their own backs

luffy is the first person to comment on it. he has a knack for catching small details, especially when it pertains to his crew. Maybe he spots it when Sanji is changing or it catches his eye after a shirtless sanji rescues him from the water. Either way, Luffy curiously asks about the mark on Sanjis back. Sanji has no idea what he’s referring to so he dismisses it as another weird Luffy comment and Luffy moves on to something else catching his interest

Chopper is the one who actually tells Sanji about it. After he performs surgery on sanjis back, he informs him that his tattoo was not damaged in any way from his injury or operation. This time Sanji freezes. He has questions- after all Chopper is a medical professional and has no reason to make up stories or ask random meaningless questions. Chopper uses a mirror to show sanji exactly where the tattoo is placed on his back and Sanji goes silent once he realizes what it is and where it must have come from

Chopper is curious about how Sanji ended up with a tattoo he has no memory of, but Sanji waves him off with a lie about getting drunk and entering a tattoo parlor. Chopper respects Doctor-Patient confidentiality of course, so he never brings up the mysterious tattoo again.

Sanji goes to great lengths to keep anyone else from seeing the tattoo. In the bunk room he changes with his back to the wall and in the bath he sinks deeper into the water. No one will ever see his exposed back again.

When he’s alone, Sanji looks at very little else. He quickly learns the best way to position himself to study his reflection. He stares long enough to memorize his own back. He learns he has a few freckles dotted along his spine, his shoulder blades stick out slightly more than average, and of course he knows just how striking the color yellow can be. His eyes are drawn to the mark like a magnet and at times he can practically feel it burning into his skin

He hates it. It’s a direct link to his past- the one he was told to never speak of. It’s like Germa is mocking him… yet he also feels conflicted by it. He rejects Germa, but he can’t help but wonder what his younger self would have thought about being forever marked as one of them. He wonders if it would have made accepting his banishment harder. He wonders if Judge even remembers that the tattoo was given to him.

In the end he manages to push it aside like he does with all of his other Germa memories. Even if it disturbs and sickens him whenever he remembers what is printed on his back, he moves forward.

Until Whole Cake of course. It’s a cruel reminder that Sanji had never actually been free; that he’d been branded as theirs since birth and his years after escaping their clutches was only borrowed time.

(Until Luffy reminds him that freedom is something he will always ensure for his friends. He reminds him that Sanji has never been one of them.)

Back on Whole Cake when Sanji sees Reiju again he asks her about the tattoos; if she knew of their existence. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised when she stares at him blankly and says she always knew.

[apollos-olives]

hey, so, someone linked me this article, to "prove" to me that i should "condemn hamas". as a non-palestinian i was told there is no way i can refute this, since it comes from a gazan. i was wondering if, as a journalist and a palestinian, you would mind writing a rebuttal that i could show to people? if you have the time and energy.

https://www.newsweek.com/hamass-western-apologists-have-become-hamas-enthusiasts-gazan-im-horrified-opinion-1849228

okay sure let's go through this together

first thing i urge you is to be weary about propaganda. this person may be getting paid, blackmailed, or just genuinely might be brainwashed, in order to write this.

second is that this article might genuinely be this persons opinion 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ and if it is, i urge you to come and analyze it with me in order to point out it's faults

third, let me say that NO ONE is forced to support hamas as an entirety. but as this person's article states, he is against hamas even as a freedom fighter group, so i'm gonna walk you through some of his bullshit okay :)

one thing i noticed is that there is a LOT of propaganda that was debunked in the past that is still being used in this article

the actual number of "civilians" killed was 900, most of which were actually killed by the iof as they shot at their own "civilians" and soliders. so the author of this article may not be as educated as he might make you think he is.

he's saying that the attack on oct 7 wasn't a "legitimate armed resistance to occupation" but it literally was. there are like a billion un resolutions that state that armed resistance against an occupier is allowed. hamas has every right to fight back against israel. and what? you think armed resistance isn't going to get messy??? of course it will. it is already messy. people are going to die no matter what. that is how you fight against your oppressor. people will die. that's the whole "armed resistance" part. this person is utterly ignorant if he thinks that we can free palestine by a few peaceful protests (which i will come back to soon!)

and yeah what is wrong with "contextualizing" the attack by telling people that gazans are living in a concentration camp?? because they are. and they have every right to fight back. hamas wasn't the only one who was resisting that day, and more than one palestinian resistance group were there as well. condemning only hamas for this shit is idiotic and honestly grouping ALL palestinians, even ones who were not part of hamas, as hamas is... well do i gotta say it? racist.

this author is using a lot of words like "horrific nature" ...... palestinians who fight against their oppressors have a "horrific nature" ???? doesn't that sound... racist to you? and what "numbers" are involved ???? 900 "civilians" that were killed by their own army???? yeah. what massive numbers that hamas killed ooohhhhhh 😰😰

bruhhh this shit sounds like the whole "hamas is their new fandom" bullshit 💀💀💀 also where is he seeing this stuff???? how are bulldozers, paragliders, and motorcycles showing support to hamas?????? maybe they're just people who support palestine in general and mean to use them as symbols of resistance. mocking the "underprivileged fight back" hmmmm that sure sounds so inclusive and supportive of you mister palestinian author!!

this guy brings up international law when LITERALLY THAT IS THE WHOLE POINT. BY INTERNATIONAL LAW HAMAS AND OTHER PALESTINIANS ARE ALLOWED TO FIGHT BACK AGAINST THEIR OPPRESSORS. BY "ALL MEANS NECESSARY" - ughhh this is exhausting. and the fact that they call hamas enthusiasts (💀) "inhumane" ... wowwww what happened to the whole "stop dehumanizing poc and the oppressed" ???? this guy is a fucking weirdo.

and again with the "civilians" dude seriously???? israeli civilians are illegal settlers. there are no innocent israelis except for the children, and any harm that may come to the children should put the parents to be held accountable for bringing/settling their child into a land that isn't theirs anyway.

why would you equate being jewish with israel?? yeah a lot of israelis are jewish but pro-palestine jews have repeatedly told us that we should not and must not equate judaism and israel together, and that doing that is antisemitic because it's equating judaism as a supporter of genocide.

and why are you, as a palestinian, calling what's happening in palestine a "conflict" ??? even after years and years of palestinians begging for people to stop seeing it and calling it a conflict and name it for what it is, systematic ethnic cleansing and genocide ?? this guy's wording is ridiculous and so full of that "both sides" liberalism shit it's so exhausting.

wow we love the blatant propaganda. you could tell that the hostages were comfortable enough to wave or handshake the members who released them. they were smiling, no one was forcing them to do that. no one was threatening them harm. many family members have spoken out and have told the media that hamas has treated the hostages well, even if the conditions weren't very glorious.

and AGAIN with the whole "women and children" as if men weren't victims too. you are trying to push for the safety of israelis but disregard the men ???? hm

wow calling palestinians terrorists that's totally not racist at all!!!!

ohhh my god how many times do we have to say that peaceful protests DO NOT WORK !!! no one is listening to us. we've TRIED peacefully protesting. gazans tried peacefully protesting a few years back and HUNDREDS got killed and THOUSANDS got injured!!!! peaceful protesting isn't going to work alone. we need action!! we need to start fighting back!!! we need to make a difference!! palestinians have been begging for people to do this for years now!!!

what "slogans" ????? "from the river to the sea" ???? is that a dangerous slogan, mister palestinian author ?????? don't make me laugh.

and there is a FINE line between anti zionism and antisemitism. yes a lot of zionists are jews but also a lot of christian zionists are antisemites as well. we are allowed to call out and fight anti zionism without being antisemitic. but i guess you would know SO much about that huh, mister palestinian author.

wow what a totally normal thing to say!!! linking palestinians to their constant suffering under the occupation and linking them to be forever tied to their oppressors. "millions of jews will forever be part of the land" YES !!! PALESTINIAN JEWS !!! WHO WERE FOREVER PART OF THE LAND !!!!

ok that's all for the screenshots but i DO want to mention that not once did this guy say ANYTHING about how hamas was bad for gaza. he did not say anything or show any proof about gazans suffering under hamas' rule, and only talked about the "poor israelis" ☹️☹️☹️ who were huwt becawse they wewe illegal settlews on a land that's not theiw's :((((((

this guy was probably paid or blackmailed or something. or just brainwashed.

many palestinians ARE anti hamas as a whole. but we DO support their fight for our freedom.

i hope this helps. keep these arguments in mind next time you're reading an article.

[queenofallimagines]

Needy Embarrassing sex with Sae

A/N: Daydreaming about this mans dick what else is new🙄😒 imagining he’s in charge of helping the new manager get accustomed to the team and he can’t help but let his eyes wander

EDIT: MDNI but here’s an audio reference for y’all who not picking up what I’m putting down💕 twitter link 🥰

Sae:

- this one gave me butterflies Ngl

- Bc I can hear his voice

- Like I said he’s a lot more Tame than Rin so he does have an occasional soft spot

- ESPECIALLY for cute little things who can’t even remember the name of half the teammates they’re managing

- Since he’s the best of the best coach obviously tells him to whip you into shape

- “Try not to scare this one off”

- “Not my fault you signed off on someone who can’t even fill a water bottle”

- The coach is praying for you fr

- Surprised that you take the initiative to approach him first to ask him about things

- “I mean you ARE the star midfielder right? You probably have a good read on everyone and how they work so asking you would be my best bet.”

- Okay he loves a go getter

- Pleasantly surprised that you’re asking good questions

- “I’m trying to get as much info as possible so this becomes second nature.”

- Gives you a through rundown of the schedule and what time they take breaks

- Obviously he’s a diva so he’s the most demanding

- Giving you a tour around the facilities

- “That’s the locker room. Wouldn’t recommend walking by here between the hours of 4:45 and 6pm”

- “…..I’ll keep that in mind.”

- Finds showing you around not annoying

- Once you get to the dorms he’s listing off everyone’s sleeping habits

- “He won’t wake up before 8:30 am so if you can manage that congratulations”

- He’s been eyeing you this entire time but he can’t help it!

- He’s a hard worker so anyone putting in honest effort into anything especially when it pertains to him catches his eye

- Not his fault you look good taking notes and analyzing your surroundings

- Stands back when showing you the rooms so he can sneak a peek at your ass

- You feel him glaring holes into your back but it’s not for the reason you think

- He’s infamous for being kinda a spoiled brat but he produces amazing results so who’s gunna say something to him??

- Lmao not I said the cat

- You don’t even peep his heated gaze until you bump into him walking backwards

- Turning around quickly to apologize before he can catch an attitude his eyes are quite literally undressing you

- This man’s whole life is sports so ofc he’s gunna find a track suit sexy

- Will play it off like he’s not embarrassed for getting caught

- “Cat got your tongue? Don’t tell me you’re just now getting star struck.”

- Mans is giggly asf in the back of his head

- He fr ain’t seen someone catch his eye like this in a while

- Logically getting his dick wet right now would be nice

- But also with the new manager on the first day??

- weighing the options in his head and the way you look up at him and go

- “What about you? What do you want from your manager?”

- He threw caution to the wind

- Everyone else is busy with practice and he can make up some lukewarm ass excuse as to why you guys took so long

- Testing the waters by letting one of his hands rest on your lower back

- Mamma ain���t raise no bitch so he’s relieved you immediately return his energy

- He’s not wasting anymore time and pulls you in for a kiss

- Mans is STARVED for intimacy like this so he’s definitely a little more vulnerable

- Like that’s definitely the reason your lips fit so well against his

- Why your body curves into his so nicely when he carries you to his bed

- Yeah that’s definitely it

- Feeling himself get embarrassingly hard so fast he’s feverishly tugging at your sweatpants

- “Let me make you feel good, there you go.”

- The quiver in his voice isn’t missed

- You have a once in a lifetime free pass to tease THE Itoshi Sae

- PLEASE TAKE IT!!

- Grind your hips into his while tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck and he will let out some of the sweetest moans for you

- It really has been a while the way his hands are shaking to pull off his own clothes

- Pull him down to kiss you, distracting him from his current task

- He’s weak for being pushed around a little

- Throws your legs over his shoulders without warning

- The way he’s got your legs spread wide for him and he’s eye level with what he wants has you avoiding eye contact at all costs

- Moving his head between your thighs he’s damn near moaning with his mouth all over you

- Holds your trembling thighs still right beside his ears as he shamelessly moans into your cunt

- “You taste so fucking good, gonna use my fingers.”

- This man has not had pussy I’m so long he’s acting FOOLISH

- If he even took a moment to BREATHE he would be giving you heart eyes

- The way he’s singing praises while sucking your clit and angling his fingers to hit your g-spot all at once

- Man is filthy, and he’s not at all ashamed like he’s grown

- Spitting on your clit before he starts rubbing it with his thumb

- While his mouth and other hand are busy getting as much of your taste as possible

- The type of man to need to lay a towel down no matter WHAT your doing in bed

- Very “wait I didn’t shave” “did I ask all that??” Energy imo

- He’s gunna have you cumming on his sheets anyway so what do all that matter??

- Looks up and sees you covering your face trying to keep your noises down and that shit don’t fly w him

- “Keep covering your face and I’ll tie your hands to the bed.”

- And he’s dead serious too

- Comes up to kiss you not caring if you taste yourself because he wants to feel your lips THAT bad

- The way he refuses to break eye contact only serves to make you more shy because they’re glossed over with desire

- making sure you can’t squirm away from him has he has you cumming on his fingers

- “Feel good?… Yeah? like how i stretch you out? Let me feel you come undone then.”

- Whew IK he talks you through it😫

- “Keep your eyes open.”

- “S-sae I can’t-“

- “You can and you will, pretty thing.”

- Feels your nails digging into your wrists as you clench around his fingers

- “Ah. Almost there? Make a mess f’me.”

- Almost came in his pants watching your eyes roll back

- Since he IS shameless he’ll lick his fingers clean as you’re forced to watch him

- Dramatic as fuck the way he groans about you tasting good

- “Let me watch you play with it.”

- Watching your small fingers curl inside your pussy as you mewl in embarrassment almost has him intoxicated

- Throwing his damn clothes anywhere

- He’s not too stupid to not tease you a little tho

- “If you’re that shy turn around and hide your face in the pillows”

- Nothing is EVER that easy with him

- Cursing and grunting under his breath as he slips it in

- “How about you set the pace. Fuck me how you want”

- Chuckles as you hide your face in the pillows while fucking back into him

- He knows how to put on a performance before all else too

- “Use my cock cmon, make me proud and fuck me good pretty.”

