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elvirable · 1 year ago

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Ambrosia (Act 1)

[ Astarion x f!Reader ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 2k | status: ongoing themes/tags: vaginal sex, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light smut.. for now, and a whole lotta angst, will add more smut tho in the next chapters, soulmates, fluff, written as a glimpse into his mind during each act ———–

Astarion would never tell you, though - it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

In other words: A delve into Astarion's thoughts, starting with the day he met you. *will update description at some point. ———– A/N: i wrote this as a peek into Astarion's mind throughout Act 1. plan to continue as i progress throughout the game. lmk what you think and if you like this style!

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Grief had a penchant for wearing different masks.

Phantom faces that slithered through shadows, white-hot wrath that clawed at the throat, an endless gnawing that swallowed one whole: all faces of a primordial monster that had existed before time itself.

Astarion knew all this.

He had met them all – intimate with its simplest form, a cold polarizing solitude; a loyal companion for two centuries, teaching him to lick his wounds with malice. Others had taken everything from him, or they were too weak to lift a meaningful finger. It took several lifetimes to finally mend his precious pride back together. Why should he practice mercy when no one had shown him any?

And by some stroke of luck, he was free – at least for now. Opportunity had fallen before his feet; he could chase after power, clutch revenge in his pale fingers, walk amongst the sun. Red eyes clung to the light glimmering across the water and wavering leaves. A desperate urge pulsed up his spine, insisting he memorize each saturated detail before it faded away like the most ethereal dream. The exhilaration rose wildly before plummeting to the pits of his stomach.

Huh, that was odd. It had never dawned on him that grief could also bloom in the slow, golden sunlight.

Languid beams washed against his flesh and through the faint hem of his shirt. Every fiber of his skin ached, dull and shallow, at the sacred warmth that had been a stranger for so long. He felt this haunted and holy gift – the vigor of life from each ray of light running over his fair face. Reunited once again, like long-lost lovers.

It was the sound of boots thudding against dirt that pulled him back into the world, on the ravaged beachfront.

With straight posture, a hollow smile painted itself across his lips. ==

“You have your mother’s eyes, you know.”

No, he didn’t know.

Quiet was this small voice that, for some odd reason, had grasped onto his conscience the night he died. It had sung loud in the beginning, but now it was just a whisper. Everything else had reduced to dust, long-buried beneath the cold earth.

But if he could conjure the ghost of his mother, he couldn’t be bothered to. Astarion envisioned a sharp tsk , a scowl dripping with disgust if she could see the creature he was today: a thrall to his own hedonistic desires, wielding manipulation and seduction as an instrument. A vampire , taking solace amongst the shadows and draining the life around him.

Maybe he was the same, just calloused and rearranged by the fate spun for him.

However, there was no need to exhume the past. It proved futile anyway; he couldn’t even recall the previous hue of his eyes, much less run his hands over his reflection. The only thing worthy of concern was survival. Memories had been shrouded by the same pivotal virtue, the one that carved the habit to become shapeless – to cater to every impulse and whim of those who could serve useful. Those who could protect him, at least for the time being.

And that was exactly what he tried with you, as his breath was inches from your slender neck and your eyes widened in hazy alarm, catching him by surprise.

“Shit.”

You scuttered to your feet in the frantic silence, dozens of excuses fluttering to Astarion’s tongue. The fatigue of bloodthirst hindered his wit, but he raised his palms in reservation.

He had already taken note of your misleading presence – you were small, but heavens , would you put up a fight. Other companions had already turned towards you for guidance the past few days, and you were carved with a beauty that could intimidate. Though, there were cracks underneath that facade – ones with darkness in between.

Peering into these cracks was his only outlet to earn your trust; after all, it was paramount for survival.

“I – I wasn’t going to hurt you,” exasperated breaths pushed from his throat. “I just needed, well.. blood.”

Basked in the dim firelight, your wary gaze studied him for what he really was: a vampire, a slave to sanguine hunger. He caught the stutter in your furrowed brows before they eased. Smug delight settled in his nerves when you, although with apprehension, allowed him to taste you.

Astarion eagerly obliged, immediately losing himself in the euphoria– the sweet vigor of your blood, how silky and rich. A low hum vibrated in his throat, and he barely registered when your palms pushed his broad weight off of you. Lush satisfaction that quenched his blood-thirst still coursed through him like a stimulant, but he still caught the tail-end of your groan.

“I don’t care that you’re a vampire. Just –,” you paused briefly to reel from your daze. “We’re all a team now, so I have to have some trust in you. Just ask next time.”

He felt happy, more alive – not only from the fresh blood still lingering on his tongue, but that you trusted him. Maybe not entirely, but the anchor had already been dropped; one step closer to wrapping you around his finger, even if you weren’t entirely flexible. He could feel it in your gaze, in the little quivers that rolled through you while his fangs sunk into your soft skin.

Once you had returned to sleep and his frenzied nerves quelled, he mulled over your parting words. You weren’t phased’ that he was a vampire, instead placing emphasis on trust. You were full of surprises – especially when the entire world met him with repulse.

Something that had been fossilized inside him tremored, as if it began to thaw. ==

There was a thin chill in the evening air, in the way nature prepares for a new season. And he hated you.

Well, he didn’t hate you – frankly, he couldn’t get enough of you; that was the issue.

You plagued his thoughts like a helpless addiction, better yet like a mirror; one he had repeatedly peered into, struggling to find the right angle and when he did – he was left staring at you.

Those careful eyes – a mocking reminder of everything he could have been. So different, so resilient, so disgustingly kind.

Since the day he laid eyes on you, he was the first to glimpse at your secret hidden in plain sight. Your habit of hiding yourself from everyone you came across, retreating behind stone-bared walls and tailoring a facade just enough to avoid drawing attention. Reserved lips were a mere confirmation you sealed away a vault of grief that you didn’t want – or need – clumsy, temporary hands to pry open.

That discreet resolve particularly made you the sour dagger twisting between his ribs. Grief had been your companion as well, but its mark never trickled from anywhere else – not a warbled voice or frustrated bout. It was only noticeable through a fleeting glint in your eyes. Meanwhile, he had made this medley of rage and anguish his armor. It had fused to skin, and he no longer knew how to scrape it off. Astarion dedicated decades to cursing the Gods. You ignored them.

He knew he should despise you and eagerly await the day he could shatter this mirror you were – but all bitterness dissolved in your presence. You had become his wonderfully terrible affliction; withdrawals could damn near kill him if they were to happen.

Ribbons unraveled from his chest with each conversation, whether it pertained to the graveness of the journey or a simple ‘good morning’ from your lips. Strange yet blissful, he could feel himself surrendering every bitter pang for the peculiar sensation of… comfort .

Once laced with such harshness, his mind eased with familiarity. An interesting chord of harmony, he thought, the two of you. From the start of the journey until now, you shared an enriching balance. He would encourage you to be more outspoken, while you stirred him to be authentic and soft – even if you weren’t aware.

You were stable like bedrock; never once expecting to be selfless or pious, instead only demanded transparency – at least to the extent he was willing to concede. Aside from the occasional brow-raise or retort, judgment never twisted your face. Respect was a new sensation to him, as you gave him yours.

This dynamic, this balance ; it was irresistibly and invariably warm.

The rendezvous sort of just fell into habit.

Every night he would savor the ambrosia from your neck, and one evening tension gave way to carnal desire. Whether it was a simple cathartic release or not, he didn’t care; tender moments bathed in amber firelight or the hush of the night had always left him craving more.

“You’re such a tease .”

You’d whisper those words every so often those sacred nights, and a rakish grin would slide across his face without fail. Lust gripped him, but never once weaved with routine; the way your legs parted to invite him in left Astarion with an insatiable urge to indulge in everything you were willing to give him. He could spend the entire evening with his head between your thighs, cold hands steadying your quivering legs as his tongue lured you to new heights of pleasure – giving you exactly what you needed.

When he was with you – skin pressed together, desperate hums like honey – he began to relish in taking things slow.

He preferred the nights where your bare body writhed beneath him and melted against his, while he eagerly coaxed wispy whines from your lips. No matter how wet and ready you were, his girth always met resistance as he parted your warm, sensitive walls. Your skin buzzed at the sensation of his cock splitting you open, like every time was the first you’ve been touched.

Desire laced every word he whispered into the curve of your neck, each encouraging and soft. His pace was slow, pushing into the depth of your core, buried deep enough to kiss your cervix with each thrust. Low, guttural grunts left his throat as your body’s natural instinct clenched around his throbbing cock.

Despite his centuries of experience, he found himself struggling to restrain from succumbing to the all-consuming euphoria of it all: your lashes wet from your tears, precious gasps warm against his skin, the desirous ache to fuck you the way that pretty face beckoned to be fucked.

The unbridled intimacy – which felt so real and tender was enough to send him over the edge. His veins hummed with yearning as he drank in the vision beneath him; your skin flushed, shaky whines that sung his name as he pushed you to pleasure. And when you wrapped your legs to press him deeper – he surrendered to the white-hot bliss.

Although Astarion would never tell a soul, his most treasured moments were spent after desperate breaths calmed and the entire world stilled.

It was never long before you lulled into sleep, and your weight slacked against his broad chest. He lingered over each detail with softer eyes; the gentle curl of your lashes, a freckle he had missed the last time. Peace graced such beautiful features, ones that were usually still with resolve. There had never been another face quite like yours in the two centuries he had lurked amongst the earth.

Your chest rose and fell slowly before you would eventually fidget, still deep in slumber, to slink an arm over his waist. His gentle hand grasped the one that rested against his chest, careful not to stir you, as he ran his fingers over your silk skin. Such delicate hands, he mused, that had to grapple their way through life.

He pressed a silent kiss against the back of your palm before laying it back on his chest.

In the silence, something washed over him – that rousing feeling that he never knew quite what to make of.

His eyes swept once more to watch the shuffle of your face, buried now against his side. Your hazy sighs warmed his bare skin. Astarion could almost laugh, imagining your face reddening if he ever shared how affectionate you were in your sleep.

Though he would never tell you – it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

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bongopowder · 11 days ago

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perfect (abbacchio)

⁺ . ✦ .　⁺ jojo's bizzare adventure (abbacchio x reader) ⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺

content (18+): nsfw, oh he hates you...

word count: 4.4k

a tune for you: not another song about love (hollywood ending) lol

Moonlight trickled through the open shutters, the alabaster rays of soft light highlighting the room in uniform streaks, interrupted only by the glow of the monitor in front of you. Map after map, tab after tab, click after click, you persist, shuffling through the information as your eyes strain to continue looking at that damned screen. It had been hours – no, days – trying to figure out where this hideout was, and to no avail, a previously unwavering hope staring to dim with every new dead end. The work usually becomes intoxicating when you sink into it, the circuits of your brain firing with dedication and grit, attention usually unwavering. But it was something about tonight; your mind wandered, shuffling through memories like a filing cabinet, searching for some kind of answer.

You never understood why he hated you so much. What had you really done?

It wasn’t as if you were useless, or a delinquent. Undertrained? Perhaps, you could admit that, but your Stand had only awoken a few months prior, after first meeting Bucciarati and Polpo. Since then, you had been nothing short of dedicated. So why?

You rub your eyes, quickly realizing the futility of being caught up on such uncontrollable things. More important was the map in front of you. Of course.

A gentle knock causes your head to snap in the direction of the nearby door, the emptiness of the room creating a hollow echo.

“Come in,” you call curiously, checking your watch. 10:30.

Bucciarati peeks his head around the door with an appreciative and knowing smile, his hand lingering on the door’s handle as he steps into the room.

“Thought we’d check on you,” he starts, now walking towards the desk. “Any progress?”

We?

You tense slightly as you see Abbacchio follow behind Bucciarati, his unreadable eyes scanning the room for a moment before falling on you.

“You should really turn a light on in here… You’re going to kill your eyes,” Bucciarati says, leaning over to snap on the lamp perched on the desk. The unwelcome brightness causes your eyes to flutter shut for a moment before readjusting with a sigh.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you mumble softly with a nod before turning back to the screen. “As for updates… I can tell you where the location isn’t. No progress on where it is, though.”

Bucciarati hums softly, clearly disappointed as his hand moves to his chin in thought. Abbacchio, on the other hand, makes a sound that can only be described as a grumble, before looking away from the screen.

“Not even a general area?” Bucciarati eventually asks.

“Well, depends on how general you’re looking for,” you reply, gesturing to the map. “I’m certain it’s among these streets, however, it’s probably too large to survey. It’s just… a lot of data to go through alone… Sorry.”

“You need another hand?”

“Well,” you tilt your head in thought. “I guess someone else would help… I think alone I can finish in another few days, but it might be quicker if someone else is available.”

“Abbacchio,” Bucciarati speaks, standing up straight and turning to the man beside him. “Help her tomorrow.” Abbacchio scoffs, waving his hand for a moment before replying.

“She said herself she can do it alone,” he retorts, expression hardening with his mumble.

“She also said it would be faster with help. The quicker we know the location, the quicker we get paid. Now,” Bucciarati continues, placing a hand on Abbacchio’s shoulder before turning to walk out of the room. “Both of you can discuss a plan for tomorrow, and then seriously, go to bed. It’s unhealthy to be working so late.”

