#i believe he will have faith that things can work out far better for them

[honeycreammilkshake]

What do you think yuuji missing his two fingers mean? Do you think he still communicates with sukuna?

hi, anon!

based on the symbolism of these two fingers (the little finger for promises and the ring finger for eternal love and loyalty) i feel like yuuji looking down at them and choosing not to replace one is like his way of keeping things open for sukuna in the future.

in japan, the little finger is often associated with creativity, romance, and expressing your true feelings. similarly, the ring finger on the left hand is referred to in japan as the "wedding finger" or "marriage finger" as it's a custom that wearing a ring on that finger brings good luck and prosperity during marriage. this belief comes from a theory in chinese traditional medicine that certain parts of the body were connected by "meridians" or pathways that kept energy flowing through the body.

gege loves subtle nods to buddhism and philosophical concepts, but i'm not sure how deep the symbolism for this scene is supposed to run. regardless, i think it's very telling that it's those two fingers specifically that gege chose for yuuji to lose.

yuuji's little finger was ripped off by sukuna (in order to possess megumi) while yuuji's other finger was willingly given up to rika in order to help destroy sukuna. this is extremely fitting because, not only did yuuji fail to keep his promise to protect megumi, but he also committed himself (his entire life) to sukuna. in the beginning, his commitment was to bring about sukuna's true and final death, but now his commitment seems to be to keep the door open for sukuna. and just like sukuna stole away yuuji's promise (and refused to give it back, leaving yuuji to have to be the one to literally tear it back from sukuna), yuuji is also refusing to let go of his own promise that he is willing to accept sukuna and "try again" with him.

i think yuuji can sense sukuna's happiness or at least sukuna's calm and peaceful state in the afterlife. he has faith that sukuna will choose a better path to walk down in the next life. he set sukuna north but he's still waiting with open arms in case sukuna ever chooses to come back to him. and he's accepting of that. he's looking down at his fingers almost fondly, because the worst seems to be over and he has faith in a more hopeful future for both sukuna and himself.

seeing as how there's so much symbolism around fingers in this series, it's very telling that yuuji is okay, even satisfied, with the fact that his fingers are missing. sukuna really did take yuuji's future for his own, because not only did he mark yuuji's body irreversibly, but yuuji is also missing the finger that is commonly used for the ring in marriages. that implies that his future still belongs to sukuna, and vice versa since sukuna's remaining finger was returned to the shed where it was originally found in yuuji's school. so if sukuna ever chooses to reincarnate, he has a clear path he can follow back to yuuji if he wants to. and since yuuji was the one to offer sukuna a better future, he also left an eternal mark on the former king of curses.

it's like he's saying he's still connected to sukuna, that even though their messy, forced marriage and even messier, crazier divorce is over, yuuji is still waiting for sukuna. he's committed himself to sukuna and has hope that they will meet again. just like an ex who refuses to take off the ring from their last marriage, he's still saying he's more than willing to get back together with sukuna if it ever could happen again. he was made for sukuna, he had no choice over that. but the fact that he's still willing to choose sukuna, to want to still be fated to him....

it's so beautifully poetic. i really can't ever get over these two.

[moonbeamwritings]

“Nanamiiiinn,” Gojo croons, dragging out the end of that stupid nickname with a knowing smirk. Nanami heaves a sigh at the sound. It's tolerable enough coming from Itadori, sure, but it's insufferable when Nanami knows Gojo is using it to goad him on.

“I didn’t take you for that kind of guy,” Gojo continues when Nanami doesn't answer. He bends at the waist to speak into Nanami’s ear, a hand curling around the back of his chair to trap him in the seat. “Comin’ into work with lipstick smeared all over your face.”

Nanami can't help but roll his eyes. "Ha ha. I'm not whipping out my phone just so you'll say 'HA! Made you look!'" Gojo's attempted the same juvenile prank one too many times for Nanami to have any sort of faith in this new line of teasing.

"Oh?" Gojo's stepped around the table to drop into the seat across from him, a smirk evident on his features. "Don't believe me, huh?"

Before Nanami can stop him, Gojo is pulling out his phone and taking a picture with an audible click. Smugly, he turns the screen so Nanami can see for himself.

The photo reveals a shiny pink smudge across the high point of his cheek and dotted on the corner of his lips. Nanami's nose wasn't spared in the onslaught either it seems, one mark crossing the bridge while the other is perfectly placed on the tip.

"It's a good look for you!" Gojo assures him, smiling down at the photo. "It's not every day I get to see you look so..." He thinks for a moment. "Soft."

Nanami rolls his eyes, again, and rubs the pad of his thumb at the corner of his mouth. "You're insufferable."

Gojo's mouth is agape. "I won't take credit for such a masterpiece, Nanamin. You know me better than that!" The comment seems to spark something in the other sorcerer's mind, and Nanami does not like the look that crosses his face. Not one bit. "But I have my suspicions as to who our little lipstick owner may be."

When Gojo starts marking the possible suspects by counting on his fingers, Nanami decides to quit while he's ahead and see himself out, his quiet time thoroughly ruined. He moves to stand, but Kugisaki and Itadori enter the room before he can get too far.

The teens greet the pair, and Nanami has one foot out the door when Kugisaki's eyes narrow in on him. He feels stuck beneath it, like he's suddenly trapped in quicksand.

She gestures to his nose. "You've got something there." A pause. "And there."

"I'm aware, thank you."

"Is it-" Itadori leans closer to inspect the situation, too. This is nightmarish, Nanami thinks, embarrassed at being so scrutinized. "Is it lipstick?"

Gojo's response is snide. Immediate. "It is."

Nanami shoots him a glare over Kugisaki's shoulder. Oh, if looks could kill.

"I've seen this shade before." Kugisaki says, fixing Itadori with a puzzled expression. "Do you think it's-"

The whole interaction is innocent, Nanami knows. The teens aren't trying to rake him over the coals. They're not intending to prolong his suffering. But with every second of debate, Gojo's grin only grows, the answer to the mystery coming closer and closer to his grasp.

Kugisaki's face alights with excitement when she finally puts a face and name to her thought. "Oh, I know!"

Oh no.

Your name falls from Kugisaki's lips as if in slow motion. Every letter, every agonizing second drawn out in near comedic fashion.

The look on Nanami's face must give him away because Gojo is up out of his chair in record time, an accusatory finger pointing in his direction. "I knew it! I knew you two were a thing!"

Nanami ignores the display entirely, nodding politely at the students. "Have a nice afternoon, you two."

He retreats down the hallway to the echoing sounds of Gojo's elation, making his way towards the nearest bathroom to rid himself of the pink marks. Nanami had noticed your lipstick this morning, had even complimented it, and he was clearly so wrapped up in your kisses that he hadn't thought to check for any evidence of them as he made his way out the door.

You're partially to blame, Nanami decides as his phone starts to vibrate with messages from you – no doubt having already seen the picture Gojo took. You could've, should've, warned him before he left the apartment looking like this.

He reluctantly opens his phone to half a dozen texts from you, ranging from telling him how funny it all was to how cute he looked with little kiss marks all over his face.

This is all your fault.

The three dots pop up, and then: You weren't complaining this morning!

He wasn't, that much he can't deny. Nanami would've stood there all morning accepting kisses if you'd let him.

My reputation is ruined.

It adds to your charm!

Nanami starts to remove the lipstick as best he can, but he knows it won't make much difference. Gojo will still tease him for it, and you'll still pepper his face with kisses every time you see him — lipstick or not.

[saphronethaleph]

Applied Maya

“Your overconfidence is your weakness,” Luke said, calmly.

“Your faith in your friends is yours,” the Emperor replied.

Vader shook his head. “It is pointless to resist, my son.”

“It is pointless to control the galaxy,” Luke retorted. “I’ve learned things about the Force that mean I understand that now."

He waved his hand, and Vader tensed, but it turned out to be for emphasis instead of telekinesis. “The Force is everywhere. In everything. There’s… a level of reality which is far beyond what we care about. It’s around us, everywhere. Even in us.”

“What are you talking about?” the Emperor asked, thrown off his argument about how everything was futile.

“The Force,” Luke explained. “And… us. And everything, because the Force is everything. And we’re the Force. We’re… luminous beings, and our bodies are only crude matter that outlines them and gives our spirits somewhere to be.”

“What are you on about?” the Emperor demanded. “Vader! What is he on about? Is this some kind of Jedi nonsense?”

“It is possible,” Vader mused. “But I do not recall hearing it before.”

“I can explain more, if you’d like,” Luke said, earnestly. “The way that it works is that there’s more than one layer of existence, and this is a layer of reality but compared to the Force it’s just an illusion. Which means that – yes, you should do everything you can to make things better in this world, but – no, this world isn’t all there is, and you aren’t your body. Your body is just an approximation.”

He looked at his hand. “I lost this on Cloud City and… it didn’t make me any less of me. I’m still me, because I’m not my body, I’m the one who lives inside it. And the Force is like proof of that.”

That drew a blank look from the Emperor, and what would probably have been a blank look from Vader.

“Elaborate,” Vader requested.

“Well, we all know that the laws of physics exist, right?” Luke asked. “They define exactly how things work. How things fall, or they don’t. How orbits work. And yet, I can stretch out my hand and pull something into it. Which means the laws of physics aren’t laws, they’re just very persistent illusions.”

“I believe the interaction is mediated by midichlorians,” Vader said. “They are like mitochondria for the Force.”

“So?” Luke replied. “That simply means that part of how we are outside physical reality can be measured. I’ve heard the explanations, I’ve seen it – all that the explanation really does is put it into words, and give it a framework.”

He made another expansive gesture.

“This is trite nonsense,” Palpatine said. “Your friends on the Sanctuary Moon will not survive.”

“And if that happened, I would be sad,” Luke said. “Of course I would. But I came here willing to die, because death is not all that there is.”

Palpatine glowered at Vader.

“This one is broken,” he said. “Do you have another possible new apprentice for me?”

“The supply is a bit low, my Master,” Vader said.

“And I know about your rebel fleet,” the Emperor went on. “They will be ambushed by my fleet, just as an entire legion of my best troops is waiting for your friends.”

“That’s a shame,” Luke said. “But it’s not the same as something being unrecoverably bad.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...what?” he said. “You make no sense.”

“You can think of it like a shadow,” Luke said. “Or a hologram. It looks real, but it’s not the most real thing. It’s illusion, just a very persistent illusion which is why so many are taken in by it.”

“This doesn’t sound very empirically sourced,” Vader muttered. “Did you come up with all this yourself? If not, who taught you?”

“Yoda,” Luke replied, and both the Emperor and Vader flinched slightly.

“Yoda’s alive?” Vader asked, sounding horrified and fascinated.

“Not since… about three days ago, I think?” Luke answered. “I could be off by a day or two on that, I spent a lot of it in hyperspace.”

The Emperor tried very hard to stifle a sigh of relief, and didn’t quite manage it.

“You know Yoda?” Vader said. “You met Yoda?”

“Yes,” Luke agreed. “I was there with him at the end. Obi-Wan told me where he was living.”

“What?” Vader asked, now sounding baffled. “...how?”

It was his turn to wave his hand to make a gesture. “Because I remember Cloud City, and you were reasonably talented, but you seemed self taught. You did not fight like you’d had two and a half years of Ataru lectures from the death gremlin… there weren’t nearly enough backflips for it.”

“...oh, I see,” Luke said. “No, Obi-Wan told me on Hoth.”

“On… Hoth,” Vader repeated, slowly. “He’d been dead for several years at that point. Hadn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke confirmed, readily. “He’s a ghost. He’s still around.”

The younger Skywalker shrugged. “Kind of proves what I was saying, right? Death isn’t the end of existence. A person lives on after the death of their body. They become one with the Force, and the Force is one with them, but they still exist.”

Vader was silent for a long time.

“...huh,” he said, eventually.

“Anyway, as I was saying – Father – Your Highness,” Luke went on. “I don’t fear death because death is the loss of the crude flesh, which is just a cloak for our true selves, who are luminous beings of light. To ask others to accept suffering of the flesh is unfair, because they feel it as real, but I understand it for the illusion that it is and so I’m willing to suffer and die for my beliefs – in a very real sense, it doesn’t mean as much to me as it would to anyone else. Because I know the truth.”

“This is all the ramblings of a senile madman, translated through the mouth of a naive boy,” the Emperor said. “What kind of proof could you possibly have?”

“...what, apart from the fact that I communicated with my dead mentor, and he gave me information that I did not know before?” Luke asked, curious. “That was sufficient for me to accept it when Yoda told me, but there’s also the extent to which understanding the illusive nature of reality amplifies my understanding of what the Force truly is.”

“I have to admit, it would explain why Obi-Wan vanished,” Vader mused, sounding like he was talking to himself more than the others.