- He’s moaning like a whole ass pornstar head thrown back and everything

- Trying not to move because this is your “punishment” for being all shy

- Can’t help it when you look back at him face clearly burning and whimpering at how embarrassing this is

- Praising you which makes it even MORE embarrassing

- “There you go” “fuck me till I come cmon” “you can do it”

- Like bro SHUT UP😭

- However the way you’re squeezing him tells otherwise

- When he feels you come around him he grits his teeth and says a small sorry in his head before he shoves your face into the mattress

- Feeling you wrapped about him had him fr loosing his mind

- Might skip all of practice just to keep doing this

- “Mhm, you can cum on this dick.. i wanna see it messy."

- Stretches out his words and talks all slow

- He is an Itoshi though unfortunately

- “W-wait Sae, 's too much, you're too fucking big."

- Has you seeing stars like never before

- Clit pincher🗣️ hair puller🗣️

- “Sayin’ it's too much but whining for more? Can't make up your then mind I’ll decide for you.”

- Pushing you deeper into the mattress with his whole body weight

- Grunts and moans RIGHT into your damn ear because you’re squeezing him so might tighter shouldn’t he tell you how good you’re making him feel?

- “At least your cunt knows what she wants, pretty pussy sucking me in and won’t let go. Want me to fill you up that damn bad?”

- Failed to take into account that all he wants to do now is lay down and spoon you while you cockwarm him

- But alas this is the shared dorm and NOT his apartment

- And he has no clue how long y’all been at it

- Helps you clean up while wobbling slightly

- Makes sure there’s no trace of what yall did but the sheets to his bed being in the washing machine

- Nobody thinks nothing bc he’s an upper class brat who needs things to be pristine

- Some people get suspicious when it happens like 5 times a week though….

- He does all his laundry separate so there’s no one to see how your underwear accidentally falls out the pocket of one of his jackets

- Everyone congratulates you on somehow going above and beyond so well that The Sae Itoshi acknowledged you!

- He didn’t think after the first time that looking at your ass you’d be enough to make him embarrassingly hard in public but oh well

- “Continue in my absence I’m going to check if the manager has the new schedule.”

- A few people see red scratches peeking out his jersey but meh probably just the imagination

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 2: First Kill

AO3 Link  |  Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; cutting (not to self, but still); descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; brief allusion to transphobia

Note: I know I’m not the only one who wanted to be the one holding the knife in that scene…

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

The earth beneath Abby’s knees was wet. Rain cascaded all around her. When she was able to pull her eyelids open, she found that she was staring at the ground below her. It was dark, save for dim firelight.

Very slowly, she came to, her senses awakening one by one.

It took her far too long to realize that she was being dragged forward, toward a larger fire, with her arms tightly bound behind her back.

She was barely conscious when the arms that were carrying her suddenly let go, sending her crashing onto the ground with no way to cushion the fall. She let out a pained grunt and shifted, trying to get a better sense of where she was.

When she looked up, she found three bodies, hanged and gutted and very very dead.

Panic set in as she quickly got her knees beneath her, trying to get up. Instantly, the hands returned, roughly forcing her back on her face and holding her there, unyielding.

All too quickly, a noose was pulled over her head and tightened.

“No—” Abby pleaded, but the rope tightened further and she struggled as she was lifted off the ground.

She dangled and continued to struggle until something was pushed beneath her feet, just tall enough for her to stand on the tips of her toes and relieve some of the pressure on her throat.

Finally, she saw her attackers. She knew they would be Scars, but looking at them standing around her, watching…

She knew she was about to die.

There was a man and a woman directly in front of her, mutilated faces silently staring at her from beneath their hoods.

The woman removed hers and tilted her head, eying Abby.

She spoke. “It is time.” And then she took a step back. “If it is your will, Prophet, yield your righteous blade. Free this wretched Wolf from the evil within her.”

You stood in the shadows, unseen, previously unnoticed by the dangling girl. When the woman spoke to you, you stepped into the light, slowly moving toward them.

Where the other Scars wore trench coats, you were covered entirely in a long black cloak, your face concealed beneath a larger hood. Your movements were smooth and intentional. Self-assured.

In your right hand, there was a dagger, loosely held but steady in your grip.

As you stepped closer to Abby, she tried to focus. Tried to analyze you. But her airflow was severely restricted and any small movement from her could result in her losing her footing and falling off the bucket beneath her feet.

The two others stood on either of Abby’s sides, ready to intervene if she were to try anything… Not that she could do anything if she did try.

You were standing directly in front of her now, but she still couldn’t see anything beneath the hood through the rain and her faintly blurring vision.

She wasn’t sure what she expected. That morning when Isaac told her you existed, she hadn’t thought about what you might look like. She had seen the murals of the original Scar Prophet, and she always thought she looked like a regular woman. Just some random lady who became the leader of the worst cult ever.

Nothing could’ve prepared her for when you reached up with your free hand and pulled back your hood. Her eyebrows raised involuntarily.

You were beau—

You… You didn’t look like a Scar.

Your eyes met hers for just a moment before they swept downward, taking her in. You eyed her curiously, like you weren’t sure what to do with her.

Or maybe that was Abby just being hopeful.

The look on your face hardened, becoming determined. Your grip on the knife tightened. If any part of you had been hesitating, you’d just made up your mind.

Shit.

Fuck.

Yeah, she was definitely going to die.

“They are nested with sin,” you said, voice low. Your eyes were on Abby’s face, holding her gaze.

The other Scars watched as your eyes again went lower. You reached your hand toward Abby’s abdomen, lightly grazing before gripping the bottom hem of the shirt and pulling it up, exposing her bare stomach.

Abby knew that the lack of oxygen must’ve been making her lose her mind. She had to be sick. Because when she felt your fingers on her skin, she shivered. And she wanted to lean into the touch…  

Until you pressed the blade there, harshly enough to emit a trickle of blood.

Abby hissed and looked away, gasping for breath and closing her eyes against the sharp sting of the knife.

You pushed the blade further.

“Free them,” you continued, “That they may know My—”

You were interrupted by the sound of a whistle, and you instantly paused.

Abby opened her eyes to watch as you breathed out. You were – what – relieved?

The other two ran off to respond to the whistle. You remained in place, dagger still held firmly against Abby’s stomach. You stared at it, and she stared at you, waiting for you to either finish the job or pull away.

You did neither, frozen in place. It seemed like you were also waiting for something.

Abby didn’t dare to move in the meantime.

The other Scars returned with two more, another man and a younger girl who was struggling against the men as they held her forcefully on both sides.

“Yara,” the Scar woman said smugly. You visibly winced upon hearing the name, still not turning around.

“Where is the other apostate?” the same woman asked. She leaned closer to the girl, who responded by spitting in the woman’s face.

There was a moment of silence before the woman uttered the words, “Clip her wings.”

“No!” You spoke out immediately, turning quickly and bringing your dagger with you. Abby gasped and took as deep a breath as she could, still struggling against the noose and her binds.

“Don’t.” Your voice was authoritative, causing the men who were holding the girl to pause.

The woman looked quickly at you, surprised at your outburst, before turning back to her henchmen. “I am your direct superior. Do as I said.”

“But she’s the—”

“Do. It.” She seethed.

“No,” you insisted again.

The men threw the girl on the ground anyway.

You ran forward, but the woman grasped you and forced you back. You were too preoccupied watching the girl on the ground to prevent the woman from taking the dagger from your hands. She tossed it aside, far out of reach.

“I knew it!” she said through gritted teeth. “I told Elder Constance you weren’t ready.”

It happened quickly.

One of the men pulled a hammer from his belt and violently smashed it down on the girl’s left arm as she screamed.

“Yara!” You tried to push past the other woman again, but again she held you back.

“They’re apostates! Traitors to your people and your cause. You should be giving the order to have them killed!”

The man brought the hammer down three more times.

“Stop! Please stop!” you cried, fighting against the woman.

No one listened to you.

The hammer was passed to the other man. He raised his hand, ready to shatter her other arm too, when two arrows from an unseen archer stopped him short.

One through the face. The other in the chest.

Everyone turned to look for the unknown assailant, except for the girl.

She grabbed the hammer from the dead Scar’s grasp and slammed the claw of it into the other man’s throat, killing him.

The Scar woman pulled her gun to shoot the girl, but another flying arrow drew her away. She faced the surrounding forest, shooting blindly several times, not knowing where the archer was hiding.

The girl stood, left arm mangled and limp at her left side, hammer firmly grasped at her right.

This whole time, Abby could do nothing but watch.

But the Scar woman moved just close enough for her to wrap her legs around her neck from behind. She squeezed the woman’s head between her thighs until she dropped her gun.

The girl ended the woman by ramming the claws of the hammer through the side of her head.

As the woman went limp, she fell from between Abby’s legs, sending her swinging through the air by her neck, unable to regain her balance on the bucket.

And Abby began to choke.

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

The Elders referred to it as your “first kill”.

It was supposed to be the last trial before you fully stepped into your role as the Prophet.

You still weren’t sure of all that would entail, but after eight years in limbo, you were ready for something else. Quite literally anything else.

Years of memorizing the scriptures, learning to fight with multiple weapons (and without them), improving upon any and all skills the Elders deemed necessary for you to master, each one seemingly more arbitrary than the last. Hours upon hours upon hours of prayer and meditation. And a whole lot of nothing.

You could kill a Wolf or two if it meant your life would become anything more than what it had been for nearly a decade. If it meant things would be different.

And if it meant you could help your friends.

You knew everyone was searching for Yara and L. Hunting them down.

You’d heard through the quiet whispers of your servants at Sanctuary that he had cut his hair and told his mother that his name was Lev.

He had no choice but to run, and Yara went too.

You were so afraid for them.

And yet part of you wished they had taken you with them.

You weren’t sure if you still got to call them your friends. You hadn’t been permitted to spend time with anyone informally or without purpose since the morning of your scarring ceremony, so you hadn’t spoken to them since then.

You should’ve been able to be there for Lev. And Yara. You shouldn’t have been locked away.

But maybe once your training was complete and you were officially the Prophet – in authority, not just by name – you could protect them.

Maybe something good could come from your circumstances after all.

That would make it all feel worth it.

Emily had taken on training you in hand-to-hand combat some months ago.

You had a strange relationship with her.

On one hand, she was the only person who didn’t treat you like you were some mystical, cosmically-chosen goddess. She usually treated you like you were just another person.

But, on the other hand, she was an ass. So that was frustrating to deal with.

Still, there had always been a greater sense of normalcy between the two of you than there had been with anyone else in Haven.

The Elders decided that Emily would be the one to take you to the mainland for your first kill.

There were some disagreements about how large the hunting party should be.

“The people need to see Her as a conqueror. They need to know that she’s a capable fighter,” some of the Elders argued. But it was ultimately agreed upon that a smaller group would be safer. It would draw less attention from your enemies.

So Emily chose two of her best men, and your group set out.

The mainland was not what you had expected, and nothing like the island, but you were able to navigate it well enough.

Emily brought you to see Martyr’s Gate for the first time.

Prayer had long since become a mindless chore of yours. You rarely did it in earnest.

Today, you did though.

You prayed for strength. Because the closer you came to the killing, the less sure you were that you would be able to go through with it.

The idea of killing while fighting, either in your own defense or to defend another, was one thing. You were sure you could do that if the time came.

But this was different. It wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t a true display of combat skills or strategy or anything else you’d been training for.

Emily explained that the plan was to “catch a wolf, string ‘em up, and cut ‘em open.”

The thought made you sick.

In a rare moment of compassion, Emily put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed lightly. “They would do the same thing to you, Prophet,” she said, looking into your eyes, “the second they got the chance.”

You tried to steel yourself, knowing that, just like everything else in your life, you didn’t have much of a choice.

When the time came, you weren’t even the one who “caught” the Wolf. The men had her pinned down and Emily knocked her out while you just stood off to the side, blinking, trying not to vomit.

As she laid still on the ground, you couldn’t help but to examine the girl whose life you would soon be taking.

She was big. And very strong. Strong in a way you honestly didn’t know a woman could be.

You wondered if all Wolves looked like this. You doubted it.

She wore a black sleeveless shirt, so you could see her arms, and they were incredible. Your eyes lingered for longer than you should’ve allowed yourself to.

Her dark blonde hair was long and braided.

She was covered in cuts and bruises. Definitely a soldier. Probably a very good one.

Your eyes traveled over her lightly freckled face, down her long nose—

Emily interrupted your train of thought. “I think I’ve heard of this one before… Never come across her myself though,” she said, joining you in eying the newly unconscious Wolf. “She has killed countless Seraphites. Numbers of Your people, dead at her hands.”

You felt a flash of anger upon hearing this and berated yourself for having been looking at her so… admiringly.

How many people did you know whose role of soldier was chosen for them, just as your role of Prophet had been chosen for you. They hadn’t asked for it any more than you did. And they had been killed for it.

Many of them by this woman.

Suddenly, the idea of killing her didn’t seem so impossible.

“It will be our honor to take care of the dirty work on your behalf, Prophet,” Emily said. “The only thing you need to worry about is this…” She handed you the dagger as the men dragged the Wolf away, into the forest.

You followed behind, pulling your hood over your head as it began to rain.

One of the two men split off, saying he thought he saw something and wanted to investigate. Emily nodded and took the Wolf’s arm from him, taking on half of her weight.

Once in the clearing, you watched as the Wolf regained consciousness, just in time for Emily and one of the men to put the noose around her neck and lift her off the ground.

You watched as she struggled to catch her breath and balanced on the bucket that Emily had shoved beneath her feet.

You watched, hidden beneath your hood, as she saw you for the first time, standing in the shadows, and her eyes widened.

You listened to her gasps and grunts as she struggled against her binds as you approached.

You pulled back your hood and looked into her eyes. Saw a living, breathing human being who had done nothing to you and could do nothing to defend herself against you.

And once again you weren’t sure if you could actually do it.

But you pushed ahead, just as you always do, and did what was expected of you.

Until the whistle had cut you off.