A light smile tugs at your lips as you nod, grateful to be nearly done for the day. Abbacchio opens his mouth, as if to protest, but quickly closes it and looks away, nodding with a slight huff as Bucciarati leaves, closing the door behind him.

“So,” you clear your throat nervously, shifting the desk chair to the side before turning back to the monitor. “Really what I need is you to read these files, and-”

“How long is this going to take?” Abbacchio interjects in annoyance.

“I… I don’t know. I mean, if you read fast, a couple hours. Just scan the police reports and tell me where the units were in each of them. I’m trying to triangulate the location,” you explain calmly, trying to soothe your beating heart.

“Fine,” he crosses his arms, standing up straight, narrowed eyes darting across your face.

You nod again, standing up from your chair awkwardly as you put the computer to sleep. Quickly organizing the papers sprawled out on the desk, you try to relax your tensed shoulders, secretly hoping he’ll leave, saving you the trouble of having to engage in small talk. And again, with the quick switch of the lamp, the room is left in eerie darkness.

Much to your surprise, he lingers, body rigid with agitation. He clears his throat as you stand up straight, though you want nothing more than to walk out that door, mere feet away from you.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be doing this either,” you nod and speak quietly, trying to be reassuring as if he expected you to say something.

“Don’t. Just, don’t,” he snaps, his voice strained. It was though you could feel his temper slowly running out. You nod, eyes suddenly finding the carpet very interesting as you wait for him to leave the room.

“Why do you have to apologize all the time,” he mumbles, almost under his breath as he steps towards the door.

“What?” you reply, though quickly regret even speaking.

“You always apologize for no reason,” he turns to you, words almost coming out as a growl. “It really pisses me off.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorr-” you pause, swallowing nervously before correcting yourself. “I mean… I’ll avoid it in the future.”

“Why?” his question lingers in the air, and in the darkness, you swear you see him step closer.

“I… I don’t know, I just feel like you’re always angry at me,” you whisper the last few words quietly, as if almost afraid to admit it.

“You don’t know why?” he scoffs, mindlessly cracking his knuckles. “You never react to anything…” his deep voice drops further, each syllable accentuated with irritation.

You take a meek step back, your hands meeting behind your back as you look up at him. Pursing your lips, ridden with anxiety, you can only wonder what exactly you’re doing wrong.

“God, why can’t you just be a normal person? Even now,” he rolls his eyes, stepping closer to you. “You’re too damn respectful even when you shouldn’t be. It’s infuriating…”

“I’m… too respectful?” you tilt your head to the side, confusion peeking through your nervousness. “Should I not be-”

Something in him seemed to snap, your words interrupted as he pushes you back into a nearby wall, firmly holding you in place by your shoulder.

“You’re too quiet and agreeable, all the time,” he spits with anger, his body pressing closer to yours. “It’s as if nothing can make you angry.”

His breathing grows heavier, dark eyes looking down at you as he tightens his grip on your shoulder, his other hand clenching into a fist at his side. You’re trapped, his hips nearly touching yours, your back pressed tight against the wall, the palms of your hands sweating against the paint.

“I…” you begin to studder, the words getting lost in your throat as you look up into his eyes.

He leans forward, his face now inches from yours, etched with anger and irritation, yet somehow… conflicted.

“You never get mad, or raise your voice…” he mutters softly, voice still dripping with frustration.

His other forearm moves beside your head, further restricting your movement and encasing you further against the wall. You can feel his hot breath against your skin, noticing the way his eyes travel across your features and down your body.

You were sure he could hear your heartbeat, the way it raced like a drum, pounding almost painfully at your ribs, the sensation growing more powerful as the seconds passed. His eyes meet yours, his gaze now unwavering. He’s so close. Impossibly close.

“It’s like you’re… perfect. It drives me insane,” he mumbles, voice barely a hushed whisper, the soft brush of air tickling your cheek.

“W- what?” you breathe in shock, eyes searching his face in the darkness. “What do you-”

“Shut up,” he grumbles firmly, his eyes flickering down to your lips in the darkness. His grip on your shoulder was tight, almost painful, as his other and traveled down towards your face.

Silence permeated the room, broken only by the mingling sound of deep breaths. The heat of your bodies nearly pressed together was overwhelming, and his hand on your shoulder was like fire through the fabric of your clothes. You search his face desperately, your vision subconsciously drawn to his lips, which softly part.

Suddenly, his expression softened, more than before and only slightly, as if the last of his anger and frustration had begun their transition to something new. Something more dangerous.

Within a second, his hand gently releases your shoulder, fingers lingering on the seam of your shirt before wandering down your arm, his touch light and tantalizing. His other hand now reaches towards your cheek, pushing back a strand of hair and slowly caressing it with his thumb.

“Tell me to stop…” he whispers again, almost desperately now, his vision clouded with urgency and desire.

The words catch in your throat, if there were any words in the first place. You can’t reply, or rather, you don’t know if you want to. Inhaling sharply at his tender touch, you can’t seem to look away from him, your body frozen in an unfamiliar blend of anxiety and yearning.

“You should… You should stop me,” he insists, his hand now moving to your waist, pressing you further against the wall.

But you can’t.

God, you want to. You want to leave and forget this confusing interaction ever happened but the more you look up to his lips the more you feel yourself melting into his touch. He hates you, and you know that, but something about it makes your chest tighten.

It’s conflicting; you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

He felt your breath hitch, and in a second he was kissing you. It wasn’t smooth or gentle, but rather like a crash of waves, his teeth roughly colliding with yours in desperation. And how it was filled with frustration, as if you both resented it but couldn't stop.

His hand found your scalp, pulling your head back and deepening the kiss further as his tongue finds yours. God, you hated it. Hated the way he tasted so sweet, hated the way his hand ran up your body, hated the way you wanted him so badly, as if starved for his touch.

The kiss grows hungrier with every passing second, unbroken even as you both struggle to breathe, mind and body focused only on the sensation of his touch. You feel yourself grow lightheaded, breaking away for only a moment to gasp before his lips crash against yours yet again.

You’re drowning in the sensation of him, stars dancing along the sides of your vision as your hands move to his chest, fingers sliding gently across the opening of his shirt. He groans, the sound swallowed by the proximity of your lips, just as he shifts his grip to your waist, pulling you closer into him.

A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel your hips press against his, your back instinctively arching and eliciting another desperate sound from him. He whispers your name against your lips, tone laced with agitation and need as he grinds his hips against yours, pushing you further against the wall.

“Abbacchio-” you whimper back, only to be silenced as he plants a wet kiss just below your jawline.

“Just… be quiet,” he grumbles, lips grazing your neck before he rests his forehead against the wall behind you. You hear his breaths coming in uneven, chest heaving up and down almost tumultuously. He sighs, and you feel his grip tightening in your hair, the tug making you wince slightly.

Gently, you run your hand further up his chest, fingers brushing along his collarbone and neck before settling in his hair. You feel him shudder under his touch, his hand on your hip tightening as his fingers dig into your skin.

“S-stop,” he hisses softly, swallowing a groan caught in his throat. “I’m trying to…”

You bite your lip, trying to control your own breathing. He’s right; you shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s far too late for reason and restraint. You continue to run your hand through his hair, coaxing another soft groan from Abbacchio who presses his head further against the wall.

“You… you’re too…” the words seem lost in his mind, his shallow breaths growing more erratic as your palm feels his racing heart, his forehead pulling back from the wall. “Too… perfect.”

With the final husky word, his lips find yours again as his hand tugs your chin up to meet his mouth. It’s different from before: just forceful and passionate, but with an inexplicable affection, conveyed by the way his hand traces along your jawline, thumb softly caressing your cheek as your lips continue to move against his.

Your arms wrap around his neck, tenderly pulling your body closer to his without breaking the kiss. He responds almost immediately, both hands moving to your hips as he moves you into him, grinding himself against you.

Your breath hitches as he continues, shifting his thigh between your legs and granting you more friction. He rocks you back and forth, upper body still pressing you against the wall.

One of his hands moves around your hips, running along the bottom of your thigh as he tugs your leg up, hand fingers resting along the inside of your knee and pulling it to the side of his body. His hips move against yours again, the newfound angle drawing more soft moans from your lips.

Those sounds were his final straw, his other hand immediately grabbing your other thigh and pulling you off the ground and against his body. His lips never leave yours, the kiss growing deeper and more desperate as his patience wears thin, evident by his bulge now pressed against your hips.

He pulls you away from the wall, now urgently stumbling towards the desk which you had left, hands kneading into your skin. Your body feels as though it’s on fire, the feeling of your back being slammed onto the desk barely registering as your senses focus on the friction between your legs as Abbacchio grinds down on you.

He quickly lifts a hand to haphazardly shove aside the assortment of office supplies and technology hindering your ability lie flat, the monitor in particular making a crashing sound as it hits the wooden floor. He pulls you by the front of your shirt back up to him, your mouth smashing against his so hard and desperately you swear it’ll leave a bruise tomorrow.

His forearm rests gently on the desk beside your head as he situates his body between your legs again, tugging you down so your hips are flush with his own. He lets out a soft moan as you wrap your legs around him, the feeling of his muscles tensing on top of you leaving a shiver running down your spine.

“Off, now,” Abbacchio’s deep voice commands with fervor, already beginning to tug at your shirt. You barely have time to lift your arms as he strips it off of you, tossing it to the side with surprising forcefulness.

Without wasting a second, his hand slips under your bra, cupping your breast and making your breath catch in your throat. He uses his other hand to tilt your head back against the desk, now nipping at the sensitive skin below your jaw.

Your body is taught with desire, the feeling of his hand beginning to press and squeeze your skin only heightening the sensation. Your back arches as you feel his hot breath against your neck, his free hand moving behind you to unclip your bra.

As it falls to the side, he pulls back for the first time, eyes roaming across your body with appreciation and an undertone of frustration. His chest heaves as a soft sound catches in his throat, eyes eventually trailing up to meet yours in the moonlight, pupils dilated with hunger.

“Perfect,” he grumbles under his breath, the flattering word spoken with a hint of vexation. You open your mouth to speak but are silenced by the feeling of him unzipping your pants, already pulling them off of you, with your underwear quickly following behind.

You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, heightened by the feeling of him spreading your legs once again. He settles between them, leaning over you with a forearm beside your head, his hand beginning to stroke the hair along your scalp.

His other hand drifts downwards, touch gentle and light as he teases his way along your sternum and stomach. You swallow in anticipation, eyes looking up at his as you bite your lip, silently praying that he can see how badly you need him without having spoken a word.

His gaze grows hazy, his eyes shutting for a brief moment as if controlling himself, before his fingers finally travel lower, right where you want them.

He lets out a soft gasp as he feels you, before mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath. As he begins to move his fingers against you, you find your head digging further back against the hard wood of the desk, your hand coming up to grip his shoulder.

Softly, he slips a finger into you, his knuckles curling gently to find the right spot. You gasp soft and squirm under him, your fingers digging more tightly into him. His other hand quickly finds its way to your chin, his elbow still resting on the table as he jerks your head back to face him, his eyes staring deep into yours.

“You’re going to look at me,” he whispers demandingly before his finger begins to move in and out of you, his thumb shifting to press against your clit.

You moan softly, eyes squeezing shut as you shiver in pleasure; his grip on your chin tightens as his fingers pause yet again.

“I said, look at me,” he hisses, his breath tickling your lips. You slowly open your eyes again, meeting his gaze as your body shivers in returned anticipation.

He continues his ministrations, fingers now moving quicker and deeper inside of you as you force your eyes to remain open, studying his features: the slight parting of his lips, his darkened eyes, the flush on his pale cheeks.

It’s now that you can really see the effect you’ve had on him, even in the low light. His eyes are half lidded, desperate and needy but somehow still frustrated. The soft purple of his lipstick is nearly gone from his lip, the edges smeared messily like watercolors.

You gasp as he pulls his fingers out of you, trailing up your folds before resting on your lower stomach. The emptiness almost hurts, the aching in your body returning as you crave more of his touch.

His lips quirk into a smirk, the expression almost feeling belittling as you lie beneath him, your naked form contrasting his fully clothed one.

“Please,” you whimper softly, biting your cheek in embarrassment as the words leave your mouth.

He scoffs slightly, pushing off of you as the smug expression remains plastered across his face. You sit up, watching as he removes his belt, the sound of metal hitting the floor almost electrifying, the anticipation nearly drawing a sound from your lips.

With an almost evil tantalization, he begins to strip, removing each piece of clothing slowly and with intent, eyes never leaving yours. He watches carefully as you study him, watching as his toned muscles contract as he moves, traveling down just in time to watch him tug at his own boxers.

His demeanor is different now, the anger and desperation from before morphing into a possessive dominance. The boxers drop to the floor, pooling at his ankles and leaving him completely exposed to your wandering eyes.

His weight is on you again within a mere second, his bare skin pressing against yours, the heat of your bodies mingling as he captures your lips into another kiss. You moan softly, indescribably desperate for him as you wrap your legs around his hips again, tugging him closer against you.

Sounds of pleasure fill the small room as he rubs against you, grinding his hips against yours, a final tease before the main show. Your pleading whimper is followed by a breathless beg, the words swallowed as he continues to kiss you with hunger.

He finally positions himself, his hand moving to your hip as he holds your body in place, lips not breaking apart from yours. Gasping against your mouth, his forehead presses against you as he finally slides into you in a single, fluid motion.