“You don’t know about the Force,” the Emperor said, snidely. “Certainly your understanding is not as deep as mine!”

Luke examined him.

“You actually believe that,” he said. “But you think what I’m saying is nonsense?”

“If you understood the Force better, you would not be my prisoner!” the Emperor retorted.

“I’m not,” Luke said. “That’s an illusion as well.”

“You cannot just declare anything you don’t like to be an illusion!” Palpatine raged.

“I can if it is,” Luke replied, still calmly, and reached out his hand. His lightsaber slapped into it, then he let go and it floated back across the room to where Palpatine had put it.

He shrugged. “I’m here because I want to save my father. I surrendered because I thought that would be the best way to do it. I’m standing here on a battle station I fully expect to be blown up, because I am committed to saving my father. From you. That’s why I’m here, and it has nothing to do with you having any power over me. You don’t.”

The Emperor attempted to prove Luke wrong by electrocuting him, which lasted about ten seconds until Vader threw him out the window.

The air, on the other artificial hand, stayed put.

“You might be right, son,” Vader said, sounding scientifically fascinated as the room didn’t depressurise. “Accepting this really is helping me understand and use the Force.”

“I’m glad to have helped,” Luke replied, reminding himself that electrical burns were also illusions no matter how persistent they were. “What do we do now?”

“Leave the room, probably,” Vader suggested. “Then we can see about deciding whether we want to keep this station or destroy it.”

He made a curious noise with his respirator. “Are the Empire’s succession laws real or an illusion? I am fairly sure I could abdicate in your favour if you would like.”

“Mon Mothma would be better, I think,” Luke said, after some consideration. “Or Lando. Lando might work.”

[islandofsages]

Hey ! I wanted to request a Ignihyde!Male!Reader that look like a little like Grim ? Like, they have the same ears and tail, the same fire (even if the reader controls his fire better than Grim) and people think they are from the same family/are connect ?

Just Grim and Reader looking at each other and asking to themselves if they have just meet their secret brother, and Ace, Deuce, Ortho, Idia and parental figure!Trein being confused to their friend (Grim for Adeuce, Reader for Ortho and Idia) having (a possible) brother.

(Ignore it if you don't want to write it)

Have a good day.

characters: ace, deuce, the shroud brothers and trein x male ignihyde reader

tags: platonic, fluff, imagines + scenario format; implication of yuu, mention of azul

warnings: nothing

author's notes: sorry this took a while! and that i strayed a bit again help. hope you like this <3

You’re one of the only beastmen in Ignihyde - and you’re okay with that. It gets a little lonely at times but that’s nothing new for an Ignihyde student. People mind their own business, you mind yours. And the only friends you have, in this case the Shroud brothers, basically forget that you’re different from the others. Days are hardly interesting, despite the college’s many atrocities - or maybe because, and now you’re desensitized.

Until one day, you spot a creature, all feline-like and sitting on someone’s shoulder. Okay, not the weirdest thing you’ve seen at NRC so far, so you’re about to shrug it off. Then you see it; a tail and a pair of ears that are eerily similar to your own. What’s next, it can manipulate fire as freely as you do?

“Hey guys, I’ve got a new trick up my sleeve. Watch this!”

One thing you didn’t expect for it to have something in common with you is that it can talk. Though maybe you should be less surprised, considering even the paintings on the walls can talk in this place. But still. You forget that you should be expecting something from the words it just spouted and are caught off guard when it starts spewing fire next. This creature is way too talented at throwing out stuff from its mouth, you think as you jump out of the way just in time to avoid being burnt to a crisp.

“Grim, you can’t just spit fire whenever you want to! We’ve been over this!”

A redheaded student in front of you starts to scold the creature whose name is Grim apparently. He looks familiar but you can’t quite put your finger on it-

“You’re just jealous, Ace.”

Oh, you feel like Idia’s talked about this Ace person before. He described him as “crafty” and seemed to think of him as some sneaky extrovert but you’ve learnt to not put much faith in Idia’s descriptions of other people. No offense to your friend but at least he’s somewhat self-aware of how anxious he gets around others.

“I definitely am not??? This is the same thing that almost got us expelled, you know!”

You feel like you may also have heard of a group of first years almost getting expelled until they somehow got their hands on a magestone the headmage told them to get, as if you can just swing by a store and buy one. You know how hopeless Headmage Crowley and dumping a lot of work on a bunch of freshmen is in character but you can't help but feel disappointed anyway.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree. You really have to learn how to keep your pride in check…”

Another student, blue-haired and you assume is Ace’s friend, chimes in on the scolding. The student whose shoulder Grim has made himself at home only shook their head, most likely accustomed to his behavior. You watch them bicker as you ruminate on the resemblance of that strange creature to you.

After a few minutes of thinking (and walking so that you don't lose them), you decide that the fact that you were almost a victim of Grim’s flames is strong enough of an excuse to allow you to approach the friend group.

“Hey. You four.”

They turn around to notice you finally (though you can hardly blame them – save for Idia and his glow-in-the-dark-esque hair, Ignihyde students are not noticed as much). It takes them a second to realize that you're no ordinary student. When they do, their jaws fall open, letting out a wild “Huh?!”.

Grim himself jumps off the quiet student's shoulder and stands on his two feet. The day is getting crazier and crazier the longer you entertain this coincidence. He then points at you and begins his bullshit-spewing again.

“W-Who are you?! And why do you look like me?!”

You should be asking the same questions right now but the lack of answers for them makes any word on the tip of your tongue die before they can escape. Plus, the way he's saying his words sound more accusatory than you’d like to admit.

“Don’t look at me! I'm just like this!”

Grim doesn't seem satisfied by your answer and honestly, you can't blame him. You both are quite confused by what's happening at the moment. You two resort to unconsciously recreating the two-Spidermen-pointing-at-each-other meme. The other three students also seem to be at a loss from what they're witnessing.

Ace Trappola

He would laugh at Grim and point out how he's not special anymore but he's too stunned to even say anything (at least for now)

He looks you up and down again then pinches himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating

He feels like he should be less surprised and that the uncanny resemblance could just be passed off as a coincidence but he has to admit, seeing you two as not brothers may prove to be a little difficult for him

He gets used to you two over time and stops questioning it altogether. Sometimes he even forgets

At times, he’d poke fun at Grim and say how you two are way too different personality-wise to even be correlated in some way

But deep down, he’s happy for Grim he found someone similar to him 

He won’t say that aloud obviously.

Deuce Spade

His eyes dart from you to Grim then you again. This goes on for a minute

He almost asks you if you can also breathe fire so recklessly

He ends up interrogating you, like a parent doing a background check on the friend you just brought home

Sooner or later, he concludes that you two are “bros”, despite not having the same feline characteristics

He’s glad Grim found his long-lost brother (he gets a smack from Grim for this)

He would notice how Grim’s smiles oftentimes are wider when you’re around, probably feeling some kind of kinship with you

And he gets that - since you all are “bros” now, he’s more than willing to have your backs now

After sorting things out with the freshmen, you return to your cave like the nerd that you are, feeling more exhausted than usual. To your surprise, you also return to two nerds being in said cave. A Shroud brothers ambush is not something that happens too often.

“Hey (Y/N). We decided that your place needs trashing. Also Ortho wants to try out this new game he found but it needs at least three players.”

Sounds about right. The geeks are geeking out as usual, just at your place this time. But you need them to hear about how crazy today was. You open your mouth to say something-

“I tried to convince him to get Azul but you know how stubborn my brother is.”

Ortho cuts you off and you force a nervous chuckle as a response. You agree but you should really get this off your chest-

“Hm? Did you guys hear something~?”

Idia teases and it brings a genuine laugh out of you and Ortho. Then you take a deep breath and release it. Third time’s the charm, right? You try again.

“Listen, you two. You wouldn’t believe what happened today.”

They perk right up at the promise of gossip (specifically, gossip related to you). You jump a bit from the excitement, finally glad you got their attention. Your hands start to gesture while you tell today’s story.

“I found this… cat. His name is Grim? He has the exact same ears and tail that I do! And he can breathe fire too! Except he does it with no regards to his surroundings whatsoever. That’s kinda concerning.”

Idia Shroud

“You saw wittle Gwimmy??? Man, I’m so jealous… I’ve been in need of some cat therapy for a while now…”

By the sound of it, he already knows who he is. You gasp dramatically at this, feeling betrayed at the fact he never told you about him

He tells you to chill and simply excuse that he didn’t think it was that important or anything

Of course, at first he was shocked but then he pondered about the coincidence - concluded that weirder things have happened and can happen

You’re unamused by this but it is very Idia. You suppose if you have a curse where it burns blot in your body nothing can really be seen as weird

Still, he entertains the possibility of you having a non-human distant cousin

If he isn’t already so nerdy, it feels like he’s growing a second brain trying to theorize what your relation to Grim is…

Ortho Shroud

Also already knows who he is. This truly is a Shroud brothers ambush… of betrayal at that

Theatrics aside, you try to pry him for further information and maybe explain how you and Grim may be related

“Sorry (Y/N), I’d love to help but Grim has been avoiding both of us for a while now. Whether that’s intentional or not, I’m not sure, but I sure wish I was with you when you ran into him. I’m sure I could’ve gotten some valuable information from him!”

You have your doubts about that.

While you keep things to yourself, Ortho provides you with Grim’s surface level information - which is basically nothing

So you two vow to get closer to Grim; even with the ulterior motive, it doesn’t hurt to have more friends Idia would beg to differ

Grim-like traits aside, it’ll be eye-opening to him to see if you two are similar in any regard at all - whether it be from your healing presence to your dazzling smile.

The next morning, you walk to your first class of the day: History of Magic. A fairly interesting class regardless of your stance on the subject. Professor Trein goes on and on about something, you write things down in your notebook. Your eyes are on Lucius for half of the class too. Your mind is still stuck on the events of yesterday. You feel like you’d be reminded of Grim any time you lay your eyes on anything feline - including yourself.

At last, class is dismissed. As much as you enjoy the class and genuinely like Professor Trein, you can’t help but feel that classes are dragged out way too much in this college. You pack up your things and you leave around the same time the professor does. So when Grim comes running and tackles you to the hallway floor, he’s there to witness it all.

“Hey twin! Wanna have lunch with us later? You’ll be seating with us cool kids!”

As you try to regain your composure over being literally knocked over and the fact that Grim has already warmed up to you, Professor Trein attempts to comprehend the scene unfolding before him.

Mozus Trein

Yes, of course he needs to scold Grim over misbehaving for the umpteenth time that week, but he’s also in awe of how… similar you and Grim look.

If he’s seen either of you before, whether in vicinity of each other or not, he’s never noticed blame it on the old grandpa eyes

People (and creatures now too, accounting for Grim’s being here) of your traits and abilities are far and few between

As much as he’d like to inquire you two on your ancestries (and their possible connection), he does respect your privacy

He always liked having you in his class but now, he finds himself looking out for you more often, a way to put his energy from his curiosity about you into something else

He’d ask you about your day and jokingly ask how your relationship with your long-lost brother is doing as if he’s not acting like a dad himself

Needless to say, he’s definitely your favorite teacher now.

You accept Grim’s offer for whatever reason and have lunch with the “cool kids”. You feel a little out of place at first, hanging out with people who aren’t the Shrouds, but then you start having lunch with them every other day. Then you start visiting Ramshackle Dorm where Grim is staying and spend time with the others there. At some point, you brought the Shrouds along and they would bring their games.

Suddenly, you know a lot of people. You think to yourself how crazy friendships start. You go from not knowing their name to knowing what they named their pet rock when they were a child. And in Grim’s case, you went from pointing at each other confusingly to pointing at each other for stealing each other’s food.

For the record, he definitely stole your pudding first.

[astaroth1357]

Oh God, What Have We Done??: Father!Belphegor Headcanons

You know, I was going to write this for Simeon, and I still might, but Belphie lost the Dad poll and I must right an injustice when I see one.

Content: Somehow incredibly fluffy with Big Happy Family vibes; mostly meme fodder

~♡♡♡~

I refuse to believe this could have been planned. No person in their right mind is going to look at Belphie and go, "Oh yeah. That's some real good father material right there!" Belphegor wouldn't even say that to himself.

Either a condom broke, a pill was skipped, or some orphaned demon child imprinted on these two like a baby duck and followed them home. Either way, NO ONE wanted this, but it's happening.

Belphegor's reaction to realizing that he's a Dad:

Everyone else's reaction to realizing Belphegor is a Dad:

Beel's reaction to realizing that he is an Uncle:

But seriously though, Beel is the only one with any kind of unwavering faith that his twin can pull this off. Never doubts him for a second and never will.