Yara had been captured, and you weren’t able to stop them from destroying her arm.

In the fight that ensued, you were useless, standing off to the side in utter shock as arrows, bullets, and hammers flew, everything happening too quickly for you to be able to react.

When the Wolf grabbed Emily with her legs and crushed her between her thighs, you couldn’t help but note the fact that you had been standing much closer to the Wolf, and for much longer…

But Emily was dead and the Wolf was choking, now dangling freely with nothing to stand on.

“Yara!” You heard him before you saw him.

He came running out of the tree line, pausing when he saw the hanging Wolf.

And then he saw you, still frozen. Still useless.  

“Prophet,” he breathed, bowing his head. The genuine sincerity in the gesture disheartened you, but you were glad to see him alive and unharmed, so you gave him a small smile and a nod.

His eyes stayed on you for just a moment longer before he went to check on Yara, quietly whispering her name. She waved him away, her arm limp and face pained.

“The Demons are coming,” he said, loud enough for you both to hear.

For some reason, that was what got you moving. You found the dagger on the ground where Emily had thrown it and rushed over to rope that held the Wolf.

“What are you doing?” Lev asked.

“Cutting her down.”

“She’s one of them,” he said.

“Lev,” Yara said, shaking her head.

He went quiet, watching as you quickly cut the rope.

The Wolf fell to the ground with a loud, painful thud and immediately began coughing and gasping for air.

You walked over to her, hesitant. You had been seconds away from disemboweling her just a few minutes ago. Maybe she would turn around and kill you the second she was free.

But you had already cut her down and Demons were on the way, so you knelt on the ground behind her and carefully cut away the ties that held her hands.

The moment she was able, she used her own hands to loosen and remove the noose, sitting up quickly and looking around for something.

Her eyes went to Emily and she crawled over, grasping the hammer lodged in her head and yanking it out.

With one hand to her throat, she stood.

You couldn’t believe she was standing so quickly after what just happened to her, but she was. And you knew that if she decided to attack you, you would not win that fight. Even now, in her weakened state and despite your years of training, you wouldn’t stand a chance against her.

But she didn’t come after you.

A twig snapped in the surrounding forest. She turned towards that, ready to face whatever came out first.

Yara stood, grabbing a knife that belonged to one of Emily’s men.

Lev had an arrow notched in his bow, ready to fly.

You gripped the dagger tighter in your hand and tried to remember everything you’d been taught about fighting Demons.

“Watch your backs,” said the Wolf.

You supposed you’d get to have your first kill tonight after all.

[ganondoodle]

totk rewritten (for me, specifically)

since i dont have time to get to drawing it right away AND im worried people might take this the wrong way, i thought i could write out some bullet points about my rewrite of totk (meant as a fix FOR ME not saying its inherently better) to give you a better idea on what im going for:

the core structure largely remains the same, the biggest change is no time travel, thus making zelda your travel companion, and zonau tech being lagerly gone/broken with shiekah tech instead

it is not shown but said in dialog that shiekah tech, such as the ancient furnaces, shrines and towers are either turning off or have flickering power supply and purah having calculated that all their connections point towards beneath hyrule castle

game starts pretty much the same as real totk, most zonau ruins are so withered away that they are barely recognizable and the further you get down theres more and more shiekah tech pipes and occasional a miasma vein, some pipes are broken and spill miasma, others flicker

instead of the room with the wall carvings theres one with old ancient shiekah research remains, old broken tech and prototypes you dont what their purpose was, all documents are too withered to read but zelda finds one that was sealed in a container and takes it with her (she got a backpack now)

theres a structure similar to the bed thingy of the shrine of life from botw but its working in reverse; within it is sealed ganondorf (i gotta work out the details around it still)

(details still missing) it breaks and zelda takes the enigma stone but doesnt touch it directly and puts it within a sealed container (you know kinda like you should do with soemthing you have no idea of what it is and was alsO LOCATED ON A CORPSE)

ganondorf isnt the elegantly talking villain type in this version but more of a mess, talking in different languages both modern and ancient but you cant make out any clear sentences, struggeling with suddendly being awake and half alive after spending thousands of years in an agonizing limbo, having witnessed every second of the passage of time yet also it feeling like everything just happened all at the same time

the ground breaks as he recognizes zelda (bc of her fighting calamity ganon in botw) but also not really, still sees her as a threat (also bc of the enigma stone in the container she still has in her hand) attacks her, link deflects with the master sword, it breaks and damages his arm, zelda drops her torch and pulls link away towards where they came in from and both run as the caves fill up with miasma like a flood with arms starting to reach after them while they both run back through the tunnels (creepy chase sequence anyone?)

cataclysm happens (ground breaks, miasma bursts out of the ground, especially where shrines and towers where since they were still connected to the pipelines) ground shifts massively in some places giving alot of the map a whole new structure; all shiekah tech that was not independent stops working due to power loss

links arm is amputated since otherwise the miasma would spread to his whole body; purah, robbie and zelda work out a prosthetic arm prototype to give to link (protoype at first will be upgraded at halfway point of the game) that can switch between multiple modes, like a hand to hold normal items or a weapon that isnt crafted, and a fusing ability (though maybe limited in the prototype) that lets you make weapons similar to the weapon fusing in canon totk (potential upgrades including an extendable guardian arm that doesnt break, grapple hook anyone??, also the ability to build stuff out of shiekah tech parts, not glue needed you actually screw it together, maybe zelda even helps)

now you are given free roam of hyrule, the goal is to explore and find what has changed and check on people, see what the underground has, new monsters have spawned etc.

zelda is your companion the whole time, she can use the shiekah stone/purah pad to analyze enemies for you, she also carries at least a dagger for her own self defense but doesnt contribute much to the fight (subject to change maybe), you can talk to her anytime and she usually has something to comment on depending on where you are or what you just did, can give you tips and advice IF ASKED FOR IT, when you discover ancient ruins, whether zonau or shiekah, she can either decipher it for you or take photos for later to find out more about everything that has happend and what it means, she also takes part in conversations when you talk to someone, her outfit changes with yours (meaning when you wear the tingle set she wears it too, opens up alot of funny interactions njfkdk)

purah has built new towers but they function different (still working on the details) mainly that they function independent from the energy source in hyrule castle

there are floating islands but they are bigger and in more connected clusters, when reaching them its ancient withered ruins that the ancient shiekah built support around (like the platform used by monk miz kyoshia) to keep them afloat; there are building like observatories and research labs, but all very overgrown due to being up there for so long, theres a titan prototype on one of the islands, its shaped like a whale and zelda deciphers it was called vah narisha (reference to the whale deity in skyward sword) (i havent decided yet if its fully broken and just a big piece of enviroment to explore or half functioning floating around, or maybe first broken but later half repaired so it can fly around at least giving you an easier way to reach other island, you cant steer it tho) some of them are falling bc of energy loss but the bigger ones have independent energy sources (work in progress)

the underground has more diverse zones depending on which part of the map it is located on, there are old mines (for luminous stone) from the zonau but all is extremely withered, in each one its been mostly built over by the shiekah but there are construct remains that were clearly dissected and studied, half built shrines and towers, you can find collectibles and lore there (working on more details, but an idea was to include remains of ancient shiekah tha fled there when they were persecuted by that old king of hyrule, adding to the eery vibe)

some titans (maybe two, and the other are still on the sruface, like vah medoh) feel down during the cataclysm, broken apart or malfunctioning/ possibly being a boss as in they were used by a big cluster of miasma hands like a hermit crab uses its shell, the inside filled with eyes and different sized hands dragging itself towards you like a drowing man grabs after anything to save him)

dongos are your go to transportation here and a little different, when you call one they dig a path to you (not permanent, just so they can always spawn near you) they glow in the dark and can climb on walls (bc why not), and can point you towards the next objective/point of interest, likely where theres a high concentration of luminous stone since that is what they eat and its usually where old mining/construction sites are (still working on a replacement for light roots that are less invasive)

the rat from the trailer is a miniboss/boss you need to defeat in order to get the broken mastersword back into your possession

(im still working on how the sages work, but the idea is to incorporate their abilites for more efficient and reliable use into links shiekah prosthetic, so you can still use their abilities but only when you actually want)

(again still working on details) halfway point of the game is you trying to find out where ganondorf went, not intending to fight necessarily but just to find out more but it devolves into you fighting some sort of miasma monster (either him or some sort of manifestation he made) and you get a bunch of short memory flashes from him, all vague and a wild mess from both the time he was sealed and from the time afterwards, maybe even a perspective shift from when link was fighting dark beast ganon, but from ganons view, from zelda when she was keeping that manifestation in check, random views from the malice eyes from botw, from the blights, maybe even from the fight with the old and new champions, from the point when shiekah built their tech around him while he had to watch not able to do anything etc.)

links arm gets upgraded from prototype to a full prosthetic, opening up more fusing abilites and other things (like the grapple hook, again working on it, im open for ideas lol)

i will reblog this and add more over time if you want, but do let me know if you like it thus far, bc im still unsure if its worth the effort of working more on this QnQ

(also if you dont like just keep scrolling, i dont need to know that you hate it, it literally changes nothing but make me annoyed xD)

[bakugoushotwife]

born sinner (part three; finale)

pairing: crime boss!suguru geto x fem!surgeon!reader series content: blood, gore, realistic descriptions of surgery but like as accurate as someone with access to google has, angst, slow-burn, smut, anxiety as a heavy theme, no curses!au, violence, guns, gang mentions and typical violence, religious imagery, etc. chapter content: smut!! oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetrative sex, doggy into some kinda reverse cowgirl almost you'll see ig, he spits on your pussy, he lightly slaps your thigh and ass once, rough sex, hair pulling, good aftercare. all other series warnings apply. wc: 9.5k a/n: here it is!! the last installment of crime boss! geto just in time for his birthday!! well, chapter length anyway. feel free to send in requests of slice of life for this series any time, and enjoy the conclusion :3 and just one last thank you to @antizenin for thinking up this concept, please go follow them and give em some love :)) part one // part two

bright lights never bothered you before–not like this. in the middle of those old nights when you got the call to come in, you welcomed the fluorescents to wake you up before you performed yet another life-saving surgery and went to sleep in an on-call room for a few hours before you had to do it all over again. once upon a time, you were addicted to these moments, living and breathing for the riveting rush that only surgery could give you. but now, in the void of sound that is your personal hospital, you know it won’t be ambulance sirens that starts your adrenaline. you know it will be victims, one of them likely suguru—and you feel like you might be sick in the middle of the floor and the lights will only serve to highlight how out of your league you are. 

you hear the low rumble of voices, the hisses of pain and groans of confusion coming from the hallway linking your sector to suguru’s house. it sounds bad–multiple different voices complaining about their injuries. you take a steadying breath, perhaps it was just a street fight—just a few stitches and busted knuckles to ice. knowing suguru, he was trying to work you up for no reason. 

the door busts open and your eyes widen, hopes crushed quickly. there’s blood puddling in the floor, red footprints tracking their way to the door. satoru is being dragged forward by suguru and choso, head rolling between his shoulders. he’s riddled with bullets, and he’s not the only one. the dark-haired driver seems to have a couple of bullet wounds himself and there’s a few more of suguru’s yakuza that have suffered the same fate. your heart pounds so loud that you can hear the blood rushing in your veins, and it’s not adrenaline that you feel in your veins: it’s white-hot dread. fear. panic. your body moves despite yourself. 

only when satoru is positioned on a gurney are you able to analyze suguru—his shirt soaked with blood you can’t determine is his own or not. his shirt is ripped, face cut, blood dripping off his fingertips to contribute to the great vibrant red staining the floor. he’s injured, and you’re panicking–and these people could die, and who do you even start with?? you turn towards suguru, inclined to make sure he’s alright. your hands shake, you move towards him in slow, unsure steps, and he grabs one of your shaky palms—stopping you from tending to him. 

you know he can see right through you, knows that you’re bound to lock up in fear, yet he looks at you with a gentle grin—despite it all, forgetting the fact that he’s in pain and his men are grievously hurt. his thumb rakes over the back of your hand, nevermind the blood that streaks across your skin as he does so—his blood, decidedly. you can’t stop staring. at the blood on his hands–your hand, at the mass of injured people waiting for you to fix them—on the crimson puddles leading straight for you.

“hey—look at me,” his voice is stern, with a sense of understanding softness to it. it’s commanding, and your eyes stop surveying the injured and snap back to his face, his lip busted and a cut that definitely needs stitches. “you’re the best money can buy, that’s why you’re mine. just…block it out. breathe, one at a time. it’s a tall task, i know what i’m asking of you. work on satoru first, and trust yourself. we all panic, so show me why you were on the cover of academic magazines, ebi. i’ll tell you everything that happened while you work.” he offers, and you know that it must be an attempt to busy your mind—so you jump at the reprieve. he watches you slip into a different part of yourself, your brow furrowing—mind steeling as he commanded. you nod, gesturing for him to talk as your turn for satoru, popping the buttons on his shirt and cussing at the damage. 

“hey boss-man, we got him!” satoru beams, dropping a manilla file on suguru’s dark cherry desk. suguru cuts his eyes over to him, rather bored looking with his elbow propped on the table and his head leaned against his hand. he’s hesitant to perk up at satoru’s words, not wanting to get his hopes up for a lead on toji without good reason. the first trails had gone cold before he had really even had the chance to look into them; all second-hand accounts of a guy that knows a guy that had absolutely nothing to contribute other than wasting their time. “go on, open it!” 

satoru sounds so perky suguru is inclined to follow his orders for once. gojo wouldn’t look so excited if this wasn’t something good. so he pops the tab and reaches in, sliding a bundle of papers out. some are print-outs of surveillance cameras—toji’s unmistakable presence captured with sukuna—his men had gotten a hold of something concrete finally. included with those were text messages, meeting arrangements for the one who stabbed him in the back—no, shot him in the chest. they were getting a delivery tonight. this is what nanami risked his life for, and suguru was intent on making it worth it. 