You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, the sensation growing more intense as he begins to move against you, the weight and motion seemingly pushing you further into the desk. Unable to stifle the string of moans that fall from your lips, your hand finds the back of his head, gripping desperately into his hair as your breath caresses his face.

“F-fuck… fuck you,” he whispers, voice cracking in passion as his fingers tighten around your hip, sinking further into your skin. He continues to thrust into you with the smoldering passion of pent-up frustration, movements desperate and disheveled but leaving you a crumbling mess beneath him. It’s electrifying, the feeling of his skin on yours, the sensations of his hands along your body, desperately grasping at you as if he can’t control himself.

He shifts his hand from your hip, running it down to your thigh before hoisting your leg up, hooking your knee around his shoulder. Without giving you a second to adjust, he thrusts harder into you, the new angle sending your head lulling back into the wood, your hair tangling as you squirm and gasp.

Your hands grip desperately at the desk, fingers finding a series of files and feeling them crumple under your forceful touch.

As one of his hands rests on your thigh, keeping your leg held over him, the other wanders across your stomach and up to your chest, giving your breast a squeeze without disrupting the erratic motion of his hips. He groans your name softly, over and over, the words spilling out like a familiar stream, as if second nature.

You feel the pleasure beginning to culminate, the heat building as his hips continue to snap rhythmically forward.

“Don’t… don’t you dare… not yet,” Abbacchio commands through shallow breaths, his pace never faltering.

“I’m- I can’t… I can’t,” you gasp softly, body taught with tension already as you balance on the edge of release, trying desperately to hold on.

He pulls out of you, not even giving you enough time to gasp as he grabs you by the waist, flipping you over on the desk. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your chest hit the wood and your feet hit the floor, your hands instinctively reaching out again, desperate to hold onto something.

A quiet grumble of need fills your ears, paired with the sensation of fingers tracing along your spine, traveling down before gripping your hips.

You hear a deep sigh before feeling the sensation of him slipping inside you again, your trembled moan filling the silence of the room. He wastes no time, already beginning to move again, arguably with more force than before.

He presses his palm down into your back arching your back further and causing a string of curses to leave his lips. Your eyes screw shut and your fingers grip the edge of the desk, unable to focus on anything other than the heat continuing to build in your body, seemingly freezing your other senses.

You can’t take it anymore; the sounds of his groans, only growing louder, in combination with the sensation of his hand now grazing across your body, nearly sends you over the edge.

Another gasp catches in your throat as his hand slips under your body again, his finger slipping between your folds as his hips continue to snap against you. His touch is firm and slightly careless, clearly inebriated by pleasure.

“You… you’d better…” Abbacchio’s mumbling grows more desperate and incoherent with every passing second, his pace speeding up as his finger continues to move against you.

His name rolls of your tongue, becoming louder and more husky as you reach your climax, your body shuttering softly against the desk and seemingly directing him through his release as well. His hips slow, body almost collapsing on top of yours, his chest now pressed against your back and leaving you pinned against the desk.

He sighs softly, head almost nuzzling into your hair as his hand finds the side of your waist, caressing it gently as he continues to lie on top of you. You hear his breaths subsiding, the rising and falling of his chest against you growing less erratic and more peaceful.

You swallow, blinking as you catch your breath and begin to relax against the wood, the weight of his body on yours offering a strange sense of contentment. His free hand glides up your arm, fingers tracing along your skin before reaching your hand. He slides his palm up your wrist, eventually intertwining his fingers with your own before rubbing tender circles along your skin with his thumb.

You’d hate to break the silence. And what could you even say?

Perhaps it is better to appreciate the moment for what it is, with the cold moonlight now a dim flickering through the shutters, his warm breath against your neck, a feeling of drowsiness tugging at your serene consciousness. Whatever feeling of frustration, pent up feelings of lust and passion that were feeling before, seemed to melt away with the night. This current feeling, the lingering intensity of emotion and sensation, alongside the tranquility and silence of your surroundings, could only be described by one whispered, frustrating, and even desperate word.

Perfect.

#abbacchio #abbacchio x reader #abbachio x y/n #jjba #jjba part 5 #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #jjba x female reader #leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio x y/n #jojo golden wind #golden wind #jjba golden wind #x reader #character x reader #abbachio one shot #jjba one shot #leone abbacchio one shot

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

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𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 7

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki @helightknight21 @dylsw @ria-s-writes @sleepymothafterhours

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Here is another chapter cause I'm still writing out the other fics right now :)

Chapter 7: Breaking Point

Y/N’s POV

It’s been, what, two weeks since I last saw Sukuna? Since he left my apartment I finally put my foot down. It feels surreal. Like he was here one moment, his presence filling every part of my life, and then, just like that, he’s gone. I can actually focus in class again, and my thoughts are less cluttered without his constant ups and downs. For the first time in a long time, I’m getting assignments done on time, and keeping up with my workload. But underneath it all, there’s this ache, a hollow space where he used to be.

I try to ignore it, but it’s always there, tugging at me, making it hard to concentrate completely. It’s the little things—his laugh echoing in my mind, the feel of his arms around me, his stupid smirk whenever he got under my skin. I find myself wondering if he’s okay. Did he come out of the hospital yet? Did he manage to finally piece himself together?

A part of me wants to reach out, just to check in. Maybe see if he’s doing better, if he’s still leaning on his friends, getting through each day somehow. But that’s not my place anymore, is it? I gave him so many chances to let me in, to let me help, and every single time, he shut me out. He made it clear he wanted to handle things his way. And I… I need to start respecting that boundary, as much as it hurts.

I take a deep breath, glancing out the window of the studio. The city is buzzing outside, people going on with their lives, completely unaware of the turmoil inside me. I sip my coffee, watching the people walk by, their laughter faintly audible through the glass.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s a message from Utahime.

Utahime: You doing okay? Need anything?

I smile, appreciating her concern. She’s been there since everything happened, her presence a constant comfort, even when I didn’t realize I needed it.

Me: Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking too much, as usual.

Utahime: Well, stop that! We’re going out tonight. A distraction is exactly what you need.

I hesitate, looking down at my phone, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I know she’s right. A distraction might help me let go of these lingering thoughts, these small pieces of Sukuna that I can’t seem to shake.

Me: Fine. Where and when?

Utahime: I’ll pick you up at 8. Be ready!

A part of me feels relieved at the thought of getting out, of being around people who remind me of who I am outside of Sukuna, outside of this relationship that became such a heavy part of my life.

as the car moves through the city streets, I press my head against the cool window, letting the world blur past me. The bass-heavy beat of W.D.Y.W.F.M. pulses through my headphones, each lyric tugging at parts of me I��ve been trying to bury.

Maybe you’re right, maybe this is all that I can be, the words echo, hitting a little too close to home. I close my eyes, feeling the weight of those lyrics settle in my chest. The memories start seeping in—the countless times I let myself believe that if I loved Sukuna enough, if I was patient enough, he’d eventually find it within himself to let me in. That if I just waited, things would finally feel right. But now I wonder… maybe it wasn’t just him. Maybe I should have known better than to believe that love could fix someone so broken.

But what if it’s you, and it wasn’t me?

The question pierces through my thoughts, stirring a bitterness I didn’t know I still had. He wanted to drown in his own pain, to shut me out every time I tried to pull him up for air. I couldn’t have been the answer, and yet here I am, with pieces of him still lingering, haunting me at every turn.

The Uber driver takes a corner, the familiar streets near my apartment coming into view. I force my gaze away from the window, back to my phone screen, trying to focus on anything but him. It shouldn’t hurt this much, but it does—knowing that for all the love I poured into him, it wasn’t enough to keep him from self-destructing.

The song fades as I arrive at my building. I thank the driver, taking a deep breath as I step out, feeling the city air wrap around me. The streetlights cast a dim glow on the sidewalk, and I let myself pause for a moment before going inside. I need to let him go, I tell myself firmly, as I push open the door and head up the stairs to my apartment. I have to learn to let go of the weight of him, of the what ifs and the could’ve been that keep me tangled in his memory.

I climb the stairs, my heart pounding faster with each step as I spot the car parked out front. The familiar shape, that old, dark-colored sedan that Sukuna drove everywhere... no, no, no, I think, my pulse racing. I’m not ready to see him. My body tenses with dread, the past few weeks crashing down on me in waves.

But as I get closer, I realize it isn’t him. The figure slouched in the driver's seat isn’t Sukuna—it’s Yuuji, his face drawn and pale under the streetlight glow. Relief floods me, only to be replaced by confusion and worry. I stride up to him, feeling the weight of all the things I know about Sukuna’s recent spiral pressing on me, unsettling and heavy.

"Yuuji," I say, my voice sharp, "why are you here?"

He startles, looking up at me with bloodshot eyes. I catch the shadow of sleepless nights, maybe even nights spent worrying about Sukuna. He tries to brush off the tension, but I can see right through him. He's younger, not yet old enough to be driving around on his own at this hour. That alone makes my stomach twist.

"I just… I didn’t know who else to talk to," he mutters, glancing away. The hurt and worry in his voice rip into me.

My gut clenches as I realize just how much of Sukuna’s pain has been spilling onto his family. The weight he’s putting on Yuuji, on Choso… it’s more than I ever understood. The anger, frustration, and heartbreak I felt these past weeks—they’re nothing compared to what Yuuji was going through. He’s barely an adult, forced to watch his older brother destroy himself.

“Yuuji,” I say softly, keeping my tone steady, “what’s going on? Why didn’t you call me?”

Yuuji looks up, and in that one look, I see just how much he’s been holding in. “I thought… I thought I could handle it, but… he’s just getting worse. I can’t even talk to him without him blowing up at me. He left some days ago, maybe more, and just stormed out. No one knows where he is. Toji, Choso, and even Geto…they all tried reaching him, but he wouldn’t answer. And then I remembered… you always knew how to reach him when he was like this.”

The ache in his voice cuts through me, and a fierce protectiveness rises up. I left Sukuna to deal with his pain, but it’s clear that his absence has left more than just a hole in my life—it’s tearing his family apart too.

“Yuuji,” I start, forcing calm into my voice. “I know things are tough, and Sukuna… he’s dealing with a lot. But you don’t have to do this alone. Have you told anyone else? Choso? Gojo?”

He shakes his head, looking at the ground. “No. Choso is dealing with enough as it is… and I don’t want them to worry more.”

He’s trying to be strong, trying to hold everyone else together when he’s the one falling apart. I know that feeling all too well. Sukuna and I broke things off because I couldn’t keep sacrificing my sanity for someone unreachable. But I never thought about how much worse it would get for those who couldn’t walk away, like Yuuji and Choso.

I reach out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Yuuji, you don’t have to do this alone. You shouldn’t be doing this alone. Sukuna needs someone to get through to him, and it might not be me anymore—but we can try together.”

He stares at me for a moment, eyes wide and vulnerable. “Do you think… Do you think he’ll ever listen? Or is he too far gone?”

My heart aches at his words. “I don’t know. But we have to try.”

He nods, the glimmer of hope in his expression heartbreaking and determined.

I closed my eyes, gripping the phone tight. I knew Kenjaku could be difficult, even evasive when he wanted to be. Sukuna had a talent for finding people who were just as stubborn and reckless as he was. But I couldn’t back down, not now, not with Yuuji looking at me like he was counting on me.

“Kenjaku, I need to know. Yuuji’s here with me. He and Choso haven’t heard from Sukuna in days. They’re worried sick, and he’s…he’s not okay. I think you know that.”

There was a pause on the other end, the silence stretching uncomfortably long. I could almost picture Kenjaku’s calculating look, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. “He showed up here a few nights back. I didn’t ask questions. He’s been sleeping it off on my couch, but I’ll be honest—he looks like hell, Y/N.”

The anger that had been simmering inside me now sparked, but it wasn’t toward Kenjaku. It was all for Sukuna—his self-destructive spiral, the pain he was dragging everyone into, and the part of him that still didn’t realize how much he meant to those around him.

“I’ll be over soon,” I said, voice steady despite the turmoil within me. “But please, don’t tell him I’m coming. I don’t want him bolting before I get there.”

Kenjaku’s chuckle was dry, but he agreed. “Sure thing. I’ll keep him occupied, though good luck getting through to him. He's really badly…. He’s fucked up, Y/N.”

I hung up, feeling a mix of relief and dread. When I looked at Yuuji, his eyes were wide, filled with a flicker of hope. He didn’t need to ask what I’d found out; the look on my face told him everything.

“I’m going to see him,” I said softly, reaching for my bag. “I’ll try to talk to him, to get through to him, somehow.”

Yuuji looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and worry. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

With a final squeeze of his shoulder, I turned and headed out the door, my heart pounding as I braced myself for the conversation I wasn’t sure I was ready to have.

Yuuji nodded, taking the key from my hand with a somber expression. "I will. Be careful, okay?" he said, his voice thick with unspoken worry.

I offered him a brief smile, though I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. "I will. Just... keep an eye on things here, yeah? If anything happens, call Toji."

Yuuji gave me a small, reassuring nod before he turned to head toward the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the hall as he climbed.

I stood there for a moment longer, staring at the door. The tension was building inside me—this wasn't going to be easy. I had no idea what I was walking into, but I knew I had to face it. For Yuuji. For Choso. And for myself.