Everybody else though....? Well. Satan is already cleaning out the local libraries of their parenting books, Asmo's searching Mommy blogs, and Lucifer keeps staring off into the middle distance like he's questioning every single life decision that has brought them to this point. Fear is rampant, despair is on high.

The biggest worry is that Belphegor is going to leave MC more or less high and dry. He's not exactly known to be a "go-getter" when times are tough and though he has his soft side, sure, no one would call it particularly "nurturing."

Diavolo and Barbs weren't even sure if they should announce the news to the realm. Of course one of the Lords of the Hell having an offspring is a pretty big deal but under these circumstances...

What if it was treated like a joke by the populous? Painting a target for ridicule on Belphie and MC's backs had to be the LAST thing anybody wanted...

Even Belphegor, in a pretty heartbreaking moment of self-reflection, tried to convince Beel to take over for him instead. Not to shirk the responsibility, but out of pure acknowledgement that he would make the better father between them...

Beel, of course, was not having this for a second. And you know what? Everyone would do well to listen to the wisdom of Beel! Because he knew instinctively something that everyone else had conveniently forgotten-

No matter the circumstances, Belphie's kid was a part of the family. And that meant that they, the MC, and even Belphie himself were never going to be doing this alone.

And that fact was proven quickly enough when every member of the family, extended or otherwise, stepped up to lend a hand.

Levi and Mammon took it on themselves to go out and buy whatever baby items they needed and seemingly came in every day with handfuls upon handfuls of bottles, baby gates, socket covers, and TOYS (literally so many toys. They bought more toys than diapers).

Lucifer and Asmo set to work on renovating a nursery/kid's room almost immediately. The eldest had the plans drafted within a week of the news while Asmo buried MC and Belphie in paint swatches and magazine catalogs for the walls and decor.

Satan roped Beel in to help him train Belphegor to be a little less lazy and more attentive to the MC and the baby. Even going so far as to curse a baby monitor to sound like fog horn to him and only him if the kid began to cry.

The angels chipped in with gifts and free offers to babysit (mostly from Simeon, but Luke is already eyeing the little one like a baby sibling and is protective as such).

Solomon uh... Well Solomon offered to cook MC whatever they wanted through the pregnancy at first, but when that got a HARD veto he switched to just giving HoL a touch of magic baby proofing. Nobody can figure out how to get under the kitchen sink anymore, but that means the baby won't either!

And, of course, despite Belphegor not liking him much, Diavolo is probably the BEST psudeo-uncle a kid could have. He's already sent Barbatos out to curate the best baby food and Lucifer is training him on how to hold infants properly so he can take turns being babysitter with Simeon.

As a father... Belphie isn't perfect. He did whine more than a few times about no longer being the "baby" everyone doted on. A couple times, he may even act just as childish as his kid...

But in the moments late at night when he's rocking them in his arms, dead tired from being awake for hours but determined to make sure they sleep first...

Or when he's walking around the House with them tucked to his chest because they'll never cry if he holds them.

How he pays attention to every little thing that interests them so he can craft each of their dreams more exciting than the last...

Or how he, more than any of the others, knows what a precious treasure it is to be with those you love since you never know when they'll be gone...

He'll do alright. With the love and support of everyone else, their child will have everything they need...

As long as they don't turn out as spoiled as he is 💀

[narutoandanimearemyheart]

GOOD WITH WORDS: PLATONIC KAKASHI X FEM STUDENT! READER

Despite being seemingly aloof, Kakashi Hatake was a very observant man. Especially when it came to his students. He instantly knew when something was wrong with any of them, even if they tried to pretend as if they were okay.

That’s how he instantly noticed that you weren’t okay. Your downtrodden expression always said everything. It was written all over your face. Now Kakashi wasn’t the best at dealing with emotions, but if he cared about someone enough, he would try his best, and you were one of his students so of course he would comfort you.

He had found you in the woods all by yourself throwing a kunai at a target on the tree angrily, you looked so frustrated. He had expected you to feel that way, you had embarrassed yourself during training, and you were the last of your teammates to understand a new jutsu technique.

He came up to you and you jumped as you saw him, “Oh! Kakashi-Sensei, I didn’t notice you..” you said in a startled tone. He gave you a closed eyed smile behind his mask and you could see that was smiling due to the way his mask shifted and how his eyes still crinkled. You personally didn’t understand why he didn’t just take off his mask. What on earth was he hiding behind that mask?? That’s what you, Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto were all trying to figure out, but had been rather unsuccessful.

“You seem to be rather down in the dumps after this mornings training session.” You frowned, of course he noticed. You hated feeling like you were the last one to understand things on the team, and you hated failing. You were a bit of a perfectionist and always wanted to get things right, you hated failing and you always pushed yourself to extreme levels. That’s why when you couldn’t master this one chakra control technique you were beating yourself up over it, and resorted to throwing kunais at a target until you felt better.

“Because I failed.. I was the only one who didn’t understand the technique. Even Naruto understood it before me.” Kakashi chuckled and spoke “Ah that’s rather odd isn’t it, but you have to give it to Naruto, he’s very persistent and hardworking, which you also are, but your downfall is that your belief in yourself is low. You can’t become a full fledged Shinobi if you don’t believe in yourself. Believing in yourself is the key, because even hard work and determination can only get you so far.” You sighed, you knew that you had low belief in yourself, and that a pessimistic and negative mindset would never get you anywhere as a Shinobi, however you couldn’t help, you just had a pretty bad self esteem. Kakashi spoke softly “You know, I used to have a teammate just like you.. well not similar in personality, similar struggles. He always struggled with the Shinobi arts, however he got better, you know why? Because he always believed in hard work. He proved himself at the most crucial moment, and so can you. All he did was just believe in himself and have some guts. At the end of the day that’s really what you need in the end.”

You slowly nodded, belief.. no wonder all of your teammates were improving so quickly, because they believed in themselves. You really had to get your act together if you wanted to achieve your goals. Belief was so important, all of the great shinobis of the leaf would have never gotten to where they are today if they hadn’t believed in themselves, even Naruto himself wouldn’t be improving so much without the unshakeable faith he had in himself.

While you were still uncertain you took your sensei’s words to heart and nodded. “Thank you Sensei.. I’ll try to believe in myself more.. I can’t make any promises but I will try and do my best.” You spoke confidently. “You’re a strong kunoichi Y/N and you have a lot of potential, don’t let your insecurities get the better of you, you wouldn’t want all that talent and hard work to go to waste.” Even though Kakashi wasn’t the best at dealing with emotions, when he tried to be, he was a rather good comforter.

Kakashi had to admit, you teminded him of his former teammate Obito. Obito in the sense that you were determined and hard on yourself when you didn’t live up to your expectations, and be insecure about your strength and falling behind your teammates. You however just needed to have belief in yourself, and you’d shine, just like how Obito did in his last few moments.

“Thank you Sensei. I promise I won’t let you down.” He glanced over at you. “I know you won’t..” He then walked away humming softly to a tune you didn’t quite understand, but you felt a new sense of determination within you. You could master this technique, and you would. While you were still uncertain you knew you had to take a chance. As Naruto always said hard work meant nothing if you didn’t believe in yourself.

Who knew that your seemingly aloof and nonchalant Sensei could be so good with words. That man was truly full of surprises. With the wind in your hair, you felt more confident than ever before.

[vidavalor]

I've had to disconnect from my dash because of all the negativity; I honestly do not get why people are acting like a semblance of justice+a movie is the worst thing in the world?

I'm mourning for the full six-episode season we lost because ng couldn't pass the utmost basic sub-zero bar for not acting like scum and of course I wish amazon had kicked him out and then sprung for it anyway (and honestly, as long as you're blaming the right person, I think it's fine to feel upset? We deserved better, the cast and crew deserved, Terry deserved better, and this one guy ruins it for everyone because the bar was buried six feet deep beneath the ground and he still managed to go lower, and that does suck, and it is miserable and unfair, so take a moment if you need it 🤷‍♀️) but let's face it, we got off lucky. Arguably, considering this was a standalone novel from the nineties, that then got made, in one of the best book adaptations I've ever seen, into a limited standalone tv miniseries (and, again, emphasising the standalone here, so even if it all goes to hell in a handbasket, we'll still always have S1 and the book; people have been ignoring the Jurassic Park sequels for nearly three decades), and then got a surprise sequel, we were pretty lucky the whole way through.

And regarding the whole what if it's bad thing, I was always going to be worried: I was anxious long before this shit went down, and I was anxious before S2 and even S1, as well. It's not like we ever had any guarantee it was going to be good beforehand either, and at this point, knowing what we do now, I'm not at all sure I'd have trusted ng to write this anyways. So while, yeah sure, I'm maybe a little more anxious now, I trust Michael and David with these characters and I trust Rob and Rhianna with Terry's legacy and story and that they wouldn't have fought so hard for this ending unless they planned to keep fighting and thought they could pull it off. Isn't the problem with this kind of thing normally that what happnes is the creator who cares deeply about the work gets pulled in favour of someone out-of-touch who cares not a jot about the story and needs to leave their own grubby fingerprints all over it? More the other way around here, no?

Anyway, what I also wanted to say was that I really appreciated your 'think of it as the final two episodes of season two' (and all your takes on this situation so far, very level-headed and optimistic, thank you). I mean, you're right, and it's hardly wildly out-there for a series to finish on a feature-length special, and although the filler material in S2 and the compression of S3 maybe means it doesn't exactly resemble what the second book would have been, it was only ever meant to be two books. (Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed S2 and was very glad to get it, even though I am a book/S1 fan and also had the most fun in that time fandom pre/post/around the time of the S1 release, but why does it exist? Ego? You can't tell me you couldn't have fit the important parts of S2 into one season with the S3 plotline.)

Basically, I'm grieving the could-have-beens (imagine if he'd been exposed way earlier and the TP estate had had control of this whole production from the very start!) and I'm a little worried that that hurt'll stick around no matter how good S3 is - which I need to fix, because that's more power over my favourite show and what it means to me that I want to give anyone, let alone someone like that - but at the end of day, I do think it definitely can be done with what we have, and I'm choosing to be hopeful it'll be done well, because, well, why wouldn't I?

(I will say this hasn't been great for my faith in humanity, because I really want to believe not all men are shit and some of them are making it very difficult right now, but that's an entirely different problem and so far believing most people are mostly good has always prevailed in the end so. y'know. we'll get there. might reread discworld, that's always good for that.)

Sorry for venting all this at you! I just kinda felt the need to write it all down once to get it off my chest... have a snack on me? I'm partial to cherry tomatoes, green melon and mandarines at the moment (I stop eating salads in winter, which means I default to eating even more fruit) but I can also offer homemade baked goodies fresh from this morning? 🥧

Hi there. 💕 You are welcome to vent away & thank you for the delicious-sounding snacks and kind words. I'm glad my posts on the movie boosted your spirits about it. I agree with and can relate to almost everything that you said here so assume that anything that I don't address just has a 'yes, absolutely' nod happening. 🙂‍↕️

The one thing I want to touch on here is S2 and this idea of it being "filler" that you mentioned that I think might not be quite accurate. I think you (and anyone else who reads this) might feel more enthused about the idea of a good ending in 90 minutes after reading this so hopefully this'll be another way that I can help?

On why S2 is really the whole story and actually had a lot more going on in every way than S1...

Ok, I'm going to explain something that drives writers like myself bonkers 😂 and that is how some readers or viewers of fictional stories mix up plot and story.

Nothing grinds our gears than reading things like "filler" and "unnecessary subplots" because, while everyone is within their rights to have an opinion on written works, 95% of the time, the person who says phrases like this isn't talking about the quality of the work but of its very existence. They're saying "why did we have to read/watch this? it didn't connect to anything" and that's where they are very, very, very... argh, just tell them, Crowley...

...thank you, dear. Right, so, why is it wrong?

Because what many people who don't write don't understand about subplots and more character-driven story arcs is that the writers sat down and decided to do that stuff for very, very specific story reasons. Readers and viewers mistake plot for story. Plot only exists in service of story and, so, all plots exist for a purpose in the story. They're all relevant. In fact, the stuff people usually label as "filler" in a story is really exactly where they should be looking to figure out what the story is saying. If you're big mad about all this time you spent with Maggie and Nina in S2, I'd say you might not still understand what S2 was about because you won't understand Aziraphale's story without understanding both Maggie and Nina's struggles in S2, for example.

A story is the whole, overall thing. It's the meanings, themes, and messages in the work. It's what's being said. It's the ideas being put forth by the piece. It's what it's about. It's different from plot, which is just the stuff the writers are making the characters do or not do in order to tell the story that they are looking to tell. Story is the art; plot is a tool used to make that art. Fiction writers can come at their story from almost anywhere to convey what it is that they are trying to say so there is meaning in the fact that they are choosing to tell their stories the way that they are telling them. They came up with these ideas for reasons.