“we’ll move tonight then. we have a delivery of our own to make.” he claps the file against satoru’s chest, a nonchalant smile closing his eyes as he gets to his feet. revenge. it was so near. he needed to make arrangements for this quickly, there was only a few hours to go before the meeting would go down and he needed to decide who would station where and how many weapons and cases of ammo they would need.

he thinks about you as he walks to his armory. he had practically tucked you in and promised to make up for his temperament later in the week. he sighed aloud, the heels of his boots clicking down his marble walkway. the walls were barren outside of the tapestry that hung along one of them. it’s a long hallway with a hidden door to the left side of it. it leads to his armory—walls decorated with guns, flash grenades, smoke bombs and more. he just needed to make sure that this went well, as minimal casualties as possible so you could sleep through the night undisturbed. he can seek his revenge and keep you out of it. so he can keep his promise to you. 

so he starts pulling guns off their mounts and calling his best men to get the cars ready. 

a few hours later, suguru and his top seven guys stood at the back entrance of ryomen sukuna’s estate, holding their delivery driver hostage as they wait on toji to surface for it. it was just a crate of weapons, but enough of a hassle for someone high on the food chain to come for it. apparently being a rat helps you climb the ranks. he doesn’t come out alone—several men flanking him as he takes a look around. 

he’s smirking, like he knew that something was lurking in the shadows without even having to look too hard. he folds his arms and scratches his head with the barrel of his gun, whistling. “i can smell ya, mangy little kid. what, you wanna talk about my betrayal?” he rolls his eyes. suguru steps forward, but so do satoru, choso, kusakabe, hakari, yuuta, todo, and inumaki—all of his top performers, minus the injured nanami.  

“no, no. you’ve taught me that there comes a time where the talking must cease. i just want your ashes in an urn for my office.” he hums, hands in his pockets. the tension runs high, suguru’s feline smirk making everyone on the opposing side antsy. he takes a step forward, and one of toji’s men preemptively shoots—triggering the chain of events. 

that’s where things get fuzzy. he remembers ducking behind the car and peaking around to get a few shots off. suguru couldn’t care less about the extra men—sukuna’s men–that was a battle for another time. he just wants toji. he wants to show him the monster he’s created. suguru doesn’t thrive on negativity—feels like it’s a curse, even, but he will not tolerate disrespect and betrayal. he will not give toji the chance to plan another attack. not now, when he has so much to lose. 

and when satoru’s body falls down beside him, all he can think about is the injuries he sustained, the ones that nanami endured—all of the wounds his other men would get tonight; the nearly lethal suffering he weathered–you, who would have to repair all that was broken tonight despite his oath to you. he rolls the opposite way than he had been peaking, coming around and letting his gun do any talking. he takes down two of the regular guards, opening up his shot on toji. suguru nearly laughs; it’s so easy. he expected to mourn a little, to hesitate. to feel his morality tug at him or even hear that angelic voice he’s long concluded to be yours telling him to stop. 

but his brain is clear, heart at peace. he can feel the cool wind whispering against his cheek, advocating for justice. seeing the carnage makes things so clear, his best friend bleeding out at his feet. he wonders briefly if you felt this calm when you stumbled over him all those nights ago. he pulls the trigger, there’s a loud bang! and slight jump of the barrel, smoke wafting into the night air—then the loud crumpling sound of toji’s body hitting the ground. 

and then there is silence. 

you’re pulling bullets out of satoru’s arm and side while suguru recounts the events to you, mind operating on nothing but your knowledgeable instinct. you thought he may be distracting like he was when you operated earlier in the day, but his voice is surprisingly even and soft and drowns out any grunts of pain from the others you hadn’t yet seen. satoru was easily the worst of them—but you moved efficiently to patch him up, gleeful that none of the bullets had hit major arteries and that he would be fine in a few weeks. 

you administer morphine to everyone, thankful beyond belief that all your x-rays and ct scans proved that everyone in this rival gang were horrible shooters; all your patients would make it without any real surgery required. just a lot of pain medicine and stitches—and you would consider that a good day. should any of them have needed to be opened up, you would have had to pick and prioritize them, or have suguru do it for you. no, you’re very thankful for a mess of gauze and blood on the floor, happy to hang bags of fluids and let them talk over their victory with each other. 

once his men were patched up, suguru finally let you tend to him. he unfastens the buttons on his shirt for you, “this one’s expensive. i don’t want you ruining it.” he jokes, seemingly content despite the situation and how grave it really could have been. you wonder if taking care of his enemy is the sole reason why. 

“ha, ha. i’m here to save lives, not designer shirts.” you raise a brow to chastise almost, but the grin playing on your lips betrays you. though it quickly drops when you see he’s been shot three times. he seemed to omit the part where those two men he shot, shot back. 

you suck in a breath of air and look up at him, the wounds on his chest that were nearly healed looked red and angry—due to the fact his body was already weakened from them and had just acquired three more. two of them had clear exit wounds in his abdomen and just required your cleaning and dressing of them. the one closest to his heart was a shallow wound, the bullet lodged just beneath his skin. you can’t help but feel fear. what if one of these bullets caused your grafts to rupture? what if–even if he doesn’t think it’s fatal, it is? so you insist on an echo and a ct after you’ve pulled the last bullet fragment from his olive-tinted scarred skin. 

“you need tests. i need to make sure your heart still looks good—you really need to take it easy, suguru. you’re not invincible.” you say as you place the electrodes on his skin. his deep laceration was perfectly stitched so it may not even leave a scar–and you know he can’t grin at you the way he wants due to how tight the threads pull at his cheek. 

“i’m a yakuza boss, little isha. i can’t exactly take it easy.” he leans back on his arms to allow you closer to his chest–the broad expanse of toned muscle and rough terrain. your slender fingers press the stickers in the places only you would know to put them, watching the machine read his heart beat while you take his blood pressure. you take a breath of relief when the numbers look perfect. 

“come on, one ct scan just to help me sleep tonight.” you raise your brow expectantly and pull the probes from his chest, feeling his ochre eyes stare into your face as you work. 

“of course. anything for you.” he purrs, sliding off the gurney and following you to the adjacent room to do the scans for your anxious mind. 

“anything, hm? you said toji shot you. is that what happened when i found you?” you ask, guiding him to lay down for the machine. 

“you’re relentless, ebi. and you tell me i don’t know when to quit.” he chuckles, earning him a glare from you as you try to run the scan. you’re quiet while it’s running, eyeing the results as they populate on your desktop. 

“you said you’d tell me everything and thennnnn you said you’d do anything for me. one simple request. i just want to know what you went through that night.” you hum so sweetly he knows he won’t be able to deny you any longer. 

“yes, fine, brat.” he shakes his head, sitting up on the hospital bed to face you. despite his seeming annoyance, his lips are turned up in a grin. he looks over your face, adorned with the excitement that he has finally given in to you no doubt. you lean forward, hip bumping against the side of his metal gurney. 

“that night, i was betrayed. my mentor–toji fushiguro. he was like a father to me, and satoru. he taught me the ropes of being a yakuza boss. most of everything i know came from him. i was meant to meet with the head of our rivals, toji organized the entire thing,” he reflects on this with so much pain in his eyes—you understand why he had brushed off the retelling for as long as he could. it’s clear he didn’t want to think about it. but maybe since the saga is over, he feels free enough to indulge you in it. “on our way there, sukuna’s men flipped my car. i crawled out of the wreckage and toji…shot me in the chest to finish the job.” he looks down at his marred flesh, littered in the scars from that day. 

“how did you make it to that alley?” you ask, hanging on his every word. he was incredibly resourceful and resilient—and that can’t be entirely taught.  

“dragged myself. there were patrons in that bar that owed me. if i could have made it inside, i knew someone would have gotten a hold of satoru, at least. i left him home because he’s a loud mouth and would ruin the meeting—but it was a mistake. satoru knew. he smelled toji’s betrayal, and i dismissed it. my bad judgment nearly cost me my life.” he focuses on a crack in the tile flooring next to your feet. you notice the brokenness that flickers in his eyes as he stares at that point on the ground–a proverbial crack in the foundation. you interrupt those drowning thoughts of his own self-criticism by putting your hand on his shoulder, you remember your own cracks and how they’ve been mended since. 

“it seems like you have pretty good judgment. no one can be right one hundred percent of the time. i had to learn that early on, even with the science and miracles of surgery. everything seems under control, don’t underestimate yourself. you have it all put together.” you encourage, thumbing over the edge of his collarbone. his skin is so warm and tan despite how often you see him inside. he looks at you as if he’s surprised by your touch, but makes no move to evade it. after a moment of staring, he chuckles, and you look away—though you can feel his eyes trained on you like always. 

“no, isha. i may look orchestrated, but i’m falling apart.” he sighs out, a hint of that pain darkening the golden brown autumn eyes he looks at you with. you can’t repress the intrusive instinct to trace the thick scar left by toji’s betrayal—by your skilled sutures. you shake your head at his words.

“when i found you, you were falling apart. now you’re putting it back together. it’s a process.” you say, voice falling to a whisper as you realize just how close you are to him. you’re standing between his legs, your knees buckling slightly as his rest against your thighs. you have to conjure every ounce of your courage to lift your gaze to his notorious bedroom stare, ochre pools sending a tingle down your spine. you bite your bottom lip and his vulturous gaze flickers down to watch the way your white teeth dug into the plush color of your lip, the flesh swelling a bit from the pressure. he puts his hand on your hip, so gentle by manner of touch but so rough by feeling. his fingers are long enough to rest atop the supple fat of your ass, and you can feel electricity thicken in the room like the moments before a loud thunderstorm. you don’t know who leaned in first, but your lips meet—and lightning strikes. you feel his fingers curling into your clothes, your very bones. his lips move fluidly against yours, his head turning to mesh with your slow movements. your brain is fuzzy, his other hand reaching for the dip of your waist to pull you into his lap—except he grunts in pain from the contact, and you pull away with the sudden clarity that he is hurt and you are his doctor—as well as everyone else’s in this hospital. 

you can feel the heat in your cheeks as you look out of the machine room to see if anyone saw the two of you. he just admires you with amusement, that you’re concerned you overstepped despite how obviously he feels for you. 

“we should get back out there, your friends probably want to see you…” you smile, but all he can see is your kiss-swollen lips. he smirks, nodding and rising to his full height before following you into the main wing. 

the two of you don’t discuss the kiss, nor the obvious shift in your relationship. suguru calls you more often, invites you out to accompany him for walks around tokyo, takes you for fancy dinners. there’s been no official labels, no indication that this is his version of dating. you almost wonder if he’s toying with you since he knows you hold some sort of attraction to him after you basically threw yourself at him when he was injured. 

on the surgical front, things have been quiet. since that night, there’s been no retaliation. even you know better than to think it will stay that way. suguru, of course, is expecting their attempt at revenge any moment now—hence why you haven’t been to his estate in weeks. he doesn’t want you caught in the crossfire, but he’s not prepared to give up his time with you. that explains all the long video calls and expensive dates, if you can go so far as to call them that. you enjoy his focused attention, but can’t deny that you miss all the time you used to spend together. 

thankfully, today’s call is different. “hello, little isha. would you like to be my date for the upcoming annual charity gala?” he asks, the smirk clear in his tone. you like to give him a hard time, especially when you’re feeling neglected, he’s noticed–so your scoff doesn’t surprise him. 

“do i really have a choice in this?” you grin, and he wishes he were there to see your features brighten. 

“mm, no.” he chuckles, but you know he’s just placating you. 

“i don’t have anything to wear, when is it?” you huff, trying to disguise your excitement to go to an event with him. it speaks to how highly he regards you–and a hard launch tells you that he’s ready to make this real. 

“don’t worry ebi. satoru will be there in twenty minutes or so, i’ve taken care of it all. do your hair and makeup however you’d like, i’ll be ruining it all anyway.” he says so casually you don’t even catch it at first, only the fact the gala was today and you needed to get ready as soon as possible. 

“wait—you’re asking me to this today?!” you exclaim, panic setting in. you need to take a full shower in twenty minutes and trust that he picked something decent for you to wear. 

the phone line goes dead in response. you groan and slam it on your bed, sprinting for your shower. a charity gala? it must be a hot-shot event. maybe he didn’t tell you in advance because he didn’t want you to freak out over the people you’d be rubbing elbows with. you’ve learned to trust him wholeheartedly, but that doesn’t mean you’ve stopped wondering what he’s up to. did he say he was going to ruin your makeup?!

satoru is sitting next to a garment bag positioned on your bed when you get out of the shower. you didn’t leave your door unlocked—

“you broke into my house?” you gape at him, still wrapped in a towel. he’s unashamed, long legs stretched in front of him with one one ankle folded over the other. he just shrugs, keeping eye contact with you over his dark shades. 

“hey, he told you i’d be here in twenty, not my fault you took fourty-five! don’t worry—i’m not looking.” he smiles wolfishly, seemingly enjoying getting a rise out of you despite all you’ve done for him. you know he’s harmless—to you anyways. he juts his chin toward the bag and shoe box next to him. “hurry up—you got a lot of work to do woman.” he snickers, eyeing your soaking wet hair. you narrow your eyes at him and step back into the bathroom to dry your hair and put on a robe. something tells you suguru would not love the idea of satoru watching you in your towel, harmless or not. you style your hair in your favorite formal style, waiting to do your makeup until you saw the dress suguru selected. 

you step back out into your room, rolling your eyes as satoru fakes loud snores to convey his boredom. you ignore him to the best of your ability, unzipping the black plastic to reveal an even darker black dress. it’s a long formal gown with a slit up the side, the obsidian satin was adorned with shining glitter and a diving neckline. it’s gorgeous, and will look stunning on you. you nearly flush as you run your fingers along the smooth skirt, shaking your head at the lengths he would go to at times. you go for the shoe box next, pushing off the lid to reveal a matching black heel with red bottoms. you gasp—and satoru snickers. he knows how suguru is, and this was just the tip of the iceberg. you pick the shoe up, analyzing the sleek and expensive heel. you are going to tear suguru a new one when you see him. 

the setting sun sends one of her last few rays of light through your high windows, catching on the things left in the shoe box. a gleam catches your eye—something shiny and bright. you move the other shoe aside to find a necklace and matching earrings—gold with diamonds. no doubt all real. this time you have to look at satoru. 

“is he serious?” you hold up the jewels, satoru’s wide grin telling you yes, he is in fact serious. he wants you to look like his woman. because you are. 