With a deep breath, I pulled my jacket tighter around me and left the apartment, locking the door behind me. The walk to Kenjaku's place felt longer than usual, each step heavy with uncertainty. The city seemed quieter tonight, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement as I made my way toward the familiar building.

When I finally arrived, I didn't bother knocking. Kenjaku had given me the code to the door ages ago. I typed it in quickly, the door clicking open with an almost too-loud sound. The hallway was dimly lit, and I could hear the faint murmur of voices from behind one of the doors.

I hesitated for a moment, my hand on the doorframe. This was it. I didn’t know what I was about to walk into, but there was no turning back now.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

I stood there, taking in the scene before me—Sukuna, looking completely worn down, his eyes barely open, his hair disheveled and his face a mess of exhaustion and defeat. The cigarette hung loosely from his hand, the smoke curling up into the air as Uraume stood nearby, her posture stiff, frustration radiating off of her.

"Uraume, calm down," I said, my voice steady but firm as I crossed the room, stepping closer to the couch where Sukuna was sprawled out.

He groaned in response, his hand sliding off his face just enough for his eyes to meet mine, dull and clouded. He didn’t look surprised to see me, but his expression was unreadable.

"Great, now I'm fucking seeing and hearing shit," he muttered again, his voice thick with fatigue and annoyance.

I didn’t react to his comment, not letting it phase me. Instead, I walked over and sat on the edge of the couch, just enough to be close but not invading his space. I glanced over at Uraume, who seemed to be holding her ground, but she took a step back, recognizing that I was the one who needed to handle this.

"Sukuna, stop hiding," I said, my tone softer now, almost pleading. "What the hell are you doing?"

He didn’t answer immediately, instead, taking another drag from the cigarette, his eyes drifting away from mine, focused on the wall as though he didn’t want to face me, or anyone.

"You think running away is gonna fix anything?" I continued, my voice low but insistent. "You think wallowing in this is gonna bring Jin back? Or fix what’s broken?"

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he was going to snap at me again, but instead, he just let out a deep sigh, and the silence in the room hung thick.

"I’m not hiding," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "I’m just... tired."

"Then let us help you," I replied, my heart aching for him, but frustration mixing with it. "You don’t have to carry all this alone."

Sukuna shifted on the couch, his hand coming up to cover his eyes again, but this time, there was something in the way he did it—a sort of resignation, like he knew I was right, but couldn't bring himself to admit it. Uraume stood there, arms crossed, clearly waiting for him to make a move, but it was clear he wasn’t ready.

I stayed quiet for a moment, allowing him his space, but I couldn’t just leave it at that. He needed to hear it, and I needed him to understand.

"You're not alone in this, Sukuna," I said quietly, my voice breaking through the tension. "You’ve got people who care about you. People who are worried. And you don’t get to shut them out."

He didn’t respond immediately, but I could see his body language soften just a little. I wasn’t sure if he was hearing me, or if he was just too far gone to care, but I couldn’t give up on him—not when he was this close to losing everything, including himself.

"Sukuna..." I started again, but Uraume cut me off.

"You can only do so much, Y/N," she said, her tone serious, but a little softer now. "He’s gotta want it. He’s gotta find it in himself to get back up. And we can’t make that choice for him."

I nodded, swallowing back the knot in my throat. I knew she was right. But it didn’t make it any easier.

"You think he’ll listen?" I asked, barely above a whisper, not expecting a clear answer.

Uraume gave a small shrug. "Maybe. But only if he realizes he’s not beyond saving. But that’s up to him."

I glanced at Sukuna once more, feeling the weight of everything press down on me. His eyes were still closed, and he looked so damn defeated. Part of me wanted to scream, to shake him out of his spiral. But I knew that wasn’t what he needed.

What he needed was time and a reminder that he wasn’t the only one who had lost something.

Sukuna's smirk was laced with bitterness, and it was as if the weight of his guilt and self-loathing had manifested in those cruel words. His eyes never left me as he took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke swirling around us like a barrier, creating distance between us that I could almost feel.

I didn't flinch. I refused to let him see the impact his words had, but inside, I was crumbling.

His voice was sharp, cutting through the air, his pain seeping out in every syllable. "You think you can save me, Y/N? Don’t fool yourself. You know I’m worthless."

I wanted to shout at him, tell him he was wrong, but instead, my voice came out softer than I expected. "Sukuna, you're not worthless."

He let out a dry laugh, one that held no humor. "Yeah? Then why the hell did you leave? After we fucked, you tossed me out like I was nothing. Isn’t that what you think of me too?"

Each word felt like a blade to my chest. The anger, the resentment in his voice—it was suffocating. I could see the way his eyes flickered with something raw, something vulnerable that he kept buried under layers of pride and self-doubt. But he was pushing it all on me now.

I took a shaky breath, trying to keep my composure, but the truth was, hearing him say those things cut deeper than I ever anticipated.

I stepped closer to him, ignoring the thick cloud of smoke that hung in the air. "I didn’t leave because I thought you were worthless," I said, my voice trembling but determined. "I left because you pushed me away. You closed yourself off, pushed me out of your life like I was nothing. And I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t see it."

His expression hardened at that, the smirk fading away as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes narrowing at me. "You think I wanted to push you away?" His voice was quieter now, but there was still that edge of anger behind it. "You think I wanted to feel this empty... this fucking broken?"

I shook my head, my heart aching for him even as I held my ground. "No, I don't think that. But that’s what you did. You kept pushing everyone away, even when they were just trying to help. I couldn’t be the one to fix you, Sukuna. I’m not your savior."

He looked away then, the cigarette trembling slightly in his hand. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Y/N?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, the anger gone, replaced by quiet desperation. "How do I fix this? How do I fix myself?"

I didn’t have an answer. How could I? He had to want it, had to find the strength to fight through his demons on his own. But that didn’t mean I was ready to give up on him.

"You can start by not pushing everyone away," I said, my voice softer now, almost pleading. "You’re not alone, Sukuna. Not yet."

For a long moment, there was silence between us. The tension hung in the air, thick and heavy, as I waited for him to respond. But instead, he just took another drag of his cigarette, looking lost in his thoughts.

"I never asked for any of this," he muttered finally, his words barely audible. "I never asked to be the one holding everything together. I never asked for... this pain."

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t have an answer for him. All I could do was watch him, hoping, wishing he would find the strength to face what he had been running from.

But deep down, I knew it wasn’t up to me. It never was.

His words hit like a punch to the gut. The rawness in his voice, the way he almost choked on the words—it was as if he was tearing himself apart right in front of me. I watched him, frozen, my heart pounding as he looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Just go, Y/N. Please," he said, his voice rough, barely holding it together. "You made the right choice. Don’t let guilt eat at you. Your love... it wasn’t enough."

I felt the sting of tears welling up, but I forced myself to hold them back. This wasn’t the time to break down. He was pulling up walls as quickly as I tried to break them down, and part of me wondered if he would ever let anyone truly see the pieces of himself he kept hidden. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that it wasn’t about my love being "enough"—that he was worthy of love even in his darkest moments. But I knew, standing there, that he wouldn’t hear it. Not now.

"Sukuna," I began, my voice catching despite my best efforts to stay steady. "It's not about being enough or not enough. You’re worth more than this... more than what you think of yourself right now."

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t... don’t do that. Don’t pretend I’m some lost soul you can save. You’ve done enough. It’s... it’s better this way."

"Better this way?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, feeling the frustration bubbling up. "Better for who? Because I don't think it's better for you. Look at yourself, Sukuna. You’re drowning, and you’re just... letting it happen."

He clenched his jaw, his hand shaking slightly as he flicked the cigarette into an ashtray. "Maybe that’s what I deserve," he said quietly, almost to himself.

The silence between us felt thick, suffocating. I took a step closer, reaching out, but he backed away, pressing himself further into the couch as if my touch would somehow make things worse.

"If that’s really what you believe..." I whispered, my chest tight. "If you really think you deserve this pain... then I can’t force you to change your mind. But I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, something soft and vulnerable, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He lowered his gaze, the same smirk that once felt charming was now nothing more than a mask.

"Just... go," he whispered again, his voice so small it was almost lost in the room. "Forget about me. Move on. It’s better that way."

I stared at him, wanting to reach him, to pull him out of this dark place. But maybe he was right. Maybe I couldn’t save him. Taking a shaky breath, I nodded, my heart shattering with each step as I turned toward the door.

Before I left, I looked back one last time. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, his eyes fixed on some distant point on the floor, lost in his own torment.

“Goodbye, Sukuna,” I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips. And with that, I stepped out, leaving behind the man I’d loved—and the pieces of myself that still wanted to believe he could be saved.

Sukuna's pov

I watched the door click shut behind her, the silence settling thick in the room. My chest felt hollow, but the ache gnawed deeper, clawing its way up my throat. I turned to my side, curling up on the couch, pressing my hand over my eyes as if I could shut out everything I’d just done. I’d pushed her away—again—and for what? To prove some sick point that I was beyond saving? That I didn’t deserve her?

I could still smell her faint perfume lingering in the air, feel the warmth she’d brought with her now slipping through my fingers. It wasn’t like I didn’t want her here. God, I wanted her more than anything. But how could I let her stay, knowing what a mess I’d become? How could I put her through the hell I was living every day?

My mind drifted back to Jin and Gramps, memories that never stayed buried long. Jin would’ve slapped me across the head if he saw me like this, wasting away, hurting everyone who tried to care. But I could never forgive myself for that night, for not being there when he needed me. And now, I was dragging Y/N down with me.

The silence felt louder now, each second stretching painfully, mocking me. She’d tried, even after everything I put her through. She tried to reach me, to pull me out of this pit I’d dug for myself. But I’d thrown her love back in her face. Again.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, pressing my fists to my temples. I wanted to cry, to scream, to feel something other than this endless, numbing void. But even that felt like too much. All I could do was lie here, drowning in my own misery, pushing everyone who mattered further and further away

Kenjaku grabbed my wrist, yanking my hands away from my ears. "Look at me, Sukuna," he snapped, his tone harsher than I'd ever heard. "This is your last chance. No one else is going to fight for you if you don’t fight for yourself."

I kept my eyes shut, trying to hold on to the darkness, anything to keep from facing the weight of his words. What good was that going to do? The damage was done, and I’d burned every bridge around me.

I tried pulling my arm free, but his grip tightened. "You think you’re the only one hurting?" Kenjaku’s voice dropped, each word laced with a fury that broke through my wall of apathy. "Your brothers are terrified. Toji, Uraume—they’re all watching you tear yourself apart. And Y/N? She might be gone, but you know damn well it’s killing her too."

My hands trembled as I finally opened my eyes, meeting his stare. I could see the disappointment, the anger. But there was something else, something that looked too much like hope.

"Why does it matter?" I murmured, my voice cracking. "I’ve already lost everything. What’s the point?"

Kenjaku’s expression softened for the briefest moment before he pulled me up to sit. "You haven't lost everything, not yet. But if you keep pushing everyone away, there will be nothing left. Not your friends, not Y/N, not even your own damn self."

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and I felt a flicker of something I hadn't felt in months—fear.

I held his stare, my jaw clenched, trying to keep the defiance in my eyes. But Kenjaku didn’t look away, his grip on my arm tightening. "What did you take?" he asked again, his tone sharper, cutting right through me.

I tried to shrug him off, mumbling, "Just something to take the edge off. Why does it matter?"

"Because," he hissed, shaking me slightly, "you can barely stand right now, Sukuna. You're falling apart, and you keep reaching for whatever dulls the pain instead of facing it. So I'll ask you one last time—what did you take?"

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his demand. I didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want him to know how far I'd fallen. But the way he was looking at me, with a mixture of anger and something close to pity, broke through the wall I’d put up.

"Xanax... some Oxy," I muttered, barely audible, each word feeling like a confession. "And... a couple drinks." I looked away, shame burning in my chest.

Kenjaku's face twisted with a grimace, and he let go of my arm, taking a step back as if the truth was too heavy for him. "This is what you're doing to yourself?" His voice was low, thick with disappointment. "This isn’t numbing the pain, Sukuna. It's destroying you."

I sank back onto the couch, the weight of his words pressing down like a boulder on my chest. "Maybe that’s the point," I whispered, barely holding back the rawness in my voice. "Maybe that’s all I deserve."

Kenjaku knelt in front of me, looking me dead in the eyes. "Then prove yourself wrong," he said firmly. "If you can’t do it for you, then do it for them—your brothers, your friends, everyone who’s still here trying to reach you. But you have to decide to get up and fight."

My answer was simple, and final. "No."

Kenjaku stared at me, frustration flaring in his eyes. I could tell he was holding back from saying more, like he knew words were useless right now.

“You want to keep drowning?” he asked, his voice sharper, leaning closer as if to pierce right through me. “You think this is easier, huh? Wasting away until there's nothing left?”

“Maybe it is," I said, my voice hollow. "Maybe it’s the only way I can even get through this. The only thing that keeps my mind off... everything.”

“You’re just running,” Kenjaku shot back, anger finally surfacing. "You think the pain will leave you alone? It won’t. It’s gonna keep eating you alive until there’s nothing left, Sukuna. Nothing for you, and nothing for the people who actually give a damn about you."