When you dismiss stuff as filler, you're saying that it's lesser than more in-your-face and bigger plots (when, often, it's very much not), and you're telling a writer how they should have written their own story-- most of the time, without even fully seeing the ending of that story or giving any consideration to why it is that the writer wanted you to read or watch the stuff you're saying wasn't necessary. I'm not arguing that every story is perfect but you aren't getting anywhere near close to being able to evaluate a story if you're not willing to dive into what you were given and consider why it was that you were given those things and what they might mean.

Until the main question that you're asking about every single aspect of a story is "what is this saying?", you're not really fully engaging with a work. You won't get there by dismissing what the artists are telling you is important.

The secret sauce to interpreting fiction are subplots, actually. They exist to help highlight the themes of the main story, often in a slightly more direct way. If you want to understand Good Omens, starting with Ineffable Bureaucracy is actually one of the best ways to get at the core of the themes of the story. It's far from wasted time in the story.

There's actually a funny nod to the importance of subplots in 1941 when Aziraphale references Sophocles, the playwright who basically created the concept of the supporting character whose story mirrors and parallels the main character(s). The mention of Sophocles shows up in S2, the season that brings Gabriel more fully into his purpose as exactly that.

The reason why S2's plot is centered around the honestly pretty easily solvable mystery as to what's happened to Gabriel is because Gabriel, from the get-go, has been the entire story distilled down.

If you follow nothing but Ineffable Bureaucracy in Good Omens, you're going to be closer to getting what it's about and where it's going and what its end game is than you are if you are dismissing it as wasted time when we only have few episodes left. If you haven't yet seen the secret wisdom in Jim-- not to mention understand that Jim and Gabriel are the same person-- then you're probably wigging out more about the movie.

You likely think that S2 was wasted on stuff like Gabriel, or Maggie and Nina's romance, when they should have been getting to Armageddon and The Second Coming already!

You haven't yet noticed that Armageddon has more than one meaning in the series.

It's not always the literal destruction of Earth but also a person's own life crisis. We are all worlds of our own and those worlds can be put at risk if we don't let others in and take care of ourselves and those around us.

When you realize this, you can start to see that S1 goes hard with a freight train of plot all over the place that is related to Armageddon in a more Biblical, apocalyptic sense while it establishes its universe for us but that, once we know how it all works, we can get something like S2... a time where we can step back and start using Armageddon in the more figurative way that the story is also presenting it.

We need to because the story isn't about Heaven or Hell-- it's about being a person. S2 is emphasizing the deeper aspects of the themes and rolling that out at a pace more in line with a person having a few days of inner crisis. When you see that Aziraphale's crisis is the point then you can see how S1 can be about The Four Horsepeople riding to the end of the world and S2 can show War (inner conflict), Pollution (mental health issues), and Famine (symptoms of the other two; lack of food and pleasure and connection; self-starvation and self-denial) as a mental health crisis.

The point is that if you're thinking these characters need to come together to overthrow Heaven and Hell and get to the South Downs Cottage and there's no time slajdflkfwjlkejlje!?!?, then you aren't realizing that not every revolution involves guns and bombs.

People all over the world can start a love train that's far more effective. You might think a subplot about The Hellhound and The Ginger Cat learning to play nice and that they have a fuckton in common and should maybe bury the hatchet and just become eternal bffs already is filler but Crowley and Gabriel aligning is set up for the end game. It's strength in numbers and finding peace and family. They can't overthrow Heaven/Hell without help and Gabriel is the Supreme Archangel. They literally will never have a South Downs Cottage ending without a plot that helped Crowley and Aziraphale see that Gabriel and Beez are on their side.

This is the revolution in Good Omens:

It will take all the characters coming together to overthrow Heaven/Hell and set up something new for us to get a happy ending and we absolutely will. S2 is Gabriel-centric because Gabriel is the key to all of the characters getting a peaceful ending and because he's a split-directly-down-the-middle mirror of both Crowley and Aziraphale. In a season that is more about Aziraphale's inner Armageddon than about an external threat, Gabriel is vital to telling that story. The plot of S2 is every bit as important to the story as S1. I'd argue that it's even more important because takes the time to go at the themes in a slower, deeper way. It needs to because it's a story of a fall that sets up for a story in S3 of a recovery from one.

Good Omens is the absolute perfect combination of a show that is both very, very detail-oriented and full of depth while also being, secretly, an incredibly simple story. I do not mean simple in a negative way but in a chef's kiss sort of way. Simple in a tight and elegant sort of way. This is something that I think some people might not see when they're theorizing but it's something to keep in mind ahead of the movie. Not just because the movie is shorter-- this would have been relevant if we were having a longer S3, too.

Good Omens has a very engaged fan base that looks for the details, yes. *raises hand* I'm one of them lol. And there will be plenty to pour over in the movie, but... the big thing to keep in mind is that your theory needs to be something that is simple, that can be explained in under a handful of scenes, tops, and that is focused on where Aziraphale's story arc is going above anything and everything else.

If you're beginning with time loops and the birth of a new antichrist baby, I'm telling you from ages of experience reading and writing stories, you're going to be way off. If you are over here composing theories of the story that you are arguing are correct and this theory involves, idk... *makes something up* Crowley is really Elvis and Elvis is really The Bentley and when a rainbow hits Whickber Street at exactly 4 minutes into the new season, Satan will be revealed to really be Jesus, I think maybe you might be missing the point of the details that the show has given already. Like the plot, these details exist to reinforce the themes of the story. Story beats everything else-- it's what this is all about.

And what Good Omens is about? Is best summed up by Michael Sheen, in this single sentence that I really, really agree with and have paraphrased more than once in posts:

Good Omens is about the business of living. It's about the human experience, which is the experience of being a person. Everything related to Heaven and Hell and good and evil and Armageddon and supernatural things is plot that only exists to highlight a story about the complexities of being a person.

The supernatural is human and the human is supernatural.

That is what Good Omens is about.

While Crowley and Aziraphale are built as two halves of a whole and are both main characters, Aziraphale is the main character from a technical, story perspective, because he is the character whose story arc is driving both the plot and story forward. He's heading for a happy ending with Crowley in the South Downs by the end of the film. If you're making theories, start with what kind of plot would truly get him there and still fit with all of the themes of the story.

This 'it's about being a person' business is why if you look at S2 as filler and not as a season that is exploring the continuing themes on a deeper level, you're still worried about things like there being no time in a movie to show the story of a new antichrist kid being born or how they're going to fit the whole Second Coming into the movie. You don't yet see that Aziraphale parallels Adam and that being an antichrist is basically just being a person and that Aziraphale is presently the antichrist in the story. There is no antichrist child yet to be born. They won't be cutting it because it's not the story.

Armageddon since S2 has been Aziraphale's own personal one and the story from the end of S2 on is now how, if all the other characters can't come together to help him, it could also trigger Armageddon of the S1, Earth-destroying kind. It's tying a more literal Armageddon into a more figurative one. Because this story is about being a person so Armageddon is just metaphorical for going through a mental health crisis and shutting people out.

This story's themes include that every person matters and we all have to let others in and look out for one another. That there's strength in numbers. That found family and adopted family is as much family as biological family-- often, even more so. That labelling and categorizing people is bullshit and you should always open the cover and read the first sentences of people and help people whose stories begin with the same letters find one another. That it might be surprising who has things in common. It's about all of Heaven and Hell versus all of humanity, in the sense that ideas of being a perfect angel or being seen as an evil demon are concepts felt by human beings that get in the way of peace and healthy, happy living, but that fighting them is a common, human struggle, regardless of from where you come.

If you are too focused on the religious plot being the center of the film, you haven't yet seen the meaning of why the end of S1 was an eleven year old kid saving the world by telling off the bio-dad that was never there for him. You might be one of the people who thought this a silly, anti-climatic ending to that story, and don't yet realize that this is the entire story in a nutshell.

Adam can only reject Satan and keep the darkness at bay because he is surrounded-- here, literally-- by a family that supports him. He has good people for parents and was lucky enough to grow up with resources that all kids in this world should have. He has an absolutely terrific group of friends. He has this witch lady and her boyfriend and these two gay uncles that just showed up out of nowhere 😂 and his human incarnate self has what it needs to make it through this crisis, in this moment, even if he'll probably have others throughout his life, just like all of us. He's not evil incarnate and he doesn't have to be perfect-- he's just a person.

Aziraphale tells Adam this but struggles to see himself in the same way. That's what S2 is about.

S2 is about that other kid who, like Adam, breaks the season down into a single line of dialogue, David Tennant's apparent favorite from the season:

Jemimah knows who she is and she is happy to claim ownership over her art and contributions to the world. She's living her life with excitement and enthusiasm in a way that gets more complicated as we become traumatized adults. Crowley and Aziraphale struggle with this. They have been making a life together on Earth for thousands of years and each struggle, in their own ways, to truly accept that they are people who are allowed to have a life because they struggle to accept that they are people, just like everyone else.

Their story is about getting to a better place with that. That's really all Good Omens fundamentally is. That's why their ending is going to be to go live in a little cottage together that isn't a business that covers up an angelic embassy that covers up a secret love den. It's just their house-- theirs together for the life they're going to live openly together.

If you want some peace with the film, I'd advise throwing over your theories about The Second Coming and Armageddon needing to happen and antichrist kids and how Jesus fits into everything. Jesus in Good Omens is Crowley romancing Aziraphale at the crucifixion and Aziraphale using what Jesus said to Crowley to reject temptation as invitation to fuck him. I thought Jesus in a single scene or less was the most likely thing for S3 and the same holds for the movie. It's not the story. The only time The Second Coming is mentioned in S2 is by the villain and, to get there, Earth would have to first be destroyed. It won't be.

If the story is about being a messy human walking the Earth and we're in the end game now, then the story is about Aziraphale and only Aziraphale. Everything-- everything-- will be in service of Aziraphale's story arc. We already had just a few episodes with S3 and we now have even less time but the way this is going is still the same. The story is Aziraphale's fall and the other characters coming together to challenge Heaven to keep Aziraphale from eternity in Hell. That's how Armageddon is stopped this time around-- overthrowing Heaven with Aziraphale's fate as the motivation to take on The Metatron. It's nothing to do with Jesus. It's everything to do with Aziraphale.

When you see that, you can see how feasible that is in 90 minutes, with plenty of time for things like 1941, Part 3 and other flashbacks.

I think, when all is said and done, you might wind up appreciating S2 more after the film but you can get there already if you start looking at it less as meaningless fluff and start asking why it is that we were shown this story, in this way, and what that can tell us about the story we're watching.

[multific]

Meant to Be

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: You and Fred were always inseparable. It took you years and years to finally understand why.

You felt his breath on your neck as he slept behind you, his arm around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he slept.

You heard his other brothers in the room snoring. It was as if George and Percy were having a competition on who could be louder.

But you were focusing on Fred, your boyfriend laying behind you as he slept comfortably.

Fred asked you to spend Christmas with him and his family and why would you say no?

Fred and you had been practically inseparable since 3rd year. At first, you two were only friends but you always knew it was meant to be more. 

You became his girlfriend a year later when he asked you.

The two of you were soulmates.

People often told you that and in the beginning, you didn't believe them. But now you did.

How else could you explain your deep love towards the boy?

You loved his mischievous ways, you loved him.

So, when he asked you if you wanted to come over for Christmas so his parents can officially meet you, you were nervous, but you said yes.

And you were glad that you did because his parents are wonderful. 

You felt so welcomed and Molly even gave you a present, a lovely scarf which you will wear with pride.

When you mentioned that you rather sleep with Fred, no one had an issue with it, as if it was evident to them.

You slowly moved to turn around in his arms. His body moved with you but he didn't wake up. He moved onto his back as you moved your head into the place between his shoulder and neck.

He smelt like cinnamon, fireworks and warm. He smelled like home. 

Your hand moved to his chest as you soon fell asleep. You woke up to the noise of people talking.

You soon realized that Fred was talking as you felt the deep vibrations in his chest. 

He was talking with George who was laying in his bed not too far from you.

Percy, long gone possibly to help his mother.

You moved slightly and Fred placed a kiss to your forehead.

"Morning, Princess." you let out a groan as you turned the other way, with your back to him, ready to fall asleep.

"Wake her up, I'll tell mum you will be down soon." George said with a laugh as you heard him leave.

"Princess, Mum made breakfast, we should go."

"I'm too comfortable." you replied. It was true. You probably never slept any better than this night, in his arms.

He put kisses on your shoulder as you closed your eyes.

"Darling?" You hummed, waiting for him to continue. "I love you." you smiled, not opening your eyes as you whispered back.

"I love you too, Freddie." you let out a sigh before opening your eyes. You offered him a smile. "Let's get breakfast, wouldn't want your mum to think I'm lazy." 