“yeah. hurry up and get ready, we’re gonna be late if you keep gawking at them instead of putting ‘em on.” he rolls his eyes, but truth be told he finds this little love story quite adorable. suguru deserves it, and he just hopes you can fulfill this role without letting them all down. “look. suguru likes you a lot. please. don’t…end up on our kill list.”

you meet his eyes, remembering that gojo raised the alarms on toji and stood by suguru’s side more loyal than anyone. you just smile at him, nodding. even saving his life wasn’t a good enough excuse to let his guard down, and you were happy that suguru had him around. “you’re a great friend, satoru. i won’t disappoint you.” you promise, gathering the dress and accessories up and slipping back into the bathroom to complete your look. 

suguru is waiting for you when satoru pulls the car into the valet parking section outside of the event. he looks handsome—you’re convinced it’s effortless for him at this point. he wears a black tuxedo, complete with a matte black undershirt and a sleek black weapon tucked under his suit jacket. he tied all of his hair back for once, though his bangs and a few stubborn tendrils  frame his sharp featured face. he runs a hand through what he can as you step out. 

his eyes feast on you, starting at your slim ankles all prettily strapped into the shoes he picked out for you. then his eyes move up to your thick thighs and wide hips spreading under the dark silky fabric. the dips of your waist, the bulge of your breasts. he doesn’t know if this is a good idea anymore. taking you out looking like this was a sure way to cause trouble. your makeup was done subtle and stylish, your hair perfectly complimentary to all your best features. all he can do is shake his head and bite his lip like you had done the night you kissed. 

satoru gives the keys off to the valet driver and snorts at a speechless suguru. but he goes ahead inside to case the situation for his boss anyway—and to give him some time alone with you. maybe he’ll get a few words in eventually. 

“you’re breathtaking, my ebi girl.” he smiles, there’s no turning back from this now. “this event isn’t ready for you. there will be dangerous people inside, all of us camouflaging as successful and wealthy businessmen, not yakuza. don’t speak unless someone speaks to you. don’t leave my side, and don’t look anyone in the eye. i’ll keep you safe.” he promises, pulling you into his side. 

everyone in here was likely knee deep in illegal shit. you know suguru isn’t trying to scare you, he’s just trying to be honest with you; to include you in his life. so you obey his every order, clutching your glass of wine and letting the popular geto-sama lead you around to intermingle with other small clan heads and arms dealers, families of his workers and even some of his rivals. the cloak of public showings make it easy enough to blend in and not worry so much about physical retaliations here. 

suguru keeps his arm around your waist, getting handsier as the night goes on. you wonder if it’s just for show, to display you like his property just to keep other people away. his fingers toy with the slit on your dress, sliding his fingerprints over your thighs, calluses brushing smooth skin. whether this is just to parade around his successes or not, you’re melting into his touch anyway. 

“would you like to dance with me, darling?” he asks, his voice a deep timbre in your ear. the breath of his whisper ruffles your hair and sends goosebumps down your neck. you nod hastily, earning a chuckle that only makes that pool of liquid fire in your gut ripple with desire. suguru’s always intrigued you, tripped you up—but the way he can’t keep his hands off of you has you squirming for a different kind of dance as he leads you towards the ballroom floor. 

“ahhh there’s my little basket case. you remember me, don’t you doctor?” a deep voice booms ahead of you, catching your attention. suguru’s arm becomes a vise on your waist. you look away from him to see a familiar looking man. he was big and bulky like suguru, dark face tattoos with vermillion eyes. his hair was a pale pink—and you remember him. 

“you know sukuna?” suguru looks at you, absolutely betrayed. you furrow your brows—it wasn’t like that. you had to make sure he knows that, that you never lied to him. you just simply didn’t know that man you met was sukuna, the man that’s causing a majority of these issues for the man you’ve fallen for. 

“no—not like that—he bought me drinks that night at the bar.” you say quickly–pleadingly, and he matches that up to the story you told him. it makes enough sense that sukuna would celebrate his “victory” in a bar nearby as well—and the worry in your eyes claws at his heart. he knows you’re honest, knows you would have given yourself away at any mention of sukuna’s name if you truly were some half-spy of his. you are a lot of things, but an actress you were not. 

“bought drinks, became your shoulder to cry on, and then you disappeared. how sad to see where you went. finders keepers i guess—though, i have found you now!” he chortles, eyes lingering over your frame. his smile grows even wider at the way suguru holds you, fingers digging into your sides, trying to pull you behind him. 

“i don’t care where we are, sukuna. i will turn you into rat food if you come near her again.” he says, a vein popping out along his temple. his voice is threatening, terrifying even if you didn’t trust him like you do. he took your word at face value, even though he’s been burned before. his trust means more than anything. 

sukuna scoffs. “that enamored with the little surgeon huh? maybe i’ll give her plenty of surgeries to show my affections.” 

geto snarls, putting an arm across  you to keep you from following. “try me. i’ll give her your head to show her mine.” he pushes the side of his jacket aside to show the cute little 9mm he had stuffed away. your back straightens at the prospect of violence, but you fight the urge to interrupt. these were already warring gangs, you couldn’t undermine geto’s authority. 

sukuna just looks down, smirking at the threat and mockingly putting his hands up in surrender. the smirk doesn’t die down, only spreads wider until he’s the image of the cheshire cat. “we’ll tango later…dance with my little surgeon until i get her back.” he winks at you, causing even you to scowl his way. choso watches him go, looking ready to pounce as soon as suguru utters the command. but satoru’s the one to smile and encourage both choso and suguru to settle down lest everyone start asking questions. if satoru didn’t know how possessive suguru already was—if sukuna hadn’t already played into those insecurities, he’d offer to dance with you. instead, he just nudges suguru’s back once the music swings into a melodic jazzy swing. 

he turns to you, his muscles still rigid with rage. you can tell by the stiff way he holds your other intertwined hands out, that same tight grip on your waist remaining. his jaw feathers, and your heart pangs with concern. you know you two aren’t anything official, but he had to know how you felt, right? after all these months spent learning about one another—he’s your sole friend. he’s given you a chance to feel your purpose, to practice your craft and save lives. lives of men that were funny like satoru, kind men like choso and nanami, young men with lives to live and families to go home to. you would never walk away from him. not for fear, not for money, not for anything. so you clench his hand back and push him into stepping with you to the music. 

“suguru,” you breathe out, his darkened honey gaze bores into your soul anyway, making you breathless beyond that. you just meet his eyes with your soft adoration, pulling and pushing him into the dance moves as he tries to calm down, “he’s trying to get in your head. don’t let him.” 

“he wants you,” he replies instead, shaking his head a little–the image of an angry bull. you swear if you look hard enough, you could see smoke circles forming from his exhales, “i won’t let that happen. you’re mine.” he rasps, finally stepping and moving into you on his own. 

“i don’t remember you asking,” you smirk, knowing it may not exactly be the right time to provoke him–but it seems like your taunting doesn’t affect him. you’ve known it since you shared that kiss, and probably even before then. you’re his, and he is yours. 

“good thing i picked the perfect dress to take off of you tonight to prove it, then.” he muses, eyes dancing over your body. it nearly fills him with rage again–that sukuna got to see you looking this fucking good. it’s meant only for him. his hands wander to your hips, pulling you into his. your hands brace on his chest, pretty little bedroom eyes just pleading for him to get you out of here. 

“if i let you,” you chirp oh so cheekily he can’t wait until the party is over. he smirks at your words, eyeing your fidgety hands on his collared shirt. you know it’s inappropriate, you know there’s other people wondering why the two of you touch each other like you’ll never get the chance to again. but the usual shame or panic isn’t there to cloud your thoughts. you just burn with the sweltering need for him, and you know this is as clear as your mind has ever been. 

geto motions for gojo to lean in. “have choso bring the car. we’re heading home early.” he orders, never once looking away from you. you feel naked already from the way he devours you, and you can’t bring yourself to pretend you don’t love it. satoru smirks, but nods and goes to pass along the message as commanded. 

“i want you to remember your bold attitude here,” he says, only amusement lacing his tone. he’s bred a million plans for you in his head already, and waiting for the car is only making him more creative. “you’ll be too brainless to do it later, ebi.” he promises, threading his fingers in yours and pulling you towards the exit. 

you feel pretty brainless already, if you’re honest with yourself. it’s like it floated right out of your head the moment he looked at you like a predator eyes his prey. but you comply easily as if obeying him was written in your very dna. 

he prides himself on his restraint to not take you in the car—rationalizing that your first time together needs to be special. he needs to have the room to do what he needs to do to you. there will be time in the future for nasty sex in the car, if tonight goes right. 

you think you should be rewarded for your patience as well, thighs clamped together to avoid rubbing them together the entire ride back to his estate. it’s even worse as he tries to look composed, thanking choso for driving the two of you back home—politely asking that his men entertain themselves elsewhere for the evening, suggesting the business house in the inner city. choso gives him an awkward nod, clearly pretending not to notice the obscene way suguru grabs your ass as you walk into his house. you only giggle as the door closes behind him, but your laughter is cut short when he knits his fingers in the hair above your neck, pulling your head back gently enough. you gasp meekly and it just makes the predator in him purr. 

“you have any limits, ebi?” he raises a brow, his other hand coming to caress your face, thick thumb swiping over your bottom lip. you swallow, feeling every nerve in your body spark against his touch. you shake your head no–maybe foolishly, maybe you’ll regret it, but you don’t want him to hold back. you want to feel the full force of his desire too. 

“good,” he approves, hungrily kissing you. his injuries have fully healed, range of motion fully intact. no grunts of pain or ache in his muscles could keep him from claiming you now. you feel him consume you, his hand curls in your hair to maintain full control. the tips of your fingers tingle as your grab onto his broad shoulders, fully trusting him with the weight of your body. his lips are slightly chapped, scraping your soft ones and making your stomach do backflips. he pulls away after nearly a minute, letting you heave a breath into your lungs as he nips down your jaw, laving his tongue over every hurt. each one sends a pulse of power through your body, making two heartbeats as your core aches for him. his thumb and forefinger grip your chin and turn your face away so his lips and teeth and tongue can find the sweet spot on your neck—and it doesn’t take him long. you’re squealing out his name as he sucks marks into your precious neck, not caring how badly it bruises. he hopes it does—wants everyone to be very clear on the fact you belong to him. your hands slip to his chest, shoving at his jacket. he pulls away long enough to let it fall off his arms, collecting in a heap on the floor. he also unstraps his weapon and discards it on the table, pulling you back into him as soon as he’s done. 

“jump,” he orders, those wondrous hands scooping at your thighs once you do just that. you wrap your arms around his neck, admiring how beautiful he is this close. sharp and angular features that somehow maintained a subtle softness, full lips and eyes as warm as an early autumn afternoon despite how dark and cloudy they are when they look at you. he’s perfect, and you can’t keep yourself from kissing him again as he walks with you. he blindly follows the curves of his hallways, your heels falling off from all the movement. your lips move desperately, trying to tell him all the things you’ll eventually work up the nerve to say—and he can feel it. he can feel how much you want him, how long you’ve felt this way. he’s got you against the door of his bedroom, hiking your dress up to expose the pretty matching black thong you put on all on your own. he smirks devilishly. “cute little thing—planning to get fucked this whole time?” he raises a brow and you only answer with a smile and weak nod. 

he just growls in return, diving back towards you to nip and lick over your collarbone, grinding his growing bulge against the thinly veiled layer over your cunt. you clench around nothing, letting out a needy whine at his teasing. “suguru—”

“i know, poor girl,” he chuckles against your skin, trailing his kisses to the swells of your breast that your dress so provocatively revealed for him. he slips the thin spaghetti straps down your shoulders, using the slack to yank the chest of the gown down entirely, exposing your tits to the warm summer air. “i’ve got just what you need, don’t worry,” he groans, thumbing over the pebbled buds with lust blown pupils. you wiggle against the door, desperate for every flick to your nipple, every swipe of his clothed cock over your soaked panties. he leans down to kiss your sensitive chest, kneading the other. just the angle of his hips kept you pinned against the door, lips suckling on your pert nipple. you knew from the look that formed next that he was only sympathetic to you for the way he’d be satisfying your needs–and his own. everything happens so quickly. your tits jiggle as you land on your back, plush bed swallowing you up as he uses your ankles to drag you to the edge–just to show how easy it is for a man his size to manhandle you. 

he had a violent need to claim you—almost blinding now that sukuna had challenged him for you. he had to fuck all those thoughts away, couldn’t risk you even wondering what life with anyone other than him was like. your thong is tucked into the pocket of his dress pants, thighs spread and pinned by his warm and rough palms. your legs dangle over the edge of the bed and his shoulders, cunt glistening and on display for him. your inner thighs are coated with the same slick, and he smirks at how he was able to make you drool like this with hardly any work. his fingers swipe at your lips, dipping inside your little entrance to collect some of the sweet arousal. you gasp at the sensation of his fat fingers—two at once. he pumps them once, twice, before he leaves you empty again. you nearly whine, hearing him slurp the juice off of his fingers. it’s so lewd you can’t help but writhe for his touch, earning a groan in return. you’re like heaven to a man like him, the sweet honey in between your legs has him leaning in for a fresher taste, licking a thick stripe over your entire cunt with his flattened tongue. he groans again, shaking his head. you’re irresistible. he can’t believe how cute you sound as he plays with you, your little whines of disappointment make his cock throb. he leans up, the thumb of his other hand pulling back your hood so he could spit on your swollen clit, so needy for his attention. you gasp loud, legs trying to close as he sets into rubbing fast, torturous circles over your bundle. he slaps the inside of your thigh. 