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms until the sting cut through the haze clouding my mind. “Then let it. I’m not worth anything to anyone.”

Kenjaku exhaled, the fight leaving his shoulders. He stared at me, his eyes dark and steady. “You keep saying that, but it’s not true. You know it’s not true.”

Silence settled between us, heavy and unbreakable, until he finally straightened, his expression hardening. “Fine. You want to stay here, stay here. But don’t expect any of us to stick around and watch you throw your life away.”

#jjk x black reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna angst #sukuna x female reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #black tumblr #black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sherewrytes

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dbnightingale24 · 7 months ago

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React

A Stepcest love story about Jim

Because why not? I have a million other stories to update, so why not add another one to the list? I've been working on this story for a while, but I've been anxious to upload it. I've decided to go back to my old ways (for this story only) and not give you guys a novel. We're gonna do this bit by bit. I have more than enough to post the full story, but I know a good amount of people haven't seen it. As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for an amazing moodboard! I think the world of you, and I can't wait to hug you again, and cry entirely too much over life. ANYWHO, let's get started, shall we?

P.S. The playlist is going to be the same for this entire story. K, lets go!

Word Count: 3,514

Warnings: Swearing, Family Drama, Stepdaughter/Step Father interest, Drinking, Drinking Relapse, MINORS DNI, Emotional Cheating...I think that's it for now?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You're Turning Me Cruel Cause I'm Just Wanting You To React

Summary: You and and your Mother have never had the best relationship, but the both of you have always tried. However, when she invites you to stay, and you're met with the last surprise you were expecting, will any progress be made? Or will it just get worse? Catastrophically worse.

I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior/relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1

It wasn’t exactly exciting, going home for Summer Holiday, but the thought of getting your own place just feels too daunting . Yes, graduation is coming up soon, but with the cost of everything as it is, you’d much rather wait until you actually have to rent one. Yes, you’re Mother is the last person you want to spend any time with, but who knows? Maybe she finally got a handle on her drinking?

Yeah, that’s likely.

As you knock on her door, you shift nervously from foot to foot, and you don’t know why. It doesn’t matter that you two rarely talk, or rarely see each other, she’s still your Mother.

Whether she likes it or not.

“Hello,” a man greets with a soft smile once he opens the door.

Well, hello to you too.

“Hi, I’m looking for Y/M/N? Last I was told, she still lives here.”

“She does,” he laughs softly, standing aside to let you in, “she ran off to the store. She wanted to be back by the time you got here. She’s been anxious,” he confesses softly, closing the door.

You give him a look over as you place your bags down, and you can’t help but marvel at how handsome he is. He has beautiful ocean blue eyes, a slender physique (but you can tell there’s some muscle there), black hair that’s starting to gray a bit that you just wanna run your hands through and, lastly, a gold band on his finger.

Pause. There’s no way...oh, fuck no.

“What’s your name?” you ask with a kind smile, though your mind is racing a million miles a minute.

“Jim. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“That wouldn’t be because you’re married to my lovely Mother, is it?” you question, and he softly shakes his head.

“She wanted you to be here.”

“Oh, I bet she did,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I bet she fucking did. Do you want a drink? I want a drink.”

“She doesn’t keep booze-” “Oh yes she does, you just have to know where to look,” you smirk, making your way into the kitchen. “How long have you two been married?”

“About a year.”

“Well, God bless you,” you mutter, stomping around on the kitchen floor. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone all saintlike on me now,” you scowl, before finally stomping on the hollow tile. “If there’s one person I know, it’s my Mother,” you scowl with a nod, before crouching down and picking at the at the worn tile. “So, how did you two lovebirds meet?”

“Maybe it would be best if she told you,” he mumbles as you pull up the tile on the floor.

“I’m gonna level with ya, Jim. My Mother and I? Not the best relationship. So, whatever she says, I’m not gonna believe her. Hell, she’s been married a year and I’m just finding out about it. So,” you huff, standing on your feet once you’ve dug out the bottle of whiskey from the floor, and recovering the hole with the tile, “how’d you two meet?”

“At a bar,” he tells you, seemingly shocked that you actually did find a bottle. “Someone I used to see worked there. Her and I broke up and soon enough I started seeing your Mother.”

“I’m guessing things went well if you married her,” you mutter, grabbing two glasses.

Do you mean to turn her world upside down? No. However, it doesn’t change the fact that your world has been turned upside down, and you can’t help but be a little irritated by it.

Irritated by her.

“Do you have a drinking problem too?” you ask, pouring you both a drink, “don’t wanna mess up anyone’s progress or lack of,” you scoff.

You really don’t mean to be rude to the handsome man, this is just the last thing you expected.

“No, but-”

“Well, lets work on that,” you laugh humorlessly as you raise your glass to cheers him.

Once again, it’s not the handsome stranger’s fault, but you’re also caught completely off guard.

“Has she cut down on drinking?” you ask, after taking a sip.

“She really hasn’t started drinking since she told me you were coming home for Holiday.”

“That makes an awful lot of sense. I handle her about as well as she handles me. She didn’t give you a warning?”

“She just said that things will be tense for a few days, but things will smooth out.”

“ ‘Things will smooth out’. Well, that’s one way of putting it. Well, Jim..Dad,” you scoff humorlessly, “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this,” you mumble as the front door unlocks.

“Honey, is she...oh,” your Mother sighs as he closes the door.

She’s more than likely seen the bags by the door.

“I wanted to be here when you first got here, but I realized I forgot a few things at the market and had to...ah,” she mutters, taking note of both you and Jim drinking whiskey.

How the hell else did she think this was gonna go?

“I know what it looks like, but it’s not-”

“If you’d have told me, I would’ve gotten you a wedding gift,” you laugh as you raise a glass to her.

“I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“You got married and this is the first time I’m hearing about it. What reaction did you think you were going to get?”

“I just knew you wouldn’t get it. I know we’ve been through a lot, but once you get to know him-”

“I don’t need a Father, Mum,” you shrug before finishing off your drink. “I’m not even trying to be a cunt. I’ve just gone all these years without one, and I’m a full grown adult now. I just would’ve appreciated a heads up,” you shrug before pouring yourself another glass. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

You’re quick to grab your bags in the entry way, and finally make your way upstairs. You only make it three up three steps before an argument breaks out. You take a deep breath before continuing your way up the stairs. You know what’s coming, and you know it’s gonna last for the entirety of the Summer. God, if only you knew how much damage you’d truly done.

You would’ve never come home for the Summer.

“I don’t want to argue,” Jim sighs, clearly exasperated, “I just wish you would’ve told me! I’m coming into this looking like the bad guy.”

“Of course, make it all about you,” your Mother slurs and you roll your eyes.

They’ve been arguing since you’ve retreated to your old bedroom. You truly didn’t mean to start an argument between the two of them. Despite what your Mother believes, you do want her to be happy, but you’re just tired of her shit. At this point, it truly feels like she goes out of her way to make things complicated, and there’s no fucking reason for it. She always needs to paint someone else as the bad guy and, for as much as she may love Jim right now, she will make him the bad guy if she thinks it’ll workout better for her in the end.

“Honey-”

“I’m meeting up with Rose. Don’t wait up,” she slurs as she storms out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Somewhere deep, deep, down inside, you do feel bad. However, it’s not bad enough for you to actually apologize to her. Yes, you’re used to her bullshit, but this? This is a new level of audacity, even for her. Not to mention, you do feel bad for Jim. You know absolutely nothing about the man, so he may be complete and total scum, but you do know she won him over with a personality built on lies. However, you truly didn’t mean to drag him into you and your Mother’s years and years of drama.

Which is why you’re now picking up your empty glass and making your way downstairs, taking a deep breath as you reach the last step.

Can’t hurt to get to know the man that’s apparently your new stepfather.

“I’m sorry about that,” you greet as you make your way into the kitchen, taking a seat at the small table.

“It’s not your fault she kept things from me.”

“While that is true, I didn’t have to burst your bubble like that. You two had a life, and I just came in and made a mess of it. When it comes to my Mother, no one ever seems to make me as angry as she does.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry before,” he laughs halfheartedly.

There’s an awkward silence, so you take the moment to pour the both of you a drink.

“She told me that you’re in your last year of Uni?”

“Yeah, so it’s about time for me to find my own place. The price of everything is just so damn high right now,” you sigh, finally looking over at him.

No, you’re not exactly a fan of your Mother going out and getting married without a word to you, but you have to commend her on her taste in men.

The man is gorgeous.

“You’re not wrong, I don’t know how your Mum was able to afford this place before I moved in.”

“Her parents. My grandparents kind of always took care of us, because shes always been a wild child and they never really trusted her to be able to make a stable living. When they died, they left her everything. Including this house,” you mumble, swirling the dark brown liquid around in your glass. “Lets table the talk about the crazy lady for a bit though,” you smirk and he chuckles, “tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Is this your first go at marriage? What do you do for a living? Any kids? Fill me in on all the basic information I should know,” you shrug, cocking an eyebrow.

“I’ve got two kids, this is my second time being married, and I’m a writer.”

“Your second time getting married, and you chose my Mum? I’d really love to know how she won you over.”

“She loves does love you, Y/N.”

“In her own way, yes she does. However, you’ll come to find this Summer that, that love will drive you mad. You’ll find out just how strong your love is for her.”

“Well, what’s so wrong with you?”

“God, if I knew, I would tell you,” you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. “I think I just remind her of failure, which is fine by me, honestly. I learned to accept it early on, and we’ve both been better for it. I call her on Christmas and her birthday, and that’s enough. She calls when she remembers or when she’s drunk and sad, but I barely heard from her this past year and I assume that’s because of you. Thanks for that.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, I genuinely mean that. You’ve made her happy and I appreciate that. I’ll try not to stay long-”

“She does want you here,” he interjects sincerely before taking a sip of his drink.

“Not as much as you’d think she would. You are her do-over, and I could easily ruin that for her. My best friend lives close by and I wasn’t gonna ask to stay with her, cause she has a daughter so space is limited, but I will. I know she’ll be more than happy to have me, and I miss her like crazy anyway.”

“I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

You stand up and grab your glass and slowly make your way to the counter, “well, you shouldn’t because you’ve done nothin’ wrong. You can’t break or cause more damage to something you had no knowledge of. Have you eaten today?”

“Y/N-”

“It’s alright, Jim. You’re not breaking up some happy Mother/Daughter relationship,” you laugh softly. “Now, have you eaten?”

“I had a light lunch, your Mother said she wanted us all to have dinner together.”

“She has these ideas, and then she gets drunk. Lets see what we have,” you mutter, opening the fridge and bending over to see what your Mother picked up from the store.

You and Jim spend the next hour or getting to know each other as you bake some salmon, make some mashed potatoes, and steam a bit of broccoli. You make sure to make enough for your Mother, because you know by the time she gets back, she’ll be shitfaced and will need something in her stomach as soon as she wakes up tomorrow.

“You and your Mother have two very different cooking styles,” Jim notices as he leans against the counter, his third glass of whiskey in his hand.

“My grandmother taught me how to cook,” you smile at the memory while taking the salmon out of the oven, opening the foil just a bit to check on it. “My Mother learned how to cook from me and then put her own twist on it.”

“What did your Mother teach you how to do?”

“Umm, I’m really good on skates because of her. That would be our thing on the weekend. She taught me that getting hurt is okay and apart of life, and that I shouldn’t ever fear pain from anything or anyone. That she was right about.”

“She truly was excited about you coming, Y/N.” “I don’t doubt it, but she and I...we’ve always had a difficult relationship. She never wanted to be a parent, and she got to play “big sis” until my grandparents died. I was 12 and she never grew into the roll of being a parent. I used to hate her for it, but I learned to accept it. She kept a roof over my head, food on the table, and attempted to show up to school events. She wants a friend, not a daughter. There’s a reason she never told me about you, can you pass me two plates?” you ask, turning the oven and the stove off. “You seem like a nice guy though, and that’s what she needs. She’s never had a good guy before.”

“What about your Dad?”

“I’ve seen him twice, and both times, he was a complete and total cock. Pardon my language,” you smirk as he laughs. “No, my Mum wasn’t all that great, but at least she stuck around and tried. He only came around for money, both times my grandparents told him no and Mum threatened to break his knee with that fire poker in the other room.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t a good man,” you shrug, starting to plate the food.

“I feel like I should’ve helped.”

“You kept me company, and that’s just as good as helping,” you smile up at him.

“I should at least set up the table,” he offers, clearing his throat as he stands up right, taking the silverware out of the drawers.

“If you insist.”

“Can’t have you thinking too little of me so soon,” he teases and you scoff.

“You get a pass for today, it’s been a rough one for you.”

You don’t notice the way his eyes travel over your body, and even if you had, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. He’d had a few drinks and his day went from good to a headache. He wasn’t the first guy to look you over and he wouldn’t be the last.

While he poured more drinks, you grabbed two water bottles out of the fridge, before finally taking a seat across from him at the table. Once again, the conversation flowed effortlessly and, the more you both drank, the harder it got to remember that this man was married to your Mother.

He’s your stepfather.

When dinner is done, he insists on doing the dishes.

“It’s no big deal-”

“I derailed your day a bit, it’s the least I can do,” he laughs softly as he starts washing off the plates.