"Oh, Darling, my mum adores you." Fred watched as you got out of bed, gathered your things and were about to head to the bathroom. 

Before you could, his long arms wrapped around you, as he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Gosh, I love you too much." he said and it made you giggle.

"I love you very much, Fred." with one last peck to your lips, he let you get ready as did he.

The two of you were definitely meant to be. He was your trickster while you kept him in lane.

He was the joker while you were more serious, but it didn't mean you two didn't fit, quite the opposite. 

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces who were meant to be.

You two were soulmates.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[stevie-petey]

first of all: the new chapter was AMAZING as always!! i know you are probably so so so busy with move in and classes starting and writing come home already, but i had a blurb idea (and it will obviously ALWAYS be dustin and steve interaction) of steve hanging out with dustin alone sometime soon after you get together, and them talking about it for the first time? it doesn't have to be any particular way i'm just SO curious what dustin's reaction was beyond the knee-jerk "ew you kissed my sister but also thank god because it took you long enough you moron"

stebe n dust <333

enjoy !

“you sure youre okay with driving dustin to mikes?”

steve rolls his eyes fondly at you. “yes, angel. its not even a ten minute drive. i can handle the kid.”

“i know. its just,” you bite your lip, unsure of how to voice what youre thinking. your brows scrunch together and steve thinks youre painfully adorable when youre overthinking. “its too hot for him to bike there, but you and i just started dating and dustin is… well. hes dustin.”

“you worried he’ll lecture me or something?”

“more like ask really invasive questions.”

steve laughs and kisses your hand, body leaning over the counter at your work. hes spent the entire days at bookstrordinary just to talk to you since scoops burned down. when he isnt job searching with robin, hes here with you.

“have some faith in me, y/n. im a big boy, i can take care of myself.”

you blink at him. “you cried yesterday when a lizard ran across your leg.”

“okay, thats entirely different. that thing looked at me with its beady little eyes and dared me to fight him.” steve shudders. “that thing was sentient.”

“youre really not making me feel any better about this, honey.” you groan, already dreading whatever your brother will say to him. youre sure dustin will somehow give the most bizarre, overly obnoxious yet endearing lecture known to man.

steve rolls his eyes again and grabs his keys, reluctantly pulling away from you. “i bet the kid forgot we’re even together now. relax, i’ll be back in no time.”

you call one last good luck to him before hes hone, leaving you alone in the store as the late july heat simmers the air.

at first everything is great. dustin is waiting for steve in the driveway and hops inside the car without any complaints. he turns the radio one and even smiles at steve.

but then, as dustin always does, he opens his mouth.

“i better not catch you sucking face with my sister.”

“dustin!” steve blanches, utterly mortified by what the boy has said. he almost veers off the road with how violently he cringes.

“im just saying! you two are weirdly touchy, and now that youre together, which by the way took you way too long to even do,” dustin looks pointedly at steve, who sighs. “i dont want you getting any gross ideas.”

the older teen rubs his face tiredly. he lasted three minutes. three blissful, quiet minutes. “good to know youre happy for us, then.”

dustin thinks for a moment. “well, i guess y/n could do worse. better than jonathan, at least.”

“thanks, dustin.” steve deflates, not at all believing the kid.

dustin recognizes the apprehension and he uncomfortably shifts in his head. he doesnt necessarily want to be all touchy-feely with the guy, but he also recognizes how much you love him. how good you and steve are together.

coughing, dustin looks out the window. he knows this is what youd want. “im happy she found you, steve.”

by now the wheelers driveway can be seen, but because steve is so startled by what dustin has confessed, he almost misses the turn.

clearing his own throat awkwardly, steve parks the car and looks at dustin. “you, uh. really mean that?”

“please dont make this any more unbearable.” the kid quips, leaning as far away from him as possible.

“right,” steve clears his throat again and unlocks the passenger door. he tugs at his seatbelt, needing something to do with his hands. “off you go, then.”

dustin quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and nearly falls out of the car in his hurry to leave. hes standing and about to walk away before he stops, turning around. leaving over the window, dustin lowers his voice. “hey, one last thing.”

steves voice catches in his throat, scared of where this is going. “yeah?”

ducking his head down, too shy to meet the other boys gaze, dustin finally says, “dont hurt y/n, alright? she-she really loves you. i know you love her, too. but shes… shes the best person in the world and im trusting you to be kind to her.”

“i…” steve stares at dustin, surprised by the sincerity in his voice and yet incredibly touched that hes being so vulnerable with him. to have your brother trust steve enough to be with you, to trust he wont hurt someone as selfless and soft as you, it means more to steve than dustin will ever know.

after years of being cruel to his classmates and growing up believing he wasnt worthy of anything gentle, steve cant believe hes being entrusted with you in his life.

it doesnt feel real, sometimes. being able to love you.

“i promise i’ll be kind to y/n,” steve says softly, meeting dustins eyes. its weird, being so delicate with the kid, but hes shared a lot with him, so its only fair steve does the same. “its because of her that im kind.”

“me, too.” dustin whispers. his eyes gleam, his mischievous smile is back. “guess we learned from the best, huh?”

steve laughs. “yeah, i guess we did.”

[cowpokeomens]

absolution

Pairing: Pastor!Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! A looot of references to religion (it all takes place in a church, so), smut smut smut (p-in-v) I'm including dubcon bc consent is weird with power dynamics, age gaps (10 yr) (everyone is of legal age though!!), some body horror stuff, power imbalance, I think that's all but if you come across something that I missed please reach out so I can tag accordingly!!! Love u bye!!!

A/N: This was really cathartic to write lmao I have a sprinkling of Religious Trauma and this helped me work through some of those feelings in my own weird horny way. It is porn, please don't start expecting me to be some kinda respectable writer with plotlines or whatever. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS. Okay enjoy!!!!

The guilt of it is eating you alive. 

The pressure between your legs- the raw, empty ache that plagues you day in and day out. Sitting on your pew, you are once again swept away by long, glossy hair and inked knuckles, turning sacred pages of a holy book that can do nothing to hold your attention at this moment.

What an impression of Christ he makes, you think to yourself, sounding hypnotized even in your internal monologue. 

He arrived when you were 19, to your small town, to your even smaller church. The rest of the folks in town think your congregation is too… fanatical. You can’t imagine a world in which someone could be over-zealous for the word of God, and even so, Pastor Karlsson had done a lot to level the congregation out. 

He was a divorcee, not by his choice, he has said. He was only 29 when he first rolled into town, funny accent and even funnier sounding name causing immediate distrust in your tight-knit community.

But God, did he have a testimony. Sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll, the tattoos adorning his body told you the story better than those gaudy stained glass windows in the snobby Catholic churches ever could. A lecherous lifestyle with a woman who didn’t love him, not really - not the way you do. He had humbled himself to you all, and you gladly let him in. He was made a pillar in your community - he became a leader to the congregation.

Which is why you always suppressed your feelings, putting them in a locked sarcophagus and hurling it to the far recesses of your mind. You will not be the thing that tries to come between him and the Lord.

You look up at him as he speaks, standing at the pulpit and wielding the word of God like the Archangel Michael who so valiantly struck down Satan. He who is made in God’s image; Had it not been for your utter devotion to the Lord, you would have wondered if he could sin at all.

But you knew better. Everyone carried their own sins. You had heard stories of husbands and wives who idolized each other so much that they left the church altogether. Your heart broke at the thought of leaving God’s light to worship something as sinful as human flesh, couldn’t imagine risking an eternity of paradise for what would one day be dust. 

Not that you’d know, of course. You’d never felt the touch of a man outside of when Pastor Karlsson baptized you the day before your 21st birthday. It had been fuel for weeks, his gentle hand on your back, guiding you underneath the water of the river that ran out behind the church. You had stuffed yourself full of your own fingers that night, stuffed your mouth full of bed linens so that no one would hear how you came undone at the mere thought of him. 

Perhaps you are the lecherous one, after all. Though you can’t help but think that God has given you Pastor Karlsson on purpose, as a test of your faith. A test that you believed you were passing, for the most part. You haven’t missed a Sunday sermon since you caught the flu in 2021, and even so, you watched the livestreams on Facebook. You keep your nose in your Bible, and ignore the clench in your gut when he tells you good morning. 

This morning is different. 

This morning is worse. 

You just come off of your period- disgusting and uncomfortable as it was, you are thankful it was over and you can enjoy the rest of your June in peace. But it lingers under your skin, an itch that can’t be scratched. Your emotions are raw, and you burst into tears twice this week, unprompted. Worst of all is the ache. 

You didn’t know you could feel so empty. It claws at your insides like a caged beast, mockingly calling in the voice of Moloch himself, “Fill me up, fill me up.”

You threw yourself headfirst into your studies; you reviewed Ecclesiastes as a way to ground yourself, to remind yourself that this was a temporary feeling, and would pale in comparison to the absolution of Heaven. 

Still, sitting in your pew, you felt the hunger gnashing at you, gnawing at your throat. It was overwhelming, all-consuming. You stutter through your hymnal, barely reading half the words. Your mother keeps giving you concerned looks, your father aloof as ever. Halfway through the sermon, she hisses in your ear, “What is the matter with you?” 

You blink up at her, wide-eyed, and stammer out a “I - I don’t know. I feel… weird.” 

She purses her lips, but says nothing, turning back to Pastor Karlsson in the pulpit. 

You pass the time in silence, feeling itchy and hot, until the sermon concludes, and everyone makes a mass exodus to the dirt lot where their cars are parked.

“Hold on.” Your mother stops you as you begin exiting your pew. 

She walks over and, to your utter horror, greets Pastor Karlsson, pulling him aside and speaking to him in hushed tones. He nods once, glancing at you, then nods again as she steps away. She looks grateful, patting his shoulder in that way that mothers do. 

He looks at you then, and his full attention is enough to make you combust. Suddenly your dress is too tight on your chest, your breasts straining with every breath against the linen that encases you. Your bones itch, but your hands stay resolutely tucked into your sides, your Bible held against your chest.

You’re so busy focusing on breathing that you don’t realize he’s walking towards you until he’s right in front of you, smiling warmly while greeting you by name. Your mother is by his side, looking at you in such a way that tells you she had something to do with this interaction. 

“Darling, Pastor Karlsson here wants a word with you. He even said he’d give you a ride back to the house! I’ll set aside a plate for you at home, you two take your time here.” She was smiling in a way that made all of her teeth visible, like a snarling animal. A lead brick settles in your stomach at the expression as you look up at Pastor Karlsson.

He was so tall, you think as you peer up at him. Dark eyes meet yours, making your gaze flicker away to something else- anything else to avoid the intensity you find there. Looking directly into his eyes was like looking into the maw of a starving beast- you weren’t brave enough to even consider it.

Your mother departs with a final “Wonderful sermon, Joakim, thank you!” Flashing one of her pageant smiles at him - one she’s never given your father - as she goes. 

He nods politely, murmuring a quiet, “All the glory to God.” before turning back to you. He gives you a thoughtful look before he speaks again.

“Your mother is concerned about you.” His tone was not accusatory or pointed, just repeating facts. 

You inhale shakily. “Yeah, I feel kind of weird today.” Admitting to such a thing is not a lie - you do feel weird today. 

He nods, as if understanding. Then, “Would you like to speak in my office? I have to pick up a few things, then we can head out.”

The thought of being in an enclosed space with him made you almost pass out, but you persevere, giving a meek nod as you follow him out of the sanctuary.

It was a short walk from the sanctuary to his office, your church is small, even among small churches. You love its modesty; It is a far cry from the towering spires and flying buttresses you saw in your history books back in school, but it has a self-effacing quality that makes it approachable to people from all walks of life. 

The walls are painted white, though slightly yellowed with age. Dark wood lines the floor, blue carpet cushioning your steps as you walk. There aren’t many windows - it was built for insulation, not sight-seeing, after all. Crosses hang sporadically throughout the hallways, some wooden, carved by members, others purchased at a discount at the craft stores a few towns over. 

His office is a glorified coat closet, something the elders threw together haphazardly when God called him to serve. It fit a desk, a desktop computer that was older than dirt, and two chairs, one on either side of the desk. The carpet is green, the walls beige, and you have always thought it is an entirely unbecoming space for such a Godly man. It’s a good thing he was humble; God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble, you think, almost bitterly, as he sits down in the chair by the computer. You make a mental note to work on your own humility as you sit down in the chair opposite him. 

“So, what’s got you feeling weird?” He asks with a small smile, putting his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers together. His hair falls over his shoulders with the movement, cascading down in a curtain of silk. You remind yourself to breathe. 

Stammering, you try to explain yourself. “I’m- I’m not sure, Pastor Karlsson-”

“Joakim.” He interrupts you gently. 