“none of that, little girl. daddy’s trying to make you feel good.” he chuckles, inserting his still-wet digits into your puckered hole yet again. you gasp at the light slap—your back arching completely as he finger fucks you, watching you open and close your mouth as you try to cope with the intense pleasure coursing through your blood. it’s unfathomable. you pull at your own hair, toy with your own chest, grinding your hips down for an even greater high. he knows it won’t take you long—and that’s even better. he’s one step closer to fitting you around his cock–shaping you into his perfect pussy. but he needed to watch you cum, needed you to coat his tongue, needed every piece of you to be his. your sounds, your faces, your body—your mind. he needed it more than air. 

his fingers curl into the spongy spot inside of you, his thumb matching pace on your clit. you feel like you’re flying—like the sun above you warms your entire body as his fingers make quick work of you. in just a few minutes, you’re moaning loud and cumming on his thick digits. 

he lets no time pass, leaning in face-first to smother himself in your taste. you jerk with sensitivity–but when you reflexively try to close your legs this time, he doesn’t stop you. he welcomes the warm crushing force of your thighs against his ears as he laps at your core. if he thought your wetness was sweet, your cum is pure nectar. he’ll never tire of this, kneeling before the bed he will share with you and feasting on your gorgeous cunt—everything that led him here, to this moment, it was worth it and he would do it a million times over if it ended this way every time, arms looped around your legs to hug them even closer.

his tongue is just as fat as his fingers, forcing you to moan out as he breaches your hole for a second time. he just wants to savor every drop, taking his precious time milking your pleasure. your chanting and whining only makes his tongue slower, dragging against your insides before he finally moves it to flick your sensitive clit. you nearly scream out, having begged for his attention until he sucked your bundle into his mouth and scraped his teeth against it, brown eyes tracking every scrunch of your nose and eye roll of pleasure.

it feels like someone is pulling you apart from the inside and cumming in his mouth is the only way to fix it. you finally reach for a fistful of his black locks, yanking on his hair tie until it snaps and hair falls around him like a halo. you snap too, body shivering into him as he sensually eats at you. he relishes your little squeals and whines of overstimulation, chuckling into your pussy when you try to shove his head away. your chest is heaving, your eyes glossy in a blissful daze, lips glossy and swollen from how you’ve been gnawing at them. oh he has to absolutely ruin you. 

“so sweet, i got carried away…” he muses, pushing you to your side with a gentle pressure on your thigh. you catch his hint even in your brainless state, turning fully to your knees–balancing on wobbly arms as you throw your ass in the air for him, baring that sensitive cunt to the air and his animalistic stare. “you are mine, i hope you know that by now ebi.” 

he spreads your ass cheeks, watching himself guide his fat mushroom tip to your hole, twinkling with amusement at the way you clench down before he’s even impaled you with his wide shaft and leaky tan tip. he wonders if he should be careful, inching into you slowly to draw out your anticipation—and maybe there will be time for that later, for now, plunging his cock balls deep wins out. he wants to hear that nasty high pitched moan you cry out with, needs to feel your pretty pink pussy choke down on him at the sudden impact, needs to see his nuts slap against your ass with the pace he sets. he’s only satisfied when he sees you reaching out for the sheets in front of you, desperately trying to ground yourself to reality and escape his brutal pounding. 

the room gets hotter, heavy breaths and lewd moans are the language of love between the two of you—the rough smack of his pelvis and balls fit in the mix as a melody. he reaches forward, making handles of your hips to keep you from subconsciously crawling away. “tell me doctor, is that your cervix i feel stopping me?” 

you couldn’t answer, the connections between your brain and mouth butchered and his cock was the cleaver. he’s so big, so wide that you can feel him in your throat, every added touch to your body was just kindling for the fire. he has no mercy, thrusting into you like he was trying to get inside your womb. your skin is nothing but goosebumps, the way he caresses your insides have your arms fully giving up. you flop onto your face, his large palm sliding up your back and into your hair like before. it holds you steady, his other hand gripping your hip for leverage. your moans turn broken, his grunts of pleasure like music to your ears. 

“can’t answer?” he hums, eyes flickering over the mess that he’s made of you, the puddle you’re becoming in his sheets. he’s dreamed of this for months, since he’s met you perhaps if he’s entirely honest with himself. your sounds go from whines and moans to crying and screaming, legs starting to shake too. you’re already so sensitive, having experienced his mouth and fingers already. you don’t even have control of your body anymore, shaking your head as you hurdle to the finish line—especially as he slaps your ass just to see his handprint blister in your skin. “how precious. who’s my fucked out little girl?” 

“oh daddy—” you shiver, clamping down on him hard enough to tell him what was about to happen. he beams at your acceptance and use of the nickname, pulling your face out of the covers to hear you wail properly. in fact he balls up that grip and tugs your back to him—your body jelly enough to be compliant, only whines and sniffling in confusion. he never stops fucking your sex as your back meets his chest, his large hand snaking around to clutch your throat gently—more of a comfort than a threat. his other hand was the real danger, sliding around your hip to pinch and roll your abused pearl and send you sprawling over the finish line. you see stars at the position change, his punishing pace unfaltering. he wanted to see your gorgeous face, your makeup ruined as promised. lipstick smudged and mascara running down your cheeks—you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. he presses a kiss to your shoulder, and you finally release. you make him twitch inside you as your head falls back on his own shoulder.

it was a white hot sensation you can’t say that you’ve ever experienced before despite your previous sexual partners and your own pleasures. this was different, this was all-consuming bliss, much more than just a simple orgasm. he broke you down, read you like a book, and destroyed you just for him to rebuild. you feel like you shatter around his length, his pretty cock collecting your high as you cry and jerk and moan with heavy breaths. you didn’t think it could get better—but the sudden rush of warmth flooding your pussy makes you convulse a little again—earning a chuckle from the man that did this to you. 

he holds you up against him, the muscles of his body moving and flexing against your body. he fucks into a slower rut, still pushing his seed further so you had to keep it all. everyone would know who you belong to that way, that’s for sure. 

you can’t bring yourself to care, floating in the middle of a pleasure ocean. there’s no brain in your head to think with, only preoccupied with his warmth and strength keeping you supported while you catch your breath. you don’t even know if you have control over your own body, feeling akin to a slinky toy. he presses another kiss to your shoulder, his broad hand splayed over your stomach. “you take me so well, ebi,” he purrs, rubbing over your lower stomach, where all of his children sat. “rest now, isha girl. let me take care of everything else.�� he assures, another kiss to your cheekbone, every touch so contrary to the roughness he handled you with before. it makes your eyes droop, the exhaustion claiming your muscles without you putting up any fight to stop it. 

suguru thinks you fell asleep before your head ever hit the pillow, but he wipes up any spillage and tucks you under the covers anyway. he gets a bottle of water just in case you wake up thirsty, the fleeting wonder of if he did too much crossing his mind. he just needed you to feel how desperately he feels for you. he has to make sure that this bed is the only one you’ll sleep in for the rest of your days. 

you’re still conscious, though only in the most basic way. you can feel his arms wrap around you, and a smile tugs on your lips as he peppers your face and neck with affectionate kisses even without knowing you could feel them. “i hear your voice in my head. or, heard, perhaps. but before i met you—there was a haunting female voice that pushed me to keep going. i’d never heard anything like it. you, it was you. you told me to keep fighting,” he says, his voice a deep baritoned whisper. you know he’s not much for romantic speeches, but here he is, pouring out his heart to you. “you sirened me into finding you. i’m not sure how you did that—but you saved me, ebi. in more ways than one. i’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know that. just stay here. don’t let anyone take you from me.” 

“after that i won’ be able to walk anywhere anyway.” you slur, a little giggle spilling out of your parted lips. his cheeks dust a light pink once he realizes that you heard all of that, but it only encourages him to nibble your ear and kiss your cheek with as much sweetness as he can muster. 

“go to sleep—or do you need more dick?” 

“hm, tempting–” you snicker and he grabs a handful of your ass from where you lay as the little spoon. you yelp and fall into a fit of giggles, putting an even broader smile on his face. his eyes only sparkle with amusement as you turn to him. “but i don think i can take it right now,” you coo, clearly drifting in subspace. you lean up to kiss his lips, short, but sweet. “you go to sleep too, mister mob man.” 

he does chuckle with that, shaking his head and running his fingers through your hair until light snores confirm that this time, you are asleep. 

morning light spills through the curtains, casting her spotlight on the two of you tangled up in one another in bed. your hair is a wreck—his isn’t faring much better—but you’ve never slept better. with his warm frame dwarfing yours, the rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peace that kept you unconscious until his phone started to ring. 

he groans out his annoyance, arms tightening around you for a moment as if he was just as devastated at the thought of moving as you are. but he is an important man, and knows more than likely that this is an important phone call. so he detangles himself from you and answers the phone with a raspy morning voice that has your heart beating in your pussy. 

‘woah—slow down, satoru. what happened?” his face turns into a hard slab of rage, eyes narrowing as he listens to what sounds like a frantic gojo. he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, heaving a deep breath. “i’ll be there in ten minutes.” his icy anger bites through enough that you don’t sit up to console him, but as he hangs up and turns to you, his eyes are soft and warm yet again. 

“duty calls?” you pout, cuddling into the covers to replace his missing warmth. he nods, leaning in to cup both of your cheeks in his hands. 

“yes, i’ve some business to take care of. i’ll be back in no time, trust me. the fact i have a beautiful woman naked in my bed will be a wonderful motivator.” he smiles softly, tilting your head back so he could place a loving kiss on your lips. “there’s water on the table if you get thirsty, darling.” he notes that look of concern in your eyes and pushes a stray lock of hair out of the way. the back of his knuckles brush over your cheekbone, and there’s a gentleness in his ochre gaze that puts you at ease. “don’t worry my isha. nothing can keep me from you now.” 

you nod, leaning in to give him another kiss just in case. your heart pounds with a new kind of anxiety as he slips from the sheets to get dressed, one that clutches at your heart in places it never did before. you can’t lose him. you don’t even know if you can handle seeing him hurt anymore. life has surely changed drastically from months ago—and now you get to trade in your nervous and self-deprecating anxiety for the kind of torturing worry that only having a yakuza lover can give. you’re no longer an anxious doctor—no, you’re the concerned girlfriend, waiting on suguru to return.

morning light spills through the curtains, casting her spotlight on the two of you tangled up in one another in bed. your hair is a wreck—his isn’t faring much better—but you’ve never slept better. with his warm frame dwarfing yours, the rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peace that kept you unconscious until his phone started to ring. 

he groans out his annoyance, arms tightening around you for a moment as if he was just as devastated at the thought of moving as you are. but he is an important man, and knows more than likely that this is an important phone call. so he detangles himself from you and answers the phone with a raspy morning voice that has your heart beating in your pussy. 

‘woah—slow down, satoru. what happened?” his face turns into a hard slab of rage, eyes narrowing as he listens to what sounds like a frantic gojo. he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, heaving a deep breath. “i’ll be there in ten minutes.” his icy anger bites through enough that you don’t sit up to console him, but as he hangs up and turns to you, his eyes are soft and warm yet again. 

“duty calls?” you pout, cuddling into the covers to replace his missing warmth. he nods, leaning in to cup both of your cheeks in his hands. 

“yes, i’ve some business to take care of. i’ll be back in no time, trust me. the fact i have a beautiful woman naked in my bed will be a wonderful motivator.” he smiles softly, tilting your head back so he could place a loving kiss on your lips. “there’s water on the table if you get thirsty, darling.” he notes that look of concern in your eyes and pushes a stray lock of hair out of the way. the back of his knuckles brush over your cheekbone, and there’s a gentleness in his ochre gaze that puts you at ease. “don’t worry my isha. nothing can keep me from you now.” 

you nod, leaning in to give him another kiss just in case. your heart pounds with a new kind of anxiety as he slips from the sheets to get dressed, one that clutches at your heart in places it never did before. you can’t lose him. you don’t even know if you can handle seeing him hurt anymore. life has surely changed drastically from months ago—and now you get to trade in your nervous and self-deprecating anxiety for the kind of torturing worry that only having a yakuza lover can give. you’re no longer an anxious doctor—no, you’re the concerned girlfriend, waiting on suguru to return.

tags: @justboredtingz @monikosman1311 @khaleesihavilliard @lagataprrr @shinylightsalad @userbananababes @shoutascoffeepot @kxchokxcho @diorsbrando @thecityofspareparts @lees-chaotic-brain @woozzz @spam-love (sorry to those that are not getting properly tagged :( )

[gemsofgreece]

Hi! What could be a good english version of The Iliad, like the most faithful translation of it? xx

Hello! I have read the Iliad only in the prototype and modern Greek renditions. So in order to answer this I started with a plain search on the web for the most famous English translations. I see Lattimore (1951) and Fagles (1990) being frequently recommended. I ended up finding however a fantastic post on Reddit by some good soul who decided to analyze in depth all the modern English translations. OP provides the first paragraph of most of these translations in order to back their commentary. As a result I was able to read them as well. So I will add the link to their post in the end of my answer but in the meantime I decided to also provide my own opinion alongside theirs. Granted, my evaluation is based only on the first paragraph but we know writers and translators strive for the best in the opening paragraph so hopefully my conclusions will be more or less safe. Let alone that the opening paragraph of the Iliad is famous, it’s the invocation of the Muse, so certainly the translators were trying their best. Please note I am only judging the translations for which OP provides the first paragraph.

Lattimore (1951)

Deviations counted: 3

Style: poetry

Other notes: A little difficult to read but there is something old-school about it I like. Despite its deviations, it tried to keep other elements most other translators failed to.

Reddit OP opinion: They did not like Lattimore, they think he’s overrated.

Fitzgerald (1974)

Deviations counted: 8

Style: poetry

Other notes: God forbid.

Reddit OP opinion: They like it but admit it’s not very faithful to Homer.

Hammond (1987)

Deviations counted: 3

Style: prose

Other notes: It sounds more humble than Lattimore’s pompous translation, however it is easy and readable without deviating much from the original.

Reddit OP opinion: We agree.

Fagles (1990)

Deviations counted: 7

Style: poetry

Other notes: Why is this one of the two most popular translations? If you have to pick one of the two all time classics, I definitely recommend Lattimore between the two. But my favourite so far remains Hammond.

Reddit OP opinion: They reject this for the same reasons as they did with Fitzgerald.

Murray & Wyatt (1999, latest revision, 1924, original)

Deviations counted: 7 (fewer in the original)

Style: prose

Other notes: OP provides the original version and some older revisions and they are significantly better than what you will likely find in stores now. The original is in an older style of English.

Reddit OP opinion: That was the point they were making: unnecessary revisions for the worse. They say the old version is out of copyright so maybe you can find that one.

Merrill (2007)

Deviations: 8

Style: poetry

Other notes: It’s poetic but not beautiful enough and certainly not very faithful to the original.

Reddit OP opinion: Somehow they seem to like the opening paragraph but then makes notes similar to mine regarding the rest of the poem - I’d argue it’s evident from the very beginning.