“Alright, you have a job, you’re a good Father, you’re good looking...why didn’t your first marriage work out?” you question, leaning against the counter.

You don’t miss the heavy sigh or the way his movements faltered a bit before answering.

“I cheated on my wife with a family friend. She never found out that it was a friend, but it wasn’t hard for her to figure out that I’d been up to something I shouldn’t have been.”

“Ah, so you are capable of making a mistake.”

“You’re not mad at me?” he laughs softly.

“It’s not like you cheated on my Mum, besides, it’s not like her record is perfect.”

“No stern talking to?” he smirks towards you.

“I’m just getting to know you,” you laugh. “She clearly saw something in you and didn’t feel the need to consult me on it. If she trusts you, I’m gonna have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”

“You are somethin’ else.”

“I get that a lot.”

For just a moment, as both gaze at each other, you forget that there’s a line you shouldn’t be crossing with this man. It was literally just discussed that he’s married to your Mother. That doesn’t seem to matter right now , though. Not when he’s fun, handsome, and looking at you like he wants to get to know every little thing about you.

Well, that is until your Mother comes stumbling through the front door.

“Fuck!” she exclaims, crashing into the wall.

“I’ll handle it,” you mutter, quickly pushing yourself up from the counter.

You need to get away from him anyway.

“I hope you’re happy,” she slurs as you collect her. “He hates me and it’s your fault. Men always hate me because of you!”

“So happy to be staying here,” you mutter, kicking the door close as you help her stand upright.

“You ran your Father off, my other boyfriends-”

“Did ya eat tonight?”

“As if you give a fuck,” she scowls barely bothering to help you get her up the steps. “Jim is good man-”

“He’s done nothing but sing your praises all bloody night, he’s not goin’ anywhere. Now, stop being difficult and walk with me.”

“I can do it m’damn self!”

“As tempted as I am to let that happen, you’d break ya neck and I’d feel bad. Now, lets go.”

“Bitch.”

“I know,” you sigh.

Lacking both style and grace, you get her up the stairs and unceremoniously into the bed, helping her to get her shoes off as well as her shirt. By the time you pull the covers up over her, she’s snoring. You’re quick to get to the bathroom and fill up one of the disposable cups in there and grab two aspirin, before quickly and quietly making your way back into the bedroom and putting them down on her nightstand. Giving your small kiss on her temple, you quietly make your way out of the room and let out a deep breath.

There’s no way you can stay here for the entire Summer.

With a look of pure pity written across his face, Jim asks, “are you okay?” once you’re back in the kitchen.

“Nothing I haven’t handled before,” you respond with a defeated smile. “I’ll be out of here by the time both of you are up.”

“Y/N-”

“She’ll be like this for the entire Summer if I stay, which will make the both of us miserable in return.”

“I can talk to her.”

“You’re sweet. I can see why she worked her magic on you.”

“Please-” “Thank you for doing the dishes and putting the food away. Don’t stay up too late,” you smile at him before getting on your tiptoes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Jim. It was nice meeting you.”

You grab your phone off the table and make your way upstairs, laughing softly and shaking your head at your Mother’s snores which have grown much louder in the short amount of time it took you to get back upstairs.

Plopping down on your bed with a heavy sigh, you unlock your phone and text the one person you can always count on.

Y/N: I’m sorry it’s so damn late, but would you be okay with me stayin’ with you for the Summer?

Cherry Bomb: Just put your goddaughter down. You know you’re always welcome here! Y/M/N being a cunt?

Y/N: I’ll tell you all about it in the mornin’. Love you and thank you.

Cherry Bomb: I should’ve been ya first stop ;)

You laugh softly, placing your phone down on your nightstand and turning over to your side, doing your best to ignore the events of the day. You’re half asleep when you hear Jim make his up the stairs and join your Mother in the bedroom.

‘Soon enough, all of this will be a distant memory,’ you think to yourself as you drift off to sleep.

If only that were true.

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poisonhemloc · 1 year ago

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Why is Chert on the ‘best place in the system to see astronomical events’ when it’s. Not? Ember Twin is right next to the sun; it’s a huge part of their view no matter where they go and it's blocking out a big chunk of what they can see. Even just the Attlerock’s north pole is almost definitely a better spot.

So, the biggest thing, someone had to be on the Twins. Not on Ash Twin, cause it’s starting the loop full of sand, but Ember Twin is fine to start on.

Which derails me from why Chert is Where they are (I’ll come back to it I promise) to why Chert is How they are- if they’re on Ember Twin, why have they not found the Sunless City yet? Pretty universally (I know my launch order isn’t the word of god one but I’ve chosen my hill to die on) Chert is one of the older astronauts, how have they been on Ember Twin for a while and not found it?

Because they’re not an explorer of anything in our system. They’re observing the stars, not exploring the Twins beyond what they need to. Their exploring in their system- the Attlerock, the quantum grove on Timber Hearth, the locator on Ember Twin’s south pole- is done for right now, and they settled to start observing and updating star charts. Anything now is just shooting their scout around to glance at things. So, no exploration under the surface, but, between them mentioning the tunnels under the surface and them telling you about the Nomai wreck on Ember Twin, you have a good idea that something exists under the crust here, just like Brittle Hollow. (Also of off topic note, the Twins are also the only planet(s) that don’t have anything of Feldspar having been there- the only sign of Hearthian life is Chert’s notes on the locator on the south pole and Chert themself on the north pole.) You can’t have an adventurous or archeology minded Chert without them having found something of the Sunless City and erasing the player’s status as the Hearthian who discovers that. You could have a lazy Chert, but Chert’s major reason for being in the game requires them to be an astronomer. And that role, in game, is to be your first (or second, if you’re observant) hint that no, you can’t save everything, that’s not your end goal here. A lot of people do get blindsided by the knowledge in the Sun Station, but, both Chert’s progressive panic attack and the visible supernovae littering the sky exist to give you hints before you get there.

And coming off of that, Chert is the only traveler without a separate mention when you’re in the village. Gneiss and Hornfels both tell you about all three active astronauts in one sentence, then Feldspar is talked about specifically by Hornfels, Gneiss, and Tephra, Esker is mentioned by Hornfels and Marl, Riebeck is mentioned by Hal and Moraine, Gabbro is mentioned by Hal and Spinel, and no one brings up Chert except in the context of everyone else (And their exhibit in the museum- the supernova one. Chert and Gabbro both have mentions there- Gabbro is the traveler with the second most mentions in the village, because Riebeck doesn’t have anything in the museum). And this is mostly because directing you to Chert first, or very early on, gives the game away. Most of their dialogue is about what’s happening with the sun- if you make it to them, even just as your second stop that first loop, you’re gonna be told everything is dying, way before you have the thread of hope that you can fix whatever the Nomai did to make the sun blow up! So it’s better to let the player make their way to Chert… later. I think, in as much as there’s an ‘intended’ order to meet the other travelers, Chert is second to last on the list, but they don’t need everything Feldspar the puzzle piece needs.

And all of that is also why Chert is on Ember Twin, not anywhere else in the system. Hornfels directs you to the Attlerock if you tell them you’re starting with something small- it’s likely to be one of the first places someone will go, or an early stop, and (I’ll touch on this again for Esker but) you don’t go back. So putting Chert, with dialogue that changes throughout the loop, on the Attlerock, means they’re probably not going to fulfill their in-game role. And again, while further away from the sun would be better for their observing, Brittle Hollow’s surface is too dangerous due to the meteors, Giant’s Deep has that atmosphere, and Dark Bramble is No. The Twins are the only place that really makes sense for Chert to be on, with the front row tickets to the supernova that’s going to kill them included.

As a minor note to end it, to actually be effective observing, Chert has to be on one of the poles- and placing them at the north pole makes them a handy landmark on the way to the lakebed cave, since that trail starts at the bottom of the dry lakebed they’re camping on. Once you have an idea of where you’re going you can land next to Chert and Drop.

#poisonhemloc's reblog #outer wilds #Riebeck Esker and Spoilers are all. shorter. by a bit. but im gonna get these all up then decide if im putting them on ao3 as meta

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year ago

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GOH: The Monsters

Gates Of Hell

Below are the creatures that appear in GOH with a little description for each. I have received a few asks about them and thought I'd put them all in one place (these will be updates as the story progresses).

[note to self: don't search scary stuff at 1am.]

taglist: @toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady

Warnings: horror, inspired images of monsters, thalassophobia, i genuinely had to sleep with the lights on with all the research i did into these monsters

Introduced in: Part One

Demogorgons

Tall, grey, and thin monsters with elongated limbs. They first appear as 'faceless' until they unfurl their flesh in a flower formation, showcasing many sharp teeth. The demogorgon is fast and strong, relying strongly on hearing to stalk its prey.

Demodogs

Adolescent demogorgons, smaller in size and not unlike the stance of a dog. They carry a virus; any victims they strike (and don't kill) will be infected.

The Infected

Normal people turned monsters from a virus spread by the demodogs. Black veins spread across their body, eventually reaching the brain and turning them feral. The last stage of the virus rips into the flesh of their face, uncurling in four pieces with scattered teeth.

Mind Flayer

An entity made up completely of black particles, its shadow representing a closeness to the appearance of a spider. The dust itself has the power to control the bodies of other monsters, both alive and dead.

Shapeshifters

Creatures that stalk their prey, mimicking familiar voices to lure their victims. Their true form is thin with grey skin covered in dark veins, long black hair cascading down their head. They have hollow eyes and can unhinge their jaw to 'mimic'. In order to shift, they must observe their desired shape head to toe.

Rideo

Built abnormally, the creature is larger in size and most noticeable for its unsettling grin. It has immense strength and will usually focus their sights on one victim until successfully killing them.

The Green-eyed Monster

An unknown creature found in the lab. It resembles a demogorgon but is physically larger and taller, weaponising the claws on its hands. Its most noticeable feature is the vivid green in its eyes, glowing even in the shadows.

Introduced in: Part Two

Dustwalkers

A shadowy figure that stalks the Upside Down. When catching its victim, it can flood their body full of dust until they no longer breathe. They can not be 'killed', but once defeated they will deplete into a pile of ash on the floor.

Banshee

Pale human-like creatures that seemingly hover due to their speed, relying on sound due to their blurred vision. They have a gaping mouth that can blast a debilitating scream, the pitch enough to paralyse their victims in endless pain before death.

Aboleth

Giant leeches restricted to large bodies of water. It drags its victims deep down and curls around it until death. It will most likely digest the corpse after.

to be continued...

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things reader insert #fanfics #fanfiction #monsters #oc monster #original monster #gates of hell #apocalypse au #horror fanfiction

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h3lfaerie · 7 months ago

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So if there's three acts in POA around how many chapters would there be in each act

My friend, I wish I could tell you...

Unfortunately my neurotic brain has zero concept of structure (in the sense that I know my plot, but divvying it up is a whole different story) Writing fanfiction right now is actually helping me learn how to dole out the content in digestible segments however it is very much a work in progress given that my chapters have started RELIGIOUSLY exceeding the 5,000 word mark.

I am actually concerned that it might be a bit too much for some people to read in one go, but because I generally update once a month (or try to) I figure that having a nice thick chapter by the time I'm done is quite nice after having to wait for so long.

So, the sheer fact you think we'll stop at Three Acts alone tells me you have far more faith in me than I do myself. To which I'm very flattered, don't get me wrong, but I'm far more scatterbrained than you may think.

I did say we'll have multiple Acts, however I did put a lil "etc" after counting up to Act III in that one post when I explained the structure I have in mind.

I do think that roughly from the pace I'm going at right now, if I were to stick to three Acts alone, if that works, each one will likely have anywhere between fifteen to twenty chapters.

I work in the sense that I have key moments that I need to happen to drive the story forward, so they will be happening no matter how much the characters like to go off script 🙃 The journey may vary but the destination is the same.

And once we hit a certain point (a damn heartbreaking one if I might add), we will then finish Act I.

But it's basically the same kind of "structure" for the rest of the story. There are certain landmarks along the plot and each Act has a number of them.

For example in Act I (The Hollow):

-> We have introduced Hiccup's internal conflict, which is crucial for his gradual descent into, not necessarily madness, but someone who is... Morally questionable at best.

-> We have introduced The Craze.

-> We have introduced the FMC.

-> We have introduced the political World-building that takes place in the Archipelago.

-> And we have introduced important landmarks in Berk's Village like the Dungeons, Heather's Watchtower, the Yak Fields, etc.

All of these are important for the progression of the story. And if I'm being completely honest, even though this is a Hiccup X Reader fanfiction, the romance is actually more of a subplot. Though trust me, it is there, and it ain't going anywhere 😂 but if I were to take it out completely the plot would still hold on its own as it has certain beats it needs to hit that are irrespective of the romance.

So in short, once we tick off every "box" for each designated thing that needs to happen in the Act, we can then move on to the next one. How I spread it out though is a whole different story, because more often than not characters like to go completely off the rails... 👍

Thank you for your Ask, Anon! ❤️

#httyd #httyd fanfiction #path of alfheim #PoA Asks

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tideswept · 1 year ago

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First post of 2024, let's go!

First off! I'll be picking up my goal of 100 books a year again and will post a tracker next, feel free to join in and/or give recommendations as the year progresses. ❤ I'm a voracious but lazy reader, so I don't venture outside of my usual circle of authors as often as I should, which is actually the point of the tracker!