You blink at him, confusion evident in your face. He must find something about the expression amusing, because he’s smiling softly and continuing, “You can call me Joakim. We’re both grown-ups here.”

You swallow loudly, the sound all but ricochets in the stillness of the room. “R-right. I’m not really sure why I feel so weird. I just had a really hard time focusing today.” You suddenly realize what you’ve said, correcting yourself quickly. “Not that the sermon wasn’t good! Your sermons are always wonderful, Pastor Karls - Joakim.” 

He’s smiling broadly now, clearly entertained by your flailing. “It’s okay, käresta, I understand what you mean." A pause, then he lowers his hands. "Is there something on your mind specifically? Something that’s preventing you from focusing?”

You go still, scared to breathe too fully, lest it give you away. Your eyes slide to the ground, teeth coming out to gnaw at your lip. You can feel your heart racing in your throat- the throbbing sensation makes you wonder if you’ll actually vomit from anxiety. You freeze further when Joakim places a hand on your arm, gently.

His voice is barely audible when he whispers, “Hey, it’s okay. We all have our sins, and sin is sin -”

“- Is sin.” You finish for him, sounding unconvinced. You take a deep breath, then redirect your gaze back to him. His eyes are soft with concern, mouth pulled into the faintest frown. Hating to imagine you’re the reason he’s so upset, you blurt out before you can even process your words.

“I’ve been having lustful thoughts about a man in the congregation.” Once the words have been said, you fight the urge to grab them clean out of the air and stuff them back into your mouth. 

The hand on your arm tenses for half a second, then relaxes again. “Okay.” He begins calmly, pulling his hand back to the table. You resist the urge to whimper at the loss of contact. “I can see where your concern is coming from. Is this man married?”

There were only so many unmarried men in the congregation; it would be an easy elimination if you were truthful. But... You were already coming clean about one sin, no need to add on others, you reasoned. Shaking your head in a negative, you give a meek, “No, he’s not.”

Joakim nods thoughtfully, staying silent for a moment. You can all but see the gears turning in his mind, deducing who it could be. You wonder if he lists himself amongst the unmarried men- or if he is courting some woman, unbeknownst to you all. No, your mind fired at you venomously. He is not the sort of man to slink around in the shadows. 

Finally, he spoke. “While lust is never something to give full rein to, it is understandable, biologically speaking.” Upon seeing your confusion, he offers another soft smile, continuing. “You’re at an age where your body wants you to have children. It is what God made you for, it’s only natural that someone as devoted as you are would respond strongly to His plan. You’re not doing anything wrong, käresta.”

Relief floods your body, making your shoulders sag at the loss of tension. You aren’t doing anything wrong, Joakim even told you so. But that makes you wonder- is there anything you should be doing? You’re about to ask when he speaks again. 

“I’ve been wanting to speak with you privately for a while now.” He huffs a small laugh. “It seems the Lord thought today would be a good time, so it shall be.” 

You straighten your shoulders, sitting up, wanting to make sure he knows he has your full attention. Looking at him fully, you’re not surprised why your body is so responsive to him. He’s so handsome, even with the shadow of dark stubble on his face. You wonder what keeps him up at night, which chapters he gets stuck on for days before clarity dawns on him. It’s no mystery why your body is putting thoughts of lust in your mind; he’s the sort of man who would make a wonderful father. 

You cut off that train of thought, needing to focus on the present moment. He needs your full attention for whatever he’s going to say next. 

“The Lord has been communicating with me for some months now, on the topic of finding a wife.” You both take deep breaths, though for different reasons, you imagine. “You’ve heard my testimony on my previous marriage, so I don’t need to emphasize how much I’ve prayed about this.”

Your heart breaks, shatters, combusts into nothing but ash at his words. The Lord wants him to find a wife, and it sounds like he has someone in mind. You swallow the lump of bile in your throat, trying to listen to his next words as your guts fight the natural inclination to stay in your body.

“I’ve spoken to God a lot, the last few months- even by pastor standards.” The playful smile he gives you feels like a knife twisting in your chest. “And if I’m understanding his message correctly, I believe God wants me to court you.”

You’re so busy wallowing that you don’t understand what he’s said at first. The words sink in slowly, like the drip of an IV into your veins. When you think you understand, you manage a, “What?”

He chuckles, not a degrading sound, rather like he understands your confusion. “I know, it seems sudden, but I’ve been speaking to the Lord about this for many months, and-”

“Oh my goodness.” You interrupt as realization hits you like a freight train. “No - I know. I know. Because God has been speaking to me, too.”

Joakim’s brow furrows at you, and it feels nice to not be the confused one for once. 

You continue, looking up at him shyly. “The… lustful thoughts I’ve been having, they-” You pause, building up your courage. “They’re about you.” 

He’s frozen, mouth slightly agape as he processes your confession. His head tilts to the side slightly, eyes darker than usual as he asks, “You’ve been having lustful thoughts about… me?”

You nod, cheeks tinged pink. “When you’re in the pulpit - I try to focus, I really do, but my mind wanders to… other things.” 

You should be embarrassed, should be ashamed of admitting something so unbecoming. But the comfort of this being God’s plan washes away any ill regards you have about the situation; this is what He has always intended. 

“Other things?” He echoes, eyes focused on you intensely. His voice is hushed, only loud enough for the two of you to hear. “Like what?”

Your blush deepens at his inquiry. “Well, it’s more of a feeling than an exact thought…”

He’s leaning forward now, all but hanging over his desk at your words. He looks hungry, you realize suddenly; Like he’d seen firsthand the famine in Canaan, pupils blown wide, mouth open, breathing slowly. “A feeling?” He prompts.

Nodding, you find yourself leaning forward too, almost desperate to close the gap between you both. You can feel the dust in the air, hear the quiet electric hum of his old desktop computer. Your breath is coming too loudly, it ricochets off the walls around you both. “It feels like an ache.” You explain, sounding hoarse. “It feels like an emptiness.” 

He takes a shaky breath, pushing himself back from his desk in a controlled motion. Standing up, he makes his way around the desk to stand in front of you, one of his calloused hands guiding your chin up to look at him. 

“Do you want me to help you - with the emptiness? The ache?” He questions, eyes boring into yours. 

The thought of it makes your thighs clench together, and the feeling is so delicious that you almost vocalize it. Your mouth is dry, but you feel wetness gathering in your cotton panties already. You almost forget to respond, nodding and breathing out, “Yes, please.”

“Always so well-mannered.” He praises, making you feel warm. You would do just about anything for him to keep going.

The hand on your jaw guides you upward until you’re standing in front of him. You’re not touching, but you can feel the heat emanating from his body, feel the way the air vibrates between you. His eyes travel down to your lips, back up to your eyes, then down to your lips again. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy, lillis?” He asks, eyes half-lidded and voice quiet.

You shake your head, a tiny movement. “No.” You pause, then decide to continue. “I wanted to save myself.”

His inhale is sharp, deep. “Such a good girl.” The words light a fire in your belly, and the familiar gnawing is back, worse than ever before. You shift on your feet, subconsciously searching for any kind of friction. He picks up on the movement. 

“Do you feel empty, now? Are you desolate?” You can feel where his breath hits your face. If you tilted your head right, your lips would meet. The clothes you’re wearing feel itchy - too tight, too rough.  

You can’t speak, so you nod “yes.” His eyes run down your figure, back up again to your lips. 

“Show me where.” Is his only command. You can’t read his expression fully, features arranged into careful neutrality. The spark in his eyes seemed to hint at desperation, though.

Your face is probably the color of a sun-ripened tomato, but you do as he says, grabbing his free hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingers curl up through your skirt, cupping your mound. Your eyelids flutter shut at the contact, hands coming up to rest against his chest to steady yourself. Heartbeat racing, you don’t think there could be anything better than the feeling of what’s happening right now.

“Here? Is this where you feel empty?” His lips move against your cheek, breath fanning across your ear, making you shiver.

You blink several times, trying to clear your head. “Joakim, please.” Is all you can muster, fingers gripping at his shirt. 

You can feel him sag against you as his lips crash into yours. You’re not completely sure of what to do, allowing him to guide your lips open, licking into your mouth. You hear yourself groaning into the kiss, crowding impossibly closer until your bodies are pressed against each other fully. 

He breaks the embrace to place wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck. The feeling is euphoric, making your hips buck into his without conscious decision.

Hands run down your sides, coming up again underneath your dress skirt to grip at the backs of your thighs, yanking you forward with such force that you almost topple over. His left hand is at your back in an instant, holding you steady before unzipping the back of your dress in a swift motion. 

The material pools around your front, hanging loosely until you pry it off, happy to be rid of the too-rough fabric at last. His lips are back on yours in an instant, one hand gripping the back of your neck while the other kneads the flesh of your breast through your bra. 

You outright moan at the feeling, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as your mouth opens to let the sound out. He works a knee between your legs, rubbing the meaty flesh of his thigh against your core in such a way that has you seeing spots in your vision. Fingers curling into claws where they grip onto his shoulders, you grind down onto his leg, an animalistic snarl escaping you as you do so. 

You know this feeling; Though it’s a sin to give into lust, you’ve made yourself climax before, silently, long after everyone had laid down to rest at night. This is so much more, though - you feel as though someone has soaked you in gasoline and laid a lit match to your flesh. Nothing could have torn you from the carnal desire you felt, being entwined with Joakim like this. You want to take turns ripping each other apart, severing limbs and gluing them back together until you have both been remade in His image. You want to bite and gnaw and lick until you taste blood, to soothe the worried skin with soft whispers and softer hands. Dragged to Hell and back, nailed to a cross and left to rot, rising from the dead with such vigor that Lazarus would envy you - you wanted it all, so long as this moment didn’t end.

“Joakim - I, I -” You choke out, eyes focusing on his, foreheads pressed together.

“Good girl, give it to me, everything you’ve got.” He urged you, the hand on your neck coming down against your hip, ushering your pelvis against his thigh. 

Burying your head in his chest, you climax with a wanton moan, body shuddering through the shockwaves of it. Your breathing is labored, vision blurry from clenching your eyes shut so tightly.

He’s gently prying you off his leg then, maneuvering your positions until you find yourself face-down on his desk. Using a knee, he nudges your knees apart until he fits comfortably between them. The new angle has you feeling vulnerable, visible, licentious. 

You don’t have time to dwell on the feeling, because suddenly his fingers are playing with your folds through your ruined panties. Your knees almost buckle at the stimulation, so sensitive it almost hurts. Gripping the other side of the desk to hold yourself upright, you do your very best to stay still as he explores your body. 

Two fingers hook into the side of your panties, moving them to the side. You know he can see everything like this, and while part of you is screaming at the debauchery of it, another, louder part of you hopes he likes what he sees. You’re fighting the urge to sneak a glance at him when the two fingers that moved your panties aside are thrust deep into your core. 

You let out a howl that could rival a rabid dog, nails scraping against the wooden laminate of the desk as your hands clench into fists. He’s curling his fingers inside you slowly, and you can feel every millimeter of it. A string of drool escapes your open mouth, cascading down into a puddle on a stack of prayer requests from this morning’s sermon. 

“That’s it, so good, just take it, lillis.” He murmurs, fingers still unfurling deep inside you. 

You don’t know that you can do anything but take it. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, taking up twice as much space as you’re used to. You feel wonderfully full, the emptiness inside you finally satiated.

But then he’s pulling them out, and you almost sob at the loss of it. You could feel your hole clenching on nothing, throbbing with want; Whether you enjoy it or not, you aren’t even sure. 

You hear a zipper, then the sound of something metallic hitting the carpet. When you turn your neck to see what’s happening, you’re met with the sight of Joakim’s full manhood on display. 

You’ve never seen a man naked before. There were pictures, shown to you unwillingly by the cruel boys who called you a “Bible-thumper” in school, but this is entirely different.

Joakim is… prettier, you think is the right word. His tip is pink, almost red, and wet-looking in the glow of the fluorescent office lights. Veins bulge along the length, throbbing at you angrily as if to mock the throbbing happening within you. It’s big, you realize suddenly. You can’t begin to fathom how it’s going to fit inside you, when his fingers alone made you feel so full already.

A hand is placed at the back of your neck, holding you flat in place. The weight is reassuring, grounding in its pressure as you’re pressed fully against the desk, the cool laminate a welcome reprieve from the fever burning in your skin. You feel him press his tip against your folds, running it through the slickness there, before slowly pushing past your threshold. 

“It hurts.” Is the first thing you whine, legs already trembling. It does hurt - in a sharp way, like stretching to reach your toes first thing in the morning. 

You gasp as he leans over, thrusting further into you as he whispers in your ear. “Shh, I know. It’s the price we must pay for our sin.” His murmur relaxes you a bit, reassures you of what you’re doing. Joakim would not lead you astray; God had spoken to him, given him fortitude in the last months. This was His plan.