Kline (2009)

Deviations: 6 (7-1)

Style: prose

Other notes: I removed one penalty as a bonus for being the only one so far to translate the “for thus was the will of Zeus brought to fulfilment” line decently. Overall decent, the deviations aren’t too annoying.

Reddit OP opinion: They consider it average - not too good or too bad - and they say it is free to read online. Both they and I prefer Hammond still.

Verity (2010)

Deviations: 6

Style: prose pretending to be verse

Other notes: Interestingly, Verity deviates in easier lines and nails the ones nobody did.

Reddit OP opinion: They love this one.

McCrorie (2012)

Deviations: 5

Style: poetry

Other notes: He goes for an epic style and I do not dislike it. He uses unusual English versions of the characters names though (ie Akhilleus, Aides). I don’t mind but it could confuse you.

Reddit OP opinion: They say their rendition overall is inconsistent and claim some of their choices sound bad in English. I did not really find the examples they gave problematic or bad, but maybe it is because in Greek those sentences sound better and McCrorie was going for a Greek voice, which is why it did not feel jarring to me like to the OP. We disagree in this one. I still prefer Hammond though.

Green (2015)

Deviations: 4

Style: poetry

Other notes: It is pretty faithful but I can’t say I find anything impressive about it.

Reddit OP opinion: They love it.

Alexander (2015)

Deviations: 3

Style: poetry

Other notes: She gives a very loyal translation, however lacks a bit in style, it is a little plain for poetry.

Reddit OP opinion: They like it a lot.

Nurcombe (2020)

Deviations: 6

Style: poetry

Other notes: Nothing particular to remark.

Reddit OP opinion: They find it a loyal translation (which maybe it is, because the deviations are six yet not very significant) but think it’s lacking in its poetry. Maybe this is why I found it unremarkable.

Wilson (2023)

Deviations: 9

Style: poetry

Other notes: We Greeks have talked before about Wilson taking too many liberties and her translation of the first paragraph proves it once more. She adds stuff of her own in there.

Reddit OP opinion: They comment on the loose translation but overall like her style of poetry.

In conclusion, my opinion is:

If you want easy, very readable and accurate prose, pick Hammond.

If you want accuracy and one of the all time classics and don’t mind the occasionally challenging poetic read, pick Lattimore.

If your main concern is accuracy and can go for older, harder, more epic sounding prose, try to find the original Murray or at least one of the old revisions but skip the most recent ones.

If you don’t mind a hard poetic read, maybe even odd in English (as stated by the English reader) because it attempts to get close to the Greek poetic voice, even at a paradoxical occasional expense of word for word accuracy, give McCrorie a shot. I don’t know if this made any sense lol I mean that even when he is not extremely loyal word after word, there is a feel of attempted Greek voice throughout his text. In other words, if you want a wildcard, give it a shot. But it could be alienating to an English reader, I don’t know.

Having said all that, again, I could only judge from the first paragraph and some notes by the Reddit OP. I am adding now their in-depth analysis. OP’s favourite for fidelity and style was Green.

Of course, if someone here is fluent in Greek and well acquainted with the English translations, please help us out.

[slaaverin]

Jimin and the Devil perspective

I just wanted to expand some of my thoughts on Jimin and the way he may perceive his relationship with Jungkook in the lense of the Devil card that showed up in their last BMP relationship reading.

It's gonna be all over the place sorry in advance.

I always take readings with a grain of salt of course, not at face value, but it's interesting to try and analyze stuff with this potential perspective in mind.

If Jimin truly sees their relationship in the lense of the Devil, if explains a lot of fucking things about his behaviour in general these last few years. It actually makes a lot of sense.

Like why he has been holding back so much.

I don't want to make two cents psychology on Jimin, I don't pretend to be in his head, I don't pretend to know the truth, it's only my opinion and intuition and I might be completely wrong about all of this 🤡 So take of it what you will.

But guys it actually truly saddens me to say this, but I think a part of why he might see the relationship as the Devil is because Jimin still can't truly believe Jungkook is in love with him. He knows he does, but like there is a deep insecurity underneath all of it that makes it, improbable? Surprising? To him still.

That's why everytime Jungkook says something incredibly romantic or cheesy or grandiose (like "until we are 50") Jimin first reaction is disbelief ("This guy..?"). Yes of course it's also because they are in public. But in fact both factors are linked in the Devil perspective.

Jimin has always put everyone above himself, has always been the caretaker of the group, but also the caretaker for Jungkook when he was growing up. Even if the dynamic changed these days, in his mind he still needs to take care of Jungkook, it's still his job even if JK is an adult now ("as long as you are happy" "all for your happiness").

Who offered to make the AYS first trip? Jimin. And why did he do so? Probably because he saw how utterly miserable Jungkook was, he saw that Jungkook needed this, needed to spend time away from schedule but also together with him. So he catered to his needs.

I'm not saying Jimin didn't need it.

Jimin deeply loves Jungkook, he has loved him almost immediately after they met, Jungkook is the man he's wanted since day one, of course he needs him.

He loves the attention he has from Jungkook. He loves that Jungkook is his. He loves having his name on JK's chest. But Jimin has such a big heart he puts Jungkook first because he still feels he needs to be the caretaker, and that's why he needs to be the responsible one, the reasonable one, the cautious one. And they need to be careful, not for his own sake, but for Jungkook's sake.

He's so used to put others above himself that it seems he doesn't even know how to take a compliment properly. He avoids it. And he's honored to have JK's food, it's an honor to him for JK to do nice things for him. When something is an honor, it's because you place the other person in high standard right?

Did you have fun? It's all that matters. All for YOUR happiness. Jimin doesn't even think about himself for one second. This isn't even about him.

We know how much hate Jimin has been receiving online for years now. That's why he has been away from socmed and that's why he doesn't share any truly personal stuff with us anymore. We can assume he read the hate, he knows the hate, and the hate hurt him in a way for him to pull back this much.

So that's why he can be so careful at times, and that's why he's the worrier of the two, because he experienced directly what hate can do to someone and he doesn't want this for Jungkook. He wants to protects Jungkook from it.

Jungkook doesn't care of course. Jungkook is free. Jungkook lives his life as he pleases, and I'm sure he's not as concerned as Jimin, but still he makes the effort not to simply blurt out "Jimin is my boyfriend" only because he cares what Jimin thinks and if Jimin doesn't feel safe then Jungkook wants to do the right thing by him too.

But all of it guys, the worrying, the not believing completely Jungkook loves him, the caretaker role Jimin has taken upon himself and placing others above, it all comes from an internal imbalance. A false perception.

Jimin has a deep rooted insecurity somewhere. Jimin has pretty much always downplayed his own accomplishements, and in a way his own worth? Which might have been completely due to environnemental influence who knows.

So that's the reason he might see their relationship as the Devil. That's why he thinks it's an hinderance not even for himself but for Jungkook.

It comes from fear. Fear of the outside world, but also fear of not being good enough (which is like the insecurity of 90% of the population of the planet? So yeah not very surprising there)

You can put people above yourself as an act of service, but when it becomes to your own detriment it shows a lack of self-esteem and self-love. You can give to others but you also need to give to yourself, and does Jimin really does this??? I don't know.

Jungkook does not have this issue to that extent because he has that self-love (which Jimin amongst other people also helped him build).

I won't begin to speculate where this comes from or why, there might be many factors at play and it doesn't really matter.

What I believe is that Jungkook being so forward with his feelings for Jimin might help Jimin being more assured in this relationship.

But as long as he doesn't have that internal shift, where he stops buying into this false perception of himself, and whatever role he "should" take or not, it can't really evolve from the Devil.

Because the Devil is pure illusion to begin with, literally. As long as Jimin will stay in this illusion there will be imbalance in the relationship.

But if he can reconnect to himself and to his heart, which I hope the time in military will allow him to do, he can come back to a more balanced state and it will be smooth sailing from there.

I wonder if he will be able to do it at some point, I truly hope so, even if I'm quite sure Jungkook will be there to support him trhough it.

I'm not even 100% sure it's in the conscious mind of Jimin. Maybe it's an underlying thing lurking in the subconscious.

Idk man.

(All of it is only speculation and my own intuition, I am not throwing hate at Jimin in fact there is no judgement in any of these statements, merely me trying to make sense of things.)

Feel free to send me your thoughts (politely) if you have any

I have no conclusion to this 🫡 sorry for my rambling

[biocrafthero]

Some Queer Games and Devs to check out this Pride Month

Hello! I play a decent amount of video games, and like making posts about them. This year, I've been making a lot more posts analyzing and promoting games I particularly enjoy. I'm making this post as a way to share games that have queer developers and/or topics to celebrate this year's Pride Month.

All games' websites will be linked in their respective sections, and I urge you to check out any of the games that speak to you. There's a decent amount of variety on this list, so please give all of them a look!

Please note that all of these games are ones I have personally played--I am not including games I have not played yet for myself. If you were hoping for your favorite title to be on here, I am very sorry but chances are I just haven't heard of or played it yet.

ANATOMY (2016)

ANATOMY is a horror game released in 2016 by developer Kitty Horrorshow (she/her). While the game does not contain any queer themes, the dev is openly transgender.

The plot of the game coincides with the gameplay, which centers around walking through a nearly pitch-black house collecting tapes and putting them in a tape player. Despite its simplicity, the game has been commended by many for being "the scariest game they have ever played." The story of the house is uncovered as you listen to each of the tapes, and reentering each time the game shuts you out.

This game features themes surrounding body horror and psychological horror, and one moment that can be seen as a mild jumpscare if it is not expected.

A full playthrough takes about an hour, with multiple endings. However, all roads lead to the same destination.

ANATOMY is available for $3 USD on itch.io.

We Know The Devil (2015)

We Know The Devil is a visual novel developed by the team Worst Girls Games, which consists of Aevee Bee (she/her) and Max Schwartz (any). Music for the game is composed by Alec Lambert.

The plot of the game surrounds three teenagers who have been sent to a religious summer camp in the American midwest. With just one week left, they're all hoping for everything to be smooth sailing, but nothing is ever that simple. On this fateful night, they must face the devil; two will make it out, but one will be left behind.

The gameplay focuses on making decisions on who gets paired up together, and consequently who gets left out of the interaction. These choices determine what ending you get and there are never any wrong answers.

Queer rep in this game consists of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There is also mentioned homosexuality regarding a male character that is only ever talked about in passing.

This game contains themes surrounding religion, internalized homophobia, along with general homophobia and transphobia. There are scenes that depict underage drinking, vomiting, body horror, and some moments that can be interpreted as self-harm. Some sound effects in the game can be jarring, along with the track "Incense (Smoke & Honey)" from the OST, a song that plays in three of the four endings.

A single playthrough can take about two hours depending on reading speed. There are four endings, meaning a minimum of four playthroughs.

We Know The Devil is available for $6.66 USD on Steam, Nintendo Switch, and itch.io.

There is also the demo for the game, which is free to download off of the game's itch.io page and baked into the Switch port.

Heaven Will Be Mine (2017)

Heaven Will Be Mine is a visual novel also developed by the team Worst Girls Games, with soundtrack once again composed by Alec Lambert.

The game's plot centers around three factions in the solar system. They have all been called back to Earth under threat of death; two factions want to stay in space, while one is choosing to return. At the start of the game, you can choose one out of three characters to follow the POV of, each belonging to one of the three factions.

Gameplay is similar to We Know The Devil, meaning that you make decisions throughout the story that determine what ending you get. There are no wrong choices, only ones that lean in the favor of one of the faction out of your options.

Queer rep in this game consists primarily of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There may be more I am forgetting to mention.

This game contains scenes depicting violence, body horror, and discussions about sexuality, abuse, and trauma. This game is meant for a more mature audience than the others on this list. Some sound effects and music in the game can be jarring. There may be content warnings I am forgetting to put here.

The game has three major story routes and three endings, and each playthrough takes around four to five hours depending on reading speed. At minimum, you will need to play this game three times.

Heaven Will Be Mine is available for $15 USD on Steam, iOS, and itch.io. It should be noted that the price on iOS is different than on other platforms, being listed at $5 USD.

In Stars And Time (2023)

In Stars And Time is a turn-based RPG developed by insertdisc5 (she/they) and published by Armor Games Studios. Music for the game is composed by Studio Thumpy Puppy.

The story follows your typical RPG party, starting the day before the final dungeon and final boss. However, when you go in, you get caught in a trap and die. Time suddenly rewinds, and you find yourself at the day before your party entered the dungeon. You are caught in a time loop, and must find a way to stop the final boss and escape the loops.

Gameplay mostly consists of turn-based combat with enemies, and making the right dialogue choices when talking to NPCs and your party members. There are several puzzles throughout the game that encourage you to use the looping mechanic to solve them.

Queer rep in this game consists of transgenderism (transmasc and nonbinary explicitly, but there are some characters that can be interpreted as transfem, agender, and/or genderfluid), aromanticism, asexuality, lesbianism and homosexuality, and a plot thread that involves t4t romance. All six major characters have canonical pronoun sets. There may be more rep I am forgetting to include here in this list.

This game contains scenes of mild violence, self-hatred and other heavy mental heath topics, one scene of child endangerment, unreality, and optional scenes involving self-harm and suicide.

The average playtime for this game is 26 hours, which increases to 36 depending on how much optional content you engage with. There is technically one ending, but an optional plot thread can get you an alternate version of the ending screen. This plot thread is highly encouraged to be followed.

In Stars And Time is available for $20 USD on Steam, itch.io, Nintendo Switch, and PS4 and PS5.

There is also a previous title titled START AGAIN: a prologue, which is available on Steam and itch.io. This game does not need to be played to understand In Stars And Time, but is highly recommended nonetheless.

Some personal anecdotes regarding each of these games:

In Stars And Time is one of the few games where I saw a character (Siffrin in this case), pointed at them, and said "They're just like me!"

We Know The Devil and Heaven Will Be Mine both have themes of queer solidarity in the face of oppression and it fills me with rebellious rage (positive).

ANATOMY is one of my favorite games ever made, and is objectively the scariest game I have ever played.

Almost all of these games have made me almost cry, which is a very high bar for a game to reach. The only one that didn't is ANATOMY, mostly because it evokes more fear than it does tears for me.

We Know The Devil in particular evokes a very specific nostalgia for me, so the setting and characters hit differently for me than they may for others.