Secondly, I want to show off the podfic @sweet-cynic did of stubborn in the bones and the delicious Padobi/Masterkin @ossidae-passeridae wrote for silly ol' me. 💕

stubborn in the bones (podfic)

surrender | be moved and shaken

Yessss, yesss, look at the pretty, look at it!

Third, and really what you're interested in--State of Fic Updates and Previews!

ACTIVE WIPS:

[Hartwin] a tender gasp of inevitable ache ch2: 3k in, rough outline written out. Guesstimating something like 6k for this one.

Then Merlin pipes up. “God, I thought you two couldn’t get more obnoxious.” Neither of them starts. Kingsman trained them too well for that. But Eggsy’s fingers curl around the stem of his fork before relaxing. Since there’s no data being fed into his glasses, he assumes this is an informal check-in. He places another forkful of tender, exquisite salmon on his tongue, closing his lips around the tines and dragging the fork out without breaking eye contact with Harry. This might be mainly to yank Merlin’s tail, but he can’t deny that Harry watching him make a slaggy spectacle of himself ignites a forbidden, heady thrill. It’s better than the cock of a well-oiled gun—better even than firing off a snazzy one-liner when taking out bad guys.

[Hartwin] always be something sacred ch3: 1.6k in, some thorny things to work out. Might be a split POV chapter, might also end up being 5 chapters total after all, we'll see!

“Opinion on a blockade?” Harry asks, shrugging off his jumper, heading for the hidden armory beneath the staircase. He’d long ago bought and hollowed out the neighboring houses that bracketed his own for security and usage—pressing his palm against the wooden panel reveals a hidden entrance. It’s amazing that Eggsy, despite all his rightful suspicions and cleverness, has never figured this secret out. He would have loved it. There’s no need for Harry to close his eyes and imagine that boy’s delight, he knows the exact grin that Eggsy would flash, his choked, skeptical laughter, his glee. How carefully Harry would have to watch his hands to ensure that Eggsy didn’t pocket anything. Pain digs sharp claws behind his breastbone. He ignores it. Regret can come later, after Eggsy isn’t at the mercy of an unknown enemy.

[Obikin] Untitled -- Alpha!PadObi/Beta!Masterkin: smutty irredeemable oneshot, ahoy!

Obi-Wan groans again. He stumbles onto his sleeping bag and lies there, gritting his teeth. Through their bond, Anakin experiences an echo of the pure need threatening to drag the nineteen-year-old into a feral state. Or that will kill him. Anakin swears in Huttese. If he were better at mind suggestions or at meditation, if he could karking heal, he could help. If he were an alpha, he could superimpose his will and force Obi-Wan to calm down. And if he were an omega… Well. Anakin didn’t successfully see one Padawan through an intergalactic war only to lose his second Padawan to something as ridiculous as this.

[Obikin] Untitled2: another irredeemable smutty oneshot, yay!

“Are you sure that you’re alright, Anakin?” Obi-wan asks for the third time, exasperated to the point where no matter what Anakin claims, he’s going to stop their walk and examine Anakin from head to toe. But instead of lying again, Anakin, who has been making the strangest noises as they pushed through the wildly lush jungle that covers the planet, groans piteously and stops so suddenly that Obi-Wan almost runs into him. “Anakin?” “I’m—kark, don’t make me say it.” Since Anakin stubbornly refuses to face him, Obi-Wan circles around to find Anakin flushed and sweaty, his lips torn from biting down.

[Obikin] Untitled3: probably still irredeemable but not actually smutty! for @sweet-cynic, a bit of a... TMA-SW fusion AU? (featuring Priest-Wan because we could always use more of that.)

The day Obi-Wan Kenobi stumbles over the bedraggled figure curled up tight at a corner of the stairs leading up to the church is already one of exhaustion and fury drowned in alcohol. He is in no charitable mood, but discovering a small child wedged tight against the stonework in the middle of the night, with the chill of an early winter creeping in, horrifies him into action. Are they dead? Obi-Wan wonders, leaning down carefully. Wrapped up in misery and in shapeless, grimy garments, the child is nothing but a genderless mop of blond hair and too-pink ears peeking out from the collar of the jacket they’re wearing, some cast off business jacket for an adult repurposed for warmth against the bitterness of October. He clears his throat. “He—” Blue eyes snap open. Too blue, too bright, there’s not enough light that I should be able to see the color. But Obi-Wan doesn’t pay that thought as much attention as it deserves. “Hello there. That doesn’t seem terribly comfortable." The poor creature—Obi-Wan still cannot pinpoint a gender, the face dark with dirt—shifts away from him, inching to regain space as if they don’t trust him despite the markers of his office, the collar, the coat, the cross weighing heavy on his chest.

NEXT UP:

airline Obikin shenanigans for @virahaus

even more shenanigans set in bones of a miracle for @gretchenzellerbarnes

A coda for all things unsaid

I'm hoping Untitled2 will be finished today, but we'll see. :) After some of these go up I will finally get back to working on fear the crown and the devil is a gentleman. They're long overdue for updates. (Also have my eye on you should see what we do in my head--definitely want to finish that this month.)

And that concludes the State of Fic! ❤ If I have forgotten anyone or any thing or you have a question about a fic not mentioned, please give me a poke.

#berryfic #berrytalk.txt

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shai-manahan · 2 years ago

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Hollowed Minds Progress Update 8/13/23

Hi! I haven't been here for a while, I know, and I'm sorry for that! I've been going through a lot of changes lately -- new job and all that -- and have only finished moving today to another city :'))) I'd like to take a week for myself to set a proper pace and figure out a schedule that would work for my writing, so I'll probably post another progress update next week. For now, some progress below:

30k+ words usable content for the next update (usable meaning I had to cut a lot from what I wrote previously :(( and I might have to cut more from that depending on how it'll go.

Previous chapter edits - this includes making the passages more concise, the tension stronger, a lot more action-focused, and much easier to read and understand with strengthened dialogues.

There's a few changes I'm implementing with regards to the stats as well. It mostly goes like this as presented in the picture below 👀

Default means your Ripper starts that way from the beginning of the story, though you can still change this with your choices.

Fixed means you can immediately set that specific trait for Ripper and it stays that way for the rest of Book 1.

Fixed and variable just means you can set the initial trait but there'll still be a stat-style movement depending on your future choices.

Some of the terms I used for these opposed pairs are merely placeholders because I literally can't think of other words for some reason, but this system does open opportunities for comparisons and comments from other characters, so I'm eager to go through with that plan.

I know it's been several months since the last update, but rest assured that I'm doing my best!

Anyway, that's all for today, and see you next week 🥺if you have any suggestions/concerns about the current content HM has, my ask box is always open :'))))

#hollowed minds series #hollowed minds #interactive fiction #progress update #hollowed minds progress update #wip #writing #if wip #interactive novel #hollowed minds book one

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sophieinwonderland · 8 months ago

Note

Hi sophie, my oldest headmate (still young but we've been making really quick progress) has been drifting in and out of presence today and seemed really quite sad, i felt some of the emotions bleed through. Now i can't reach her even though i can locate her in our wonderland, and I'm getting quite worried, you know, what if she's experiencing symptoms that i usually bear? I'm not sure what to do here

I'm not sure exactly what your situation is or how long your headmate has been around. If it hasn't been very long though, this could just be... growing pains, of a sort.

I don't know how common it for this to happen, but speaking from my own experiences, I was pretty stable and always available for my existence as an imaginary friend. It worked well, existing in that state. Then I became self-aware, and I had moments where, after feeling intense emotions, I would be unavailable for a bit.

Once, my host even tried to to force me to front so he could know what I was feeling, and when he did, I was fronting but felt nothing. It was like I was hollow and completely devoid of emotions.

It was terrifying.

But every experience is an opportunity to learn. And this made me think about what might actually have been going on in our head.

And my theory that I settled on to explain this is that I wasn't developed enough to deal with those sort of emotions yet. So my mind, the program that is me in the hardware of our brain, processed my inability to handle those emotions by making me unreachable.

I think my thoughts needed to be rewired to be able to process those new feelings I've never felt before. Like when your computer needs to restart to update.

This obviously doesn't explain all headmates becoming unreachable all the time. But I think it could be relevant here since you mention your headmates are pretty young. (Depending on what "young" means here.)

Especially if this is the first time she's ever felt deep sadness like this.

If I'm right, this is basically a mental growth spurt and she'll be back and more developed before you know it. Try to keep talking to her as you go even if she doesn't respond, because that will keep her mind working.

Either way, when you can reach her again, it's going to be important to find out why she was feeling sad and try to help her through it.

As far as experiencing symptoms, maybe. You do share a brain, and any mental illnesses that affect you will probably affect her too. But only you and her can really decide if that's what's happening.

For now, just keep calm and carry on.

When she's back, you can work things out together. Ask her why she's feeling how she is, and what you can do to help her feel better.

Best of luck to you both. 💖

#pluralgang #plural #plurality #plural things #multiplicity #systempunk #syspunk #pro endogenic #pro endo #system #systems #endogenic #sysblr #system things #system stuff #actually plural #actually a system

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goblinbugthing · 1 year ago

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Bugthing’s brand-new Pinned Intro Post!!!!!!

Hi! I’m Bug, I’m a mentally ill emo artist and fic author. This is where I put my nonsense for you internet ppl to look at.

I’m transmasc, currently identifying as xenogender, and I use he/xey/it/they pronouns. Mutuals, and only mutuals, can use my other neos, blood/bleed and gore/gory. I’m lunian/mspec lesbian, fictoromantic, and fictosexual. Please respect that!!

Currently, I’m into Hollow Knight, the Kirby series, A Hat in Time, Bug Fables, Cult of the Lamb, Rain World, and Fate/Zero. Do be warned, though, I can fall out of these fandoms at any time — my interests are almost always fluctuating.

This blog is safe for minorities! (e.g. disabled ppl, LGBTQ+ ppl, BIPOC, Palestinians, etc.)

I am a minor. Don’t be weird.

Other stuff under the cut!

(divider gif via @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

My asks are open! Feel free to ask me stuff about my hyperfixations, or whatever you wanna know about me, as long as it’s not too personal.

Commissions are closed. You can still support me by donating/tipping! Ko-Fi linked below!

My other socials:

My YouTube channel (I don’t upload much)

My Wattpad I can’t link for some reason. My @ is goblinbugthing on there (I hardly ever touch this one)

My AO3 (All my fics live here now)

My $$app (Consider supporting me and my reckless spending addiction)

My Ko-Fi (Support me with tips!)

My other blogs:

@princes-creations-askblog — An askblog specifically for my OCs.

@ask-emporianroyals-au — My AHiT AU askblog.

@kirby-souljourney-au — My Kirby AU blog.

@hollowknightinsanity — My HK sideblog.

@xx-scene4ngel-xx — My RP blog, where I act as my fursona.

Current works:

Kirby: Soul Journey — My Kirby AU fanfiction, taking place after Kirby and the Forgotten Land. (Read on Tumblr / Read on Wattpad / Read on AO3) (To be rewritten)

Kirby: Soul Journey oneshots collection — A set of oneshots created for K:SJ. (Read on Tumblr / Read on Wattpad / Read on AO3) (To be rewritten)

Hollow Knight: Empty Promises — A set of fics created for my base Hollow Knight AU, Empty Promises. (Read on AO3 / Wattpad link to be added)

My tag key:

#buggie’s rambles — Text posts

#buggie’s randoms — Nonsense stuff! In other words, my homemade memes

#buggie’s doodles — Doodles and sketches

#buggie’s characters — OC stuff

#buggie’s creations — Proper artwork

#buggie’s creations (in the making) — Work-in-progress artworks

#buggie’s building paradise — All my Minecraft build stuff :3 (here’s a list of all the mods i use if you want em)

#buggie’s stories — My original writing

#buggie’s answers — My answered asks

#buggie’s polls — Self-explanatory. My polls

#buggie’s queue — The Very Rare Queued Posts (the only one unaffected by the name change)

#buggie’s stims — Stuff I stim to

#buggie’s sluttery — A tag I made specifically for my ace friends to block so they don’t get suggestive content on their dash. Also known as my hornyposting. Please block this tag if you don’t wanna see suggestive stuff!

#buggie irl — IRL pics of me, mostly just my gender euphoria

#saved 4 serotonin production — My comfort tag

#quicksave — Stuff I want to look at later

#important — Self-explanatory. Important stuff

#semi-important — I’m honestly not sure, just scroll through the tag if you want an idea, because I can’t describe it myself

#besties doodles — Art from my mutuals

#besties rambles — Ramblings from my mutuals

#other’s art (it’s awesome) — Other people’s awesome art

#other’s rambles (sick af) — Other people’s sick af rambles (I tend to forget to use this one…)

#bbg tag — Posts both by me and by other people about my F/Os

#images that describe my gender — My gender envy tag. Don’t question the stuff that’s in there.

I tag triggers with #cw (trigger).

I tag OCs with #oc: (oc).

If I make any new tags (or remember any ones I forgot), this section will be updated!

Also, please keep in mind that tumblr is a bit fucky and sometimes doesn’t show posts under tags for some reason! Some posts might have my old tags on them.

DNI list:

If any of these fit you, do not interact with my blog.