The stretch continues as he slowly slides further into you, until your bodies are joined completely. You’re panting, open-mouthed as he fills you entirely. Your toes are barely brushing against the ground from how far he’s pushed you into the desk, corners digging into your hips sharply. 

A soothing hand runs up and down your spine, unraveling the muscles that have been pulled taut with anticipation. Your breathing slows, body easing around the intrusion until only the sensation of fullness remains.

Joakim pulls back then, a slow movement that has you inhaling harshly as he drags along your inner walls. Your mouth goes to ask him what he’s doing, when he slams back into you, cutting off your train of thought in favor of gargling on your breath. 

“Oh my God,” You keen, eyes so wide they might bulge out of your head altogether. 

A jarring slap lands against your backside, stinging skin left in its wake. “Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.” Joakim rasps, sounding as out of breath as you do. 

He pulls back again, only to crash back into you a half-second later. The force of it jolts you, making you wail as your hands reach out for something, anything to hold onto. Documents and envelopes fly onto the floor in your frenzy, looking as haphazard as you feel. 

He continues at an unrelenting pace, hand still firmly gripping the base of your neck from behind. You know you’re being loud; A distant part of you even registers that, given the circumstances, you should probably be much, much quieter. You can’t bring yourself to care, though, an endless chant of Joakim’s name falling from your lips as you do what you can to grind back into him.

The hand leaves your neck, coming down to grab onto your hip while his other hand mirrors the action. Your pelvis is lifted off the desk, thrusts never even pausing as the new angle drives him deeper into you. Tears spring in your eyes from the overstimulation, having climaxed only a few short minutes ago. 

This is absolution, You think. Being tangled together, conjoined like this - There is no fear of sin, no guilt at succumbing to the lust-filled desires of the flesh. As Joakim plunges himself into you, over and over, you find yourself almost dizzy with relief at the weight lifted off your shoulders, the panic of condemnation a distant memory. 

His arm wraps around the front of your hips, holding you in place, as his free hand tangles into your hair, yanking your head towards him. 

“Say the Lord’s prayer.” He groans in your ear, breath hot and sticky. “Beg for His forgiveness. ‘Our Father-’”

“‘-Who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.” You whimper, the words slipping off your tongue like muscle memory as your body is rocked back and forth by his thrusts. “‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth-” Your voice is cut off by your own gasp as he reaches something in you that you’ve never felt before. Knees shaking, you dig your fingers deeper into the mess of papers surrounding you to try and stabilize yourself. 

“Keep going. ‘On Earth, as it is in Heaven.’” He urges, grip tightening on you. 

“‘Give us today our daily bread,’” You continue, moaning pitifully as he drives into that same spot again. “‘And forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.’”

Tears stream freely down your cheeks now, a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation driving you mad. Joakim is mouthing at the junction of your neck and shoulder, tongue brushing over a spot that makes you shiver into him. A fire is building in your belly, lapping at the bottom of your throat as you move closer and closer to climax. 

“‘L-lead us not into temp- temptation,’” You stutter, mind hazy with want. “‘But d-deliver us from evil.’”

Joakim’s voice is back in your ear. “‘For thine is the Kingdom,” A harsh thrust, “‘The Power,” Another thrust, “And the Glory forever.’” 

The fire burns so hot that it rips the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Your eyes struggle to stay open, fluttering closed each time he rams into you. A particularly harsh pull of your hair reminds you that he is waiting for your response.

“Amen.” You whisper, vision going white as you climax, body twitching forcefully in his arms. His hips stutter once before he buries himself inside you, spilling his seed into you as he does. 

Whether you lay there for seconds or days, you don’t know. Eventually, Joakim pulls out, a string of his release coming with him, rolling down the inside of your thighs. You whimper at the loss, still too sensitive to move. 

“C’mon, käresta, we need to get you dressed. Your mother will wonder where you are.” His voice is gentle behind you, hand rubbing against your lower back to rouse you. 

Your joints pop in protest as you try to push yourself up off the desk. The room is a mess of papers and scattered writing utensils, your dress nothing more than a rumpled pile of cloth on the ground. 

You slip it over your head gingerly, every muscle in your body somehow sore. Joakim zips up the garment for you, running his hands over your clothed back, as if to smooth the wrinkles. 

Turning to face him, you’re met with a soft pair of lips to your forehead, dark hair brushing against your cheeks. The kiss makes you feel brave as you ask, “Joakim?”

His eyes are warm as he gazes down at you, his fingers coming up to comb through your tangled hair. “Hmm?” Is his response as he works out a particularly knotted strand.

You flutter your eyelashes, a move that feels foreign, but somehow right. Looking up at him demurely, you ask, “Will you be leading tonight’s Bible study?”

[chronicowboy]

Its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet for whole shifts. Some days, its just a bad day. One where all the work Eddie has done to get better can only keep him trudging forward step by heavy step. One where all his demons come back at once and try to drag him down. One where Eddie is too busy fighting old habits to join in on the jokes and banter. They've all gotten good at dealing with these days - Buck especially, but that's no surprise when he was there for The Worst Days.

So, its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet, but there's a simmering despair to Eddie's silence today that has Bobby's hackles rising. Its not his usual listless, fatigued quiet. Its a heavy, burdensome quiet. Bobby can't stand it, so he waits until the rest of the team trudge off to the bunks before he corners Eddie in the lounge with two cups of tea.

"You're not gonna let me escape are you?" Eddie sighs, collapsing back against the couch he'd tried to jump up from.

"I'm not holding you hostage," Bobby offers him one of the mugs with a smile, "I'm simply gently suggesting that you talk to someone. And I happen to be right here."

"Yeah." Eddie sighs again, eyes drifting down to the steaming surface of his tea. "What do you think I should talk to someone about?"

"Whatever it is that has you like this." Bobby gestures at him kindly. "You seem heavier."

He doesn't say it, but Eddie looks a lot like he did when Buck was in his coma. Bobby can't help but wonder, what with all the Natalia talk, if its because Eddie thinks he's losing him all over again, in a different way.

"Its nothing..." Eddie shakes his head, averts his eyes. "Just something that old lady from the living funeral said to me and Hen. Something my aunt said too."

"What'd they say?" Bobby prompts gently.

"My aunt said that I'm alone," Eddie mumbles. "Marie said that we all die alone. And, recently, I don't know." Another sigh, a hand scrubbed down his face. "Recently, it feels like time is running out and I can't help but think that when it does, its just a lonely death waiting for me at the finish line."

"Eddie, you aren't going to die alone." Bobby aches for him. Buck may be his son, but Bobby's always seen a piece of himself in Eddie. Its why he finds himself here so often, trying to coax Eddie's heart out of its cage. "You know that there are two people who would never, ever let that happen."

Eddie huffs a bitter laugh, eyes landing somewhere far away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

Bobby is mature enough to admit he flounders a little here. All these talks he's had with Eddie, its always felt a bit like speaking to a brick wall. But now, now he thinks Eddie might have finally understood.

"Eddie," Bobby murmurs seriously, seriously enough to have Eddie meeting his eyes, "its never too late. Never."

"Feels like it might be this time, Cap," Eddie chokes out. He glances down at his tea. "I don't want to be alone."

"Love is a risk," Bobby blurts out desperately. He's never met two men who deserve a happy ending more than Buck and Eddie, and, whilst he can't take credit for how far they've come, he feels a blazing pride that their happy endings are to be found in each other. He can't let them miss out. "Love is a terrible, awful risk. Always. Always. Its never easy. It might be in the end. You might look back one day and think that it was all worth it to end up here. But you're in the today, the now, when the love is horrible and painful and the most difficult thing in the world." Eddie looks up at him with tear-filled eyes, and Bobby's heart breaks for him. "Every beat of your heart is like a punch to the stomach, and you think that maybe it would be easier if you'd never felt the love at all."

"No," Eddie interrupts, shaking his head. "No, there's no way I was never going to feel this.. I'd always end up here."

"That's mighty faithful for someone who doesn't believe in the universe," Bobby mumbles.

"I believe in him," Eddie shrugs helplessly.

"Eddie, you haven't lost him." Bobby lays a hand on his shoulder. "He's just out of reach, but you can get to him. You've done it before. Both of you have. You always make it back to each other. That's your deal."

"I don't know how to reach him this time," Eddie confesses breathlessly.

"You have to take the leap, Eddie." Bobby sighs. "Its going to be terrifying, and it might not all fall into place at once. But one day, you'll look back and you'll be so damn glad you jumped."

Eddie bites into his lip as the first tear rolls down his cheek.

"What if he doesn't catch me?"

"Then, he'll pick you up off the floor," Bobby promises with all the conviction he has. Its the one thing he knows with any certainty in this world. "Eddie, whatever happens, you can't lose Buck. Not completely. And things might change. But think of how it could change for the better."

Eddie smiles to himself, a tiny, wobbly, private thing that Bobby's only caught glimpses of when Buck is around.

"So, I just jump?" he asks.

"You jump." Bobby nods. "You jump, and you hope, and you trust that he'll be right there with you."

"That he'll have my back?" Eddie grins ruefully.

"Yeah, trust that he'll have your back," Bobby smiles right back.

They'll be okay.

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART FOUR

i'll feed your innards to the ants before i do that.

you're not here to play with the locals.

question, kill, then move on.

fail her at your peril.

were i not merciful, i would slice the skin clean from your meat.

i am nothing if not merciful.

tell me: why shouldn't i run you through this instant?

you are nothing until i tell you otherwise.

nothing even approaching a useful thought in that skulll.

it costs me nothing to spare your sorry life.

i required your silence and you made me a mockery.

save your anger for the enemies.

i will skewer the jeretic with his own silver sword.

don't trust a word out of her mouth.

you were supposed to rush to my defense.

fat lot of good you are.

she could shoot fireworks out of her backside for all i care.

i don't know what just happened any more than you do.

not my usual quarry, not my usual ally.

your faith is your own concern, not mine.

i didn't think you'd react so pragmatically.

in the future, i expect you to be honest.

as if mingling with a horde of goblins wasn't bad enough.

let's do what we have to, then get out of here.

let's not linger in this place any more than necessary.

pain without purpose is a terrible thing.

you bore the pain like a true believer.

i don't think i have the stomach for this.

this place was supposed to be abandoned.

a joy to see a familiar face in such a precarious setting.

a fine mess you landed yourself in.

how better to learn the ways of a people than to live among them.

one should cherish all of nature's bounty, but goblin guts are quite far down the list.

you're a true friend of nature, or perhaps a lunatic.

it's unbecoming to demand honorifics from the one who saved my hide.

you weren't speaking lightly when you said you needed help.

that doesn't mean i can't help.

you have my sincere sympathies.

the magic used is beyond me. it's either not of this world, or so ancient as to be lost to even nature's memory.

the natural order must be protected.

there's no order anymore, only chaos.

chaos is welcome in doses.

i'm practically an expert.

you're either an excellent storyteller or you've experiences something quite exceptional.

i'd be irresponsible not to debunk such a strange claim.

i cannot trust my own mind.

there is great potential within you.

you're looking for solutions in the wrong places.

if we work together, we may turn this around.

until it is found, i will take something precious from you every hour that passes.

silence now, or i will silence you forever.

he's been resilient, but he'll talk.

i will have an explanation, or your head.

i do not wish to spill blood here.

come daylight, we will find a place to end this.

you can accept you're wrong, or we'll be rid of you permanently.

you had every chance to look the other way.

you chose this.

don't expect to be mourned.

she's a liability.

thieves aren't afforded such luxuries.

loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won't you?

imagine what we might achieve if we channeled some of that hostility back at our real foes instead of each other.

[catsoupki]

之間的距離 / thebeautyliesinitsbriefness (bakugou x reader)

Summary: like many, Bakugou can only say "I love you" when you're no longer there.

Warnings: angst, yeah, originally wrote this for sanemi but ... oh well! pretend you dont see any plot holes

wc: 1.9k

Katsuki values strength, independence. He has never given crying a mere chance of coexisting in his headspace along with other less trivial affairs because tears don’t bring people back from the Earth. He won’t admit but he values optimism: to see the bright in the dark. Even he himself knew just how bleak of a person he was, a buzzkill and a party-pooper, in Ochako’s words. He wanted his crowd to be vehemently bright, he wanted them to have the ability to force him to see, and recognize the remaining half cup of water. 

You wince again, wound sterilisation was definitely your least favourite part about being a hero, nobody cared to warn you about this side of the job. The dabs on the open cut were quite aggressive, but you paid them no mind, not expecting any less from the second hero of Japan. 

Katsuki’s least favourite part to being a hero was needing to aid his comrades in wound irrigation. Nobody mentioned anything about going on missions together, much less taking care of each other. 