I played In Stars And Time shortly after a breakup and consequently developed the most horrific crush on the character Isabeau. It is frankly quite embarrassing.

[enavstars]

can u also give us fic recs? i wanna read your fic but it's long hdhwhsjs

wanna be in the right mindset

so do u have any?

Here are some fics that I really liked because I thought they were interesting. I loved the way the characters are written, most of them are Kai centered, angst (check the tags for any triggers) and short. Also these are some we used as reference for the characterization of the ninja in Eclipse.

(idk how many recs you wanted so I put a lot)

They turn the light on and it's burning up the sky by Sugarglider_s : very short and poetic Kai analisis angst fic. Absolutely love the way it's written and the interpretation of Kai's character.

Hello my old heart by Bemmiecake : this is a long unfinished fic centered around Kai in the timeskip between seasons 3 and 4. I had to add it because it is definitely one of my favourites, this fic has made me emotional multiple times. It's heartbreaking how Kai has to go through his awful coping mechanisms as the Red Shogun and how he ends up finding a sliver of hope in the process. It also features a well built oc!

What gets out comes around by fruitcasket : this one is Cole centric but explores some contradictions of his character mostly with his relationship with Kai, how despite being a kind soul he acts as a bully towards him quite often.

Too familiar by Maplebreeze : Oneshot about Kai realizing him and Lloyd had similar experiences. Basically RG brothers fluff with some hurt.

Alike, alone by fruitcasket : Morro possesses Kai fic but it’s focused on Kai and Morro’s interactions and similarities rather than actions. It does some character analisis and dives into their mentality.

All of the work, none of the money by ADHDplusCartonnmakesCHAOS : Fic about the ninja learning about Kai and Nya’s childhood. There are many fics exploring this theme but this one is my favourite so far, talking about the subtler things like how costly pads are when you're already short on money to eat.

Fight by Maplebreeze : It describes perfectly how Kai would lose himself to violence (as one of his awful coping mechanisms) again and again and again, to distract his heart from all of those close to him he couldn't save (up until Possessed)

Guilt by Cherry_dynamite : On this fic we finally get closure with Lloyd addressing the fact that he did not see Kai's survival guilt back in the slither pit.

Boiling Point by Salty_Pickle_Bones : It is about Kai and the team being wrecked by Nya's death. It shows just how lost Kai has become, how he's going down the alcoholic rabbit hole again.

Off the deep end by Kiss_The_Cook : Set in the first season when Lloyd is a kid living with the ninja. Kai refuses to get close to Lloyd, despite Lloyd admiring him, because he knows he and Lloyd will get attached to each other and Kai thinks it would be very bad for the kid to do so. Brothers fluff (and some angst), I love how Kai’s mentality is portrayed and of course little Lloyd.

Aftermath by Sugarglider_s : Fluff opposite oneshot. Not really related to the rest but I love it and made a comic about it -> link here.

Feel free to recommend any other fic you like. We are especially interested in those that analyze the characterization of the ninja in depth, more specifically any other character besides Kai (pls let us know, especially ones about Jay, we’re struggling with writing him).

Side note: I know there aren’t many Kai and Nya fics so recommend ones focused on them too pls.

[duachai]

MR. CORAZÓN - L.TM

I need you to hold it 'til you can't, I'll reward you

PAIRNG : Lee Taemin X Male Reader

SYNOPSIS : M/n, a BPM trainee gets handpicked personally by his idol to be his backup dancer for an upcoming tour. As the two get closer, M/n learns the importance of taking care of his body, and so does Taemin.

CONTENT WARNING : This is just an excerpt of my writings just to get the fingers typing. The full thing will be posted on my Wattpad, but look out for some full writings over here too !

AUTHOR'S NOTE : I'm a part-time college student and writing is my complete life. I will be taking requests here and there, but it is so totally appreciated if you were able to donate to my Kofi and help support me. If you can't that's totally fine and supporting me here and Wattpad is just as appreciated, cheers!

LINKS : Wattpad | Kofi

Training under BPM Entertainment wasn’t the easiest career M/n could have chosen. There were so many other options for him. His parents wanted him to be a doctor or lawyer, his school friends were working at restaurants and fast food chains around the city, and others his age aimed for content creators or influencers. But M/n wanted to dance.

Dancing was his calling. His life’s purpose, he would say.

For him, dancing was his stress reliever, something that would make him happy no matter what. That’s why when he found out his biggest inspiration and honestly, his celebrity crush, Lee Taemin, would be signing with his company, he nearly fell out.

“Dude, you know Taemin is coming in today? He’s going to lead our dance class, and oh my God, do you think it’s lame if I ask him to make a TikTok with me?”

M/n chuckled, “You’re so easily impressed, Chanwoo. He’s not even here yet.”

Today, was Taemin’s first day he had free with the new company, and he chose to specifically work with the trainees. And on top of that, it was a rumor some trainees would get promoted to work with him for his re-debut EP.

M/n leaned against the mirror after putting his dance bag off to the side. Nest to him, Chanwoo stretched his arms to prepare himself for class. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime, M/n. We could get closer to our favs even faster than it would take for us to debut!”

“It’s just the fast route if you ask me. And it’s probably not permanent,” M/n whined, but even though his words came out nonchalant, he still had a bit of hope in the back of his mind. Maybe this was his break, a chance to get his face out there.

The next hour, the normal dance teacher began proper stretch instruction. For the next half an hour, the talk of Taemin coming dwindled as the end of the class came near. 

“I can’t believe he didn’t come. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into that choreo.” Chanwoo whined, stomping his feet and he dragged his body in defeat.

M/n followed behind dragging his feet as he rolled his neck and worked the kinks out of his neck. He wasn’t as nearly disappointed as his friend, but a part of him wished that maybe Taemin would come and check him out, as selfish as it sounded.

“Anyways, where should we go eat today? My mom brought some kimchi this morning, but I’m sick of it.”

“You should be thankful you have a mom to bring you kimchi, Woo.” M/n sulked, head still draped down as he kicked his feet.

“Uh, you might want to pause those lunch plans,” A voice said. M/n looked up and another trainee awkwardly tugged at his hair, “M/n, you’re being summoned.”

Being summoned was one of the nerve-racking things any trainee went through. It only meant a few things. Best case scenario, you were being picked to debut early. Worst was… you were going home.

M/n was in limbo about the reason for his summon as he stood in the elevator alone. Everything he did over the last few weeks was analyzed in his mind. Did he mess up a choreo? Does his body need to be more fit? Was he lagging behind?

His whole head spun and he started to get dizzy. How was he supposed to go back to his parents and explain he got dropped from what they called, “A silly dream.” At the sound of the elevator’s ding, it was time to face his worst fear. Or so he thought.

The hallway to the director’s office seemed longer than any other hallway in the building. M/n rubbed his moist hands on his sweatpants, adjusting his hoodie to seem more neat.

As he stepped to the director’s door, he could see in the glass panel door there were multiple people inside. Then he realized, this wasn’t a demotion party, this was a meeting of some sort.

“M/n?” His name was called out by a familiar voice. His dance teacher.

“Oh, uh, hi,” M/n bowed respectfully, still so very confused.

“What are you doing standing out here, go in!” The teacher rushed a smile on his lips. Either this was a super encouraging way to tell someone they were getting sent home or something bigger was around the corner for M/n.

M/n pushed the door to the room open, now he could see a clear view of the people inside. The director of course at the head of the table, then his wife who was his co-director, a few managers M/n had never met, the dance teacher taking a seat closest to the door, the trainee advisor, and well… Taemin.

M/n froze up, are all these people here to see him? This meeting seemed way too elite for him to even step foot inside.

“Shin M/n, right? Go ahead and sit down,” the director pointed at a seat down the front of the table. A seat right across from the star legend.

M/n spent a few minutes staring at the wooden glossed-over table, a few papers passing down his way. A couple of times he looked up, locked eyes with Taemin then looked away like a startled puppy.

“Okay, so before we get started, how about I let our trainee introduce himself. M/n, go ahead and stand so everyone can see you.”

M/n reluctantly stood up, feeling so small in a room where everyone was looking intently. “Um, Hi, my name is Shin M/n. I’m from the US. And I’ve been a train for about a year and a half now.”

“Ok and, tell us why you want to be a K-pop idol, M/n.”

Hearing this question M/n drew in a sharp breath. He’d answered this question about a hundred times, but now it was all something cringe and mush in his head in a room full of people where it mattered.

But then he realized, he mattered too.

—

“Okay! Run the song back, M/n.”

Hustling toward the Bluetooth speaker to restart the song the fifth time that night, M/n quickly reset the song and then ran back to his starting point. The song started, Taemin’s voice coming in smooth and sultry as the sensual and iconic beat, “Move” filled M/n and his partner’s ears.

They had been practicing the duo choreography for hours now, but the more they attempted the more frustrated his partner, Misun, got at him.

“Fuck it!” Misun let go of M/n and stomped towards the practice room door with his bag, “I don’t care if you don’t get it right, I’ll switch partners. You won’t embarrass me in front of the whole world.”

M/n took in a deep breath, as he pulled his hair. He was frustrated too. Misun had quit on him a thousand times during their time together. But now, their deadline was coming in close and the tour was not far away. The whole thing was just stressful.

Just as he was about to pack up, he heard a knock at the door. Taemin popped his head around the door frame with a smile, “Knock knock.”

“O-Oh, I didn’t know you were here!” M/n said, startled and embarrassed.

Taemin stepped closer to the dancer, “I saw Misun storm out while I was passing by, and wanted to check on you. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.” M/n lied, thinking that knew that one of his dancers was lacking this skill and was dancing with two left feet after being picked solely for his dancing, he would be upset.

“No, no, you’re lying.” Taemin said with a pout, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

M/n sighed as he took a seat on the floor next to his bags against the mirror, Taemin sitting right next to him.

“Misun and I… just don’t seem like good partners. I know we’re meant to get what we get and don’t throw a fit like the director said, but working with her is like working with an untrained house cat. One day she’s encouraging, the next she’s clawing at me and everything I do.”

Taemin chuckled, “It’s like that. Working with others can be a lottery. But it’s nothing a little resilience can’t handle,” Taemin reached over and covered his hand with M/n’s resting on his knee, “You're a great performer, you hold yourself up better than most. You just have to believe in yourself. Because I already know I do.”

—

Taemin’s words rang in M/n’s head every second. It made him smile maniacally in the middle of conversations. After their talk, Taemin started monitoring M/n and Misun’s practices, making notes, and helping fix some mistakes. After Misun would leave, Taemin and M/n would go out and get food or drinks.

Their relationship grew closer and closer to the point where M/n had to ask himself, was he falling in love with his idol?

The deadline was due. It was the day everyone learned if they were going on tour with Taemin or being left behind. It was yet another nerve-racking day at the studio where everyone gathered to hear the results.

But when the director came in, everyone’s heart was crushed into tiny little pieces.

“Unfortunately, the tour has been canceled,” He announced, everyone’s shoulders slumping as questions started to form in everyone’s mouths. “I know, I know. But it’s impossible to continue on. Taemin was in an accident that sprained his ankle, so he’ll be taking a rest for a few weeks. He might even need a month to get back to his healthy self.”

As everyone whined about the loss of their gig, M/n’s lips pursed at the thought of Taemin being in an accident to cause him this much pain. The whole rest of the day M/n was anxious about Taemin, thinking of ways he could make sure he was alright.

But as he was sulking outside, a manager approached him. “M/n, M/n! Hey, I’ve got a super emergency, but I need to get this food and meds to Taemin. Could you possibly take it to someone else to give it to him?”

It was more like a request because before M/n could respond the bags were in his hand and the manger was off to his car. M/n stood there stumped for a second before smiling, this was his opportunity to go see Taemin.

It took about an hour to convince a staff to let him go see Taemin personally, he made up some bullshit about him being asked specifically to do this task, and if they didn’t help they’d have to answer to the director. It was stupid, but it worked.

M/n’s legs felt like complete jelly as he walked to Taemin’s apartment door. Traveling in Korea was nothing like the US, and even though he spent so much time there already it never felt to humble him as he got winded every time.

While catching his breath he might have accidentally walked into the door because a few moments later, Taemin opened the door slightly to see a hunched-over M/n clutching his chest.

“M/n? Are you okay?”

“Huh?” M/n said instantly lifting and straightening himself up, “What, oh yeah, I’m totally fine! H-Here… medicine.” M/n exclaimed, awkwardly handing Taeming the bags of convenience store foods and painkillers.

Confused, but concerned about M/n, Taemin opened the door more and stepped to the side, “Come in, you look like you could use some AC and water.”

Resting on the couch together, M/n watched as Taemin devoured his meal as if he hadn’t eaten for days. M/n giggled at the food filling in Taemin’s mouth, stuffing his cheeks like a tiny squirrel.

“You’ve got something there,” M/n chuckled, extending his arm over to Taemin’s face as a bit of rice stuck to the corner of his mouth. M/n’s thumb swiped over Taemin’s lips to catch the rice. Stunned, Taemin froze as M/n lifted his hand to his own mouth, parted his lips, and sucked the flavor off it.

There was something so sensual about that movement, in Taemin’s mind everything was in slo-mo, M/n eyes gazing right into his almost like a seductive taunt. An invite.

Tempted, Taemin’s arm snaked up to M/n’s wrist and he pushed himself atop of M/n, hands now above him, “Is this what you want?” A shiver ran down M/n’s spine, his question burning his skin up. Is cozying up close with your idol really the move? But at this point, Taemin was more than just a celebrity. He was a muse, a sexy muse. But was this a mistake?

“I want to, I do. I just-”

“Thinking about if people will find out?” Taemin said, cutting out M/n’s concerns for display like he was inside his brain. But Taemin reassured M/n with a kiss on the forehead and a sentence that would change their relationship forever.

“Follow your body, it knows you want my touch.”

It didn’t take long for the two to be stumbling into the bedroom in each other’s arms, sloppy kisses and clothes parting with skin onto the floor.

As Taemin sat M/n down on the bed, his tongue worked around in his mouth as one of his hands lightly tilted the dancer’s chin up, the other wrapped around his neck gently squeezing.

“Look at me, baby,” Taemin sang pulling back away from M/n who whined slightly at the loss of the heat on his lips.

“I got you tonight.”