Pro//shippers

NSFW blogs (I scroll through every blog that follows me. I don’t wanna see that.)

TERFs

Transphobes, homophobes, racists, ableists, sexists, misogynists, antisemites, etc.

H//arry P//otter enjoyers (I fucking hate J.K. Row//ling and all her works.)

D//anganronpa-specific blogs (Very sorry — this is just a big trigger for me.)

People who support Israel’s genocide of Palestinians (Stay FAR away from me.)

People who ship The Knight/Ghost and the Grimmchild (I mean, you do you, but I don’t wanna. See that. Feels weird.)

A//I “art” supporters (this includes A//I generated anything. Text, music, images, ANYTHING. Go away.)

H//azbin fans (😐)

And I believe that’s it! Enjoy your time here :)

#text #intro post #pinned post #buggie’s rambles #FINALLY. FUCKING FINALLY I REMAKE MY OLD ASS PINNED. FUCK #i spent like an hour making this hhhhgggggggghghghggghhgghghghhgghg

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hollowedkingdoms · 6 months ago

Note

If I were to code some of your Hollowed Kingdoms things into Foundry VTT for use in a personal game, would you be all right with me putting it on their Modules Browser?

I do not mind Hollowed Kingdoms materials being coded in for peoples personal games and if I think I remember how foundry works that's the way you put homebrew in your games. So you may do so.

However, I will encourage you to join our Discord Server because we are currently making progress through updating and rebalancing the Classes and Subclasses we have already made. So if you want up to date announcements of those changes, you will first hear it there.

Link to Discord:

#hollow knight #hollowed kingdoms #dungeons and dragons #dnd #dnd 5e homebrew #foundryvtt #discord #hollowed kingdoms project #dnd 5e

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wylohwist · 2 months ago

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Welcome to my corner of the internet

My name's Wyloh (Said 'Willow') and I'm the official creator of UnderWatcher

)+=--------{About Me}--------=+(

The name's Wyloh, with the 'Y' said like an 'I' (So "Willow" with extra steps basically).

I've been in the Undertale Fandom since around 2020, but only as of the date this post was made (January 1st 2025) have I actually been a creator within said Fandom.

In my spare time I like to play video games like Minecraft, Roblox (Creatures of Sonaria & Kaiju Universe being the main ones), Undertale (obviously), Hollow Knight, Cult of the Lamb, Portal 1 & 2, and a bunch of others

I also like to read both books/fanfic & comics, listen to all sorts of music (particularly rock), and occasionally do some extreme sports like diving, sky diving, and white water rafting as well. I've also got an interest in Psychology and how the human mind / human behaviour works, so if you've got any fun facts about that, feel free to share 'em with me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm the kinda guy that doesn't give 2 shits about being "normal" and take being called a freak or weird or strange as a compliment

Honestly, you'd insult me more if you did call me normal, like "Damn, am I not doin enough?" X)

Anywho, if there's anything else you wanna know about me, I guess go ahead and check my Bio, as that's where the rest of the relevant info about me is gonna be

)+=---------{About this Blog}---------=+(

Here is where I will be posting any and all updates about my AU as well as any fanart I receive, but I'll also be posting some general life stuff here as well if it becomes relevant

)+=-----{ASK UNDERWATCHER}-----=+(

If you've got any questions directly for the characters, about the characters, or about the world of UnderWatcher, head on over to my side blog @ask-underwatcher and ask 'em there

If you accidentally ask a question about UnderWatcher here then don't worry, I'll answer it in my side blog and tag you to make sure you get it

Please note that characters will only be available for questions once they've been introduced into the canon story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Relevant Tags

Here are each of the important tags I use in my posts to help y'all properly navigate everything

#underwatcher - Anything & Everything UnderWatcher related #pinned post - Added to any important posts, so keep an eye out for posts with this tag #progress update - To keep y'all up to date with how my writing progress is going #spoilers - For when I'm feelin generous and wanna give you guys a sneak peak at what's to come :3 #life update - For relevant updates on my life

)+=---------{Socials}---------=+(

I don't promise to be consistent across all my platforms, nor do I promise to even post anything on said platforms but if you're interested in where else to find me for whatever purpose, here's the links:

Active Socials (Socials I actually post on)

AO3

Tumblr (You are here)

Other Tumblr (My Ask UnderWatcher Side Blog I use FOR FUN) Inactive Socials (Only exist for credit and content consuming purposes)

YouTube

Deviant Art

Instagram

Twitter (No I'm not gonna call it "X" (Ew.) cause Fuck Musk)

TikTok

If you don't see a social media platform here, it means I don't have it

)+=---------{Community}---------=+(

If you're interested in what I've created here and want more, feel free to join the Discord, where you can talk to others about the AU, theories, share fanart, fanfics, and talk with me directly

(Please note that a discord has not been made YET and will be worked on in the future if the need for one arises (though I'll probably end up creating one anyway))

)+=---{The Story of UnderWatcher}---=+(

AO3 Series Folder

Introduction (The Beginning)

UnderWatcher Part I - The Underground I

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#wylohwist #pinned posts #the beginning #underwatcher #undertale #undertale au #undertale fanfiction #undertale fandom #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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aheckinmess · 6 months ago

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In response to the results from my "What Am I Working On?" poll, I've decided that for those of you who want to see what's up ahead, I would be delighted to share it with you!

For those of you who do not want to be informed about upcoming writing and fanfictions, whether it's because you don't want to be disappointed if it's not posted or because you would rather be surprised when it comes out, I will put a divider here so you DO NOT have to read it if you don't want to. The only news I am sharing below this line is new and upcoming writing information. Read at your own discretion.

I wanted to take all of your responses into account, and this is how I am able to do so!

TLDR: You want writing news? It's down below. You don't want writing news? Don't read.

Writing News & Updates

Welcome all of you who want to be kept in the loop with updates and other fun ideas headed your way! Bear in mind, the ideas that I share with you will take some time to write, but I figured you all might be interested in seeing what's happening in addition to the regularly updated stories I have going on right now.

This is a compiled list of both current and future works that I'm working on.

CURRENT WORKS IN PROGRESS

My Hero Academia Imagines/One-Shot Compilation:

This work gets updated regularly every Saturday/Sunday right now. Should I ever need to skip a week, I will post an update about it. In addition to this, I'm willing to consider different requests should anyone have them, so feel free to drop a line in the comments (or in a message if you're more shy, like myself) and I'll let you know if I can work it in as a prompt.

A Reader Rendezvous:

The hope is to keep this updated at least once a month. There are a lot of prompts I have as works in progress for this compilation, but work has been busy so I haven't had a lot of time to focus on my x Reader imagines/prompts. Trust me, I'm as upset by this as you are. I have so many good prompts that are basically finished and just need editing! However, I don't work on these as consistently as I do the prompts for my MHA Compilation with Ichijiku (since it's updated every week), so please be patient with me. Same as before, though, requests are allowed.

Cursed, Not Cute:

This work is being updated spontaneously when the muse speaks to me. I went from writing 4 chapters back-to-back in May, and then not posting chapter 5 until Aug. 18 of this week. (although chapter 6 is in the works now). However, I know that it's a fan favorite, so rest assured that it's not forgotten. Since this fic doesn't have as clear of a direction for me right now, there may be long stretches between chapters, but I will try to keep it consistent.

Season of Serendipity:

This work is being updated spontaneously when the muse speaks to me. Similarly to CNC, this fic doesn't have as clear of a vision right now. Since I'm more hyper-focused on My Hero Academia at the moment, Jujutsu Kaisen kinda gets the short end of the stick right now, but I promise these stories are not just being dropped in favor of MHA fics. They all get just as much love!

Bashful Beginnings with Bengal:

This work is being updated spontaneously when I have time to get chapters written. I got into Batman: The Dark Knight in high school and was crazy about it for a while! Then, it died out and my friends rekindled my love for it by introducing me to Wayne Family Adventures on Webtoon. So, I've been writing about my OC, Bengal, for a few years now, but I haven't had time to edit her story in order to make it as polished as I'd like in order to post it. However, more chapters will be added. I just don't have a clear timeline for it. I'm going to say I'm shooting to get another chapter out before the end of September!

Apricity:

This story is completed. This was meant to be a 3-part one-shot series! Now, that's not to say that I won't eventually add onto it, but for the time being, it is complete and can be read as it is.

Hollow Harmony:

This story is completed. This was meant to be a 3-part one-shot series! Now, that's not to say that I won't eventually add onto it, but for the time being, it is complete and can be read as it is.

FUTURE PLANS & PROJECTS

By the Books:

Calling all Aizawa lovers! This is a fanfiction that I've been working on since I first got into My Hero Academia about two and a half years ago. Shouta Aizawa has always been the holder of my heart since I got into the show, and that will never change (although Enji Todoroki also holds my heart in his hands)! I don't want to give too much away, but just know this is an OC x Aizawa fic that is somewhere around 721 pages of nothing but slow burn, angst, and tasty delicious ✨C H A R A C T E R D E V E L O P M E N T ✨. My hope is to have enough of the fic edited by the beginning of 2025 so I can start posting at the beginning of the new year.

Eye of the Beholder:

Once again, Aizawa lovers, this is for you! Especially if you love Dadzawa! Instead of having an Aizawa x OC fanfiction for this, this is a good old-fashioned Dad!Aizawa-Finds-Child!OC-and-Adopts-Her fanfiction. The idea for this fanfiction was actually born from By the Books, when I was wondering to myself how my character might act if she was hit by a de-aging quirk. And then Eye of the Beholder was born! This story was only just recently thought up in the past year or so, so there's only about 200ish pages for this one.

Ice Ice Baby:

While I know Enji Todoroki isn't a fan favorite in the fandom, that certainly hasn't stopped me from loving him (I mean, more for me, am I right?)! The idea for this story was born because I wondered how Enji might react having someone as emotional as me as a child. From observing the family from the show and manga, it appears most of the Todoroki children are all emotionally distant/have tucked away their feelings. Yes, part of it is because of the emotional abuse, but as someone who grew up in a similar household and still ended up a squishy, emotional bean, I decided LET'S EXPERIMENT! So, we get to see the havoc my little soft OC bean reaps in the hearts of the Todoroki family as she slowly pulls them back together. You can hate it if you want to, but I think it's absolutely adorable (and also about 250ish pages) and I'm rather excited for it. Consider this your warning about it if you don't want to read it.

Might:

We all love some Papa Toshinori. I just think it's absolutely cute and based on the AU fanart and fics I've seen of him taking care of Shigaraki, I decided I'd try my hand at writing some of it. This fanfiction is going to be Toshinori's goddaughter and her life of trying to be a hero after her parents die and Toshinori is left to care for her. It's got a little canon divergence, but a lot of the main canon events will be taking place for some tasty delicious ✨C H A R A C T E R D E V E L O P M E N T ✨ with a lot of fluff and angst sprinkled in.

Permafrost:

Once again, I have an obsession with Enji Todoroki. Simply put, with enough love and affection, I think his redemption arc and character development could have been kick-started. So, this fanfiction idea was created before Ice Ice Baby with the same idea of "How would Enji Todoroki's character arc have changed if he had someone to actively show him love and affection up front before his children were born?" (Note: I am not saying that Rei did not love Enji. I am, however, saying that I read her character as being much more passive in her affection, as well as marrying him out of obligation instead of someone who might choose to marry him for different reasons.) So basically, think of this as my Todoroki family fix-it fic!

Other Ideas:

I have at least 300+ prompt ideas for MHA that all have little summaries written for them so I don't forget what my ideas were, but they haven't been written yet.

For JJK, I don't have much in the way of a full-fledged fanfiction planned out. (That's a lie: I have a fanfiction plotted out, but it's in collaboration with some friends, and thus I would have to speak with them before deciding to post anything.) However, I do have ideas for a compilation of one-shots, much like I have with MHA.

Also in the way of JJK, I have a Bartender Sukuna AU that I've started writing. It was inspired by someone on Instagram named pikkufrog, but it has my own spin on what it might be like. Maybe once I've gotten part 2 finished, I'll post it as a little two-part one-shot story. Or maybe it'll end up a full series, who can say?

I have two 30-day OTP challenges that I've been working on that I think would be fun to post. One is for Aizawa and one is for Enji. They both have very different plotlines but are both full of cuteness and angst. (Perhaps a dash of spice here and there.)

I've considered an Arranged Marriage AU for Sukuna in JJK as well, but we'll see if the muse sings to me on that one.

Finally, my big, ambitious project is to make a full-fledged fanfiction for every major character in MHA (and yes, I have compiled a list - we're at 38 characters thus far). Yes, it's a big undertaking and no, it won't happen overnight. However, since I enjoy the fandom and I like creating fanfiction within the world, I figure as long as I'm having fun with it...might as well!

CONCLUSION

In closing, I have a lot of ideas swimming around my brain constantly. Not all of them will ever see the light, but for the majority of these that I've shared with you, I want to give them a chance at life so I can share them with all of you! I hope this update gives you a look at what's happening, as well as some anticipation for what is to come.

TLDR: I have a lot of ideas for MHA and JJK. Most of them revolve around Aizawa and Enji, with a dash of Toshinori. Yuji, Sukuna, and Gojo are the ones I typically write for in JJK but those ideas aren't as fleshed out since I'm obsessed with MHA.

HAPPY READING!

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