‘Tch, shut up, you can behead villains while looking into their eyes but not withstand ten seconds of stinging?’ 

You laughed, once again not taking offence to his rather belligerent diction— one of the reasons why you were sent to accompany Bakugou on this mission. Madam President, in good faith, believed in your potential, who also trusted Bakugou in bringing it out. She had also heard enough people talk about the way you were able to work well, or at least, better than others, with the fellow hero, so you were quite literally the only suitable option. 

With the cotton pad holding the gauze in place, your meticulous torture finally wrapped up, your ebullient Thank you! was met with dead air, as Bakugou had long left the room since the second he was done. 

With his back towards you, you can only presume the slight shake of his head to just be collateral of some things along the grumbled lines of ‘Stupid idiot..’

And you weren’t far off either. But, in lieu of cursing you with true malicious intention, he was in fact cursing at himself, for letting you, 'Stupid Idiot', crack his seamless façade of abrasivity:

His eyes widened with panic, what kind of reckless bastard would do that?! You had egregiously jumped in front of a few civilians that were shaken up by the villain you two were facing off. Stuck with fear, they stayed, and caused even more blood to be shredded. 

The sharp talons of the villain cut through your flesh like knives to tofu. The pain was evident on your face, brows crinkled, tears from your eyes threatening to spill. Your hand still gripped the handle of your weapon, making possibly the wisest decision you have made yet, you sliced the villain’s hand right off to prevent it from corroding your bones. 

Collapsing onto the dirt ground with a harsh thud, the civilians wept even harder out of guilt at the sight of your weak and damaged body, but you did so without a breath of complaint, for protecting the lives of idiots was your job. 

The villain, who regrew his hand with the help of his quirk, sat with an arrogant smirk in front of you, shamelessly meandering over your body, practically undressing you with his eyes. He would not know the absolute terror that was about to rain down on him until it was far too late. 

Diabolical beings. 

With an irate grunt, Bakugou switched to an offensive stance. In tandem, the crackling of his palm announced that he was an explosion ticking to blow. He let out a breath, along with all the pent up worry and frustration in him, a new found determination flashes across his countenance, the corners of his lips twitched. The way he held himself was different, filled with courage you had unknowingly given him. Motivation. His smirk was belligerent as always, eyes shining with something that would have made you blush if you were cognitive. 

Katsuki was going to make him pay; that villain would not see another sunrise after this, for protecting you, the utterly most insane and idiotic woman he ever had the pleasure of meeting, was his duty. 

Looking back, even his young and angry and ignorant self had known, long, that he had fallen in love. A mosaic of everything he had ever hated, you were. Yet somehow, you turned out to be something he liked. Loved. He was too young to know what love is, but not too young to know that it’s blood that’s rushing up his cheeks. Not too young to see the curvature of your smile and your nose and your stubborn brows to feel like summer will be forever. Not too young to know that life would be worse if he hadn’t met you. When he is not with you, he’s stifled and awkward and mean and, unable to tell you all of these things.

Everything about you was intoxicating. Bakugou wasn’t the one for mead; any sort of alcohol or drugs, in his opinion, only hindered how well he could do his job. But you, you were a toxin he could not live without. Sans you, he’d rather die. 

He wanted you. He wanted you so badly. Not in a dissolute way, you were too pure of an angel to mar (at least in his eyes).

He wanted you, in the sense that only he would be looked at by you in such a revered manner. And the spot in his heart was reserved for you, and you alone, a throne if you will. He wanted you, to him only. He wanted your eyes, your touch, your stupid rambles, all of it.

He was also a violent person, he knew his rough edges drew blood when people of delicate skin came too close. Skin who has never met slaughter, seen tragedy. Softness that has never come across the unjust of the world, the villainy. 

His legs were close to collapsing. He had lost count however many laps he ran. Sweat dripped along his forehead as he continued on his umpteenth round. He ran, and ran, and the sole purpose was to collapse. Maybe fill his body up with utmost dopamine shots, like he was high or something, so the unending doubtful questions in his mind would leave him alone. ‘Fill your body up with endless endorphins’ he kept chanting, like a mantra. 

Yet, he never knew he could have such gruesome and macabre thoughts when it concerned you. His hero costume was still stained with your blood, from when you laid dying in his arms, eyes glazed over and lips slightly agape, when All for One had stabbed you in the lung with a tendril. He had just lost All Might, he never thought he’d lose you, too. You were strong, you were persistent, a determined little shit who he had never thought would have to meet her end like this. He didn’t worry for you, and frankly it was why he stuck around you, he need not take care of you. Instead of being another burden on his already filled plate, you helped clear his silver platter; he knew if anyone would survive this, it would have been you, or so he thought. 

The tendril that took you from him was the one that was going to take him from you. You selfish minx, was what he grumbled to himself as your breaths got shallower, sounds of ripping fabric growing from soft to more difficult to ignore as your lungs collapsed in on themselves. You were running out of air, and running out of air fast. 

His salty tears left his face blotchy when they rained down on you like salvation. 

He didn’t know what would have been the proper and appropriate attire to show up in. You were only an equal to him, nothing more and nothing less. Neither of you had such time for nonsense when all of you were dedicated to heroics, when your job was keeping the hearts of thousands of civilians beating, pulse alive. 

He looked at the tombstone engraved with your name, your last legacy, until time calls for the moss and fern to come and erode the delicately carved words away. He wanted to grace the piece of rock with his brutally conditioned knuckles until the iron in his dignified blood, dosed with heavy nitroglycerin, left a permanent scar on your rusting heritage, so maybe then he wouldn’t need to question whether he was there or not.

The world is unfair, he has learnt since the ripe age of fourteen. Talented children with potent quirks born within the wealthiest of families will not know the stink of brothels and peril, men are made unequal, some are fed with silver spoons, and some quirkless. He has made peace with that, he thought. But he was wrong. 

He forgave the world when it stripped him of his comrades, his friends. He thought maybe it was the consequences of his wrongdoings in a past life, a lesson to be learnt; but when he lost you, Gods will have to kneel before the man if they ever think he’d forgive them for doing such a deed. 

He was then, once again, stripped of everything. It didn’t matter whether or not it was a punishment or a piece of Karma he rightfully deserved because he knew for a fact you would never be deserving of anything but love. 

Regardless of your past sins, he was sure you would have redeemed yourself with the way you introduced light into his life. You were good. Plainly, simply, and so utterly good. 

His fingertips grasp onto thin air as he cries, his fist cave on his own calloused palm instead of your tombstone. He finally lets his heart rip as he seemingly, for the first time in two months, recognizes that you are dead. 

His wailing won’t bring your battered bones back together from six feet under. His tears of grief will only water your tomb and foster whatever plant that wants to take home on your resting place. 

He lets out a few heartless laughs, at himself mostly— he has yet again ignored the wisdom God tried to bestow him with, such a rookie mistake has costed him you. Loving aloud never came easy to him as it did after death. The goodbyes, the ‘I’m sorry’s and the ‘I love you’ that stayed stuck in his pharynx never got to see the light of day before it was too late. Izuku. And now you as well; but what could he do? He’ll hold hands tighter, look at their faces longer, so he doesn't lose yet another person in his life from his stubborn, stubborn decisions. 

At first, he wanted to rage at you. At last somebody who had their naivety and innocence stolen and robbed away like he had been was allowed to hold his heart; intricate hands that have seen bloodshed, your breath heavy and warm from maroon responsibility. 

But he couldn’t. How could he?

[madamekaji]

— Does Heiji Shindo hate Abijah Fowler?

Yappathon incoming… Fowdo posting, unsurprising, but mostly focusing on my view of Heiji’s character and “feelings.”

CW • Old man yaoi /j

Then why would he betray him? Why would he attempt to scheme behind his back, and plot his murder? Does this not scream hatred?

No. Rather, I believe it screams survival. I believe it was, in Heiji’s mind, the smartest move to play to ensure that he ended up on top. Though, let’s start from the beginning.

They live together in an oddly culturally blended home for 1600s Japan. And while Fowler has to remain in this castle, as it is- in his words, “his cage”- Heiji is by no means held to this same standard. He can come and go as he pleases, and yet he has his very own furnishings in the castle of the man he claims to despise.

When does this point of contempt get mentioned first, anyways? It is during the tea party with Mizu in 01x03. And why is it mentioned? Once again, survival. It is worth noting that rather than being upfront with such a proposition, he tries to manipulate Mizu out of hunting him- And Fowler- down with bribes of great wealth and a strong title. Though, when this offer does not work- as I am sure he had hoped it would- he is then forced to come up with another plan. And what better way than to play off of then someone’s feelings?

Mizu hates Fowler, this much is obvious. Heiji is trapped down in a canyon with two well trained and skilled fighters, and while he does have archers hidden in the cliff face around them, there is surely no way that they can fire their arrows without either him being killed before they even get the chance, or him being killed by the barrage of arrows from above. He realizes that he can’t influence this impending storm with commerce, so he instead chooses the next best thing, and attempts to align himself with Mizu, believing that this would earn him her favor.

Once inquired why he wants Fowler dead, his response is that it is personal. And once further inquired, he states that his reasons are his own. Then, there is a pause; and after the pause, he contradicts his original statement by saying “no.. no, they’re not.” Every one of his reasons for “hating” Abijah are vague in nature and enunciated with far too much drama, as if he is trying to convince Mizu that he was being truthful. While I would never expect someone such as Heiji to pour his heart and soul out to… Anyone, it is interesting to note that he can’t seem to come up with any real reason as to wishing him killed.

His promises are flimsy. He can’t commit to the idea of genuinely helping Mizu, and it’s apparent. Once questioned by Taigen about what would happen once Mizu kills Fowler, all Heiji can muster is that he can guarantee “her safety to a blades length of Fowler’s neck.” He wipes his hands together indicate that business is done, before walking away. It is notable, that from Taigen inquiring on, Heiji begins to become more agitated; indicating that he most likely never intended for Mizu to leave the castle. If he even would somehow slip Mizu through all 8 levels of security to get to where Fowler was, I do truly believe Heiji expected Fowler to kill her. However, he needs her to believe that he is on her side; because if she doesn’t, it very well could be his head.

Maybe if he had stuck with his original statement- “My reasons are my own”- it could have been believable. Maybe, if Mizu had not approached him and asked the question that essentially sealed his fate, things could have worked out for him. Maybe, if he didn’t continue to wear the flower Abijah had pinned oh so lovingly to his robe, his lie wouldn’t have been so obviously seen though.

If Heiji truly hated Abijah he wouldn’t be living in his castle, wearing his flowers, eating at his dining table and having any level of faith in his overarching plans. If Heiji hated Abijah, surely his lip would curl upon being so up close and personal with “That Stink.” If Heiji hated Abijah, surely some level of distaste for his explosive tantrums and overtly offensive.. Everything, would put him off. Heiji has not been shy to complain, to express agitation and distaste. Surely, if he truthfully hated Abijah, he wouldn’t have put himself on the line for something that- ultimately- had nothing to do with him. He didn’t hate Abijah, and it cost him his arm. It almost costed him his life.

So now we ask the question again. Why does Heiji betray Abijah?

Understandably, his faith in Abijah is flimsy. Nothing about a human trafficking murderous drug lord with a sick kick for sadomasochistic tendencies screams trustworthy. Though while he was not off put by the things he should have been- if anything, probably finding solidarity with it- he was rattled by the fact that his relationship with this man had nearly killed him. And while I definitely think the illusion of being untouchable shattering right in front of him was the final straw, It is worth looking at who Heiji is as a person.

He is self serving, weasly, charismatic, cunning and a complete and total control freak. And while he isn’t as obvious about it as Fowler is, it is displayed multiple times in the show. When he feels as if he is not being listened to, he responds explosively, and being foolish enough to grab the arm of an armed stranger while trying to force them into a barrel is a pretty good example of how reason is lost whenever he begins to panic.

Fowler is not ideal or trustworthy. And while he is.. Fond of him, so to speak, he doesn’t mean much more to him other than an avenue to success, with bonus perks like flattering attention.

Now this is where we start to get into speculation.

Heiji is dependent on Abijah for success, to attain his goal. Without his European asset smuggling in trump cards, there would be no way to overthrow the shogunate; at least nothing someone like Heiji could string together on his own. Abijah, for years, made him richer than imaginable and essentially promised him the world and more. And Heiji lived lavishly in luxury and comfort, anxiously anticipating his future role as the Shogun. Though why would he ever put all of his faith into a man who thinks just as he does?

I think Heiji believed that their relationship was only a transactional one (in a way he is most definitely right) and that Abijah saw him just as he saw Abijah: an Asset. Why would such a domineering and controlling man ever share such power? He’s a remorseless killer, Heiji has seen what he is capable of. He never truly knows if he’s safe with Fowler because he is incapable of trusting him, and that is safest. For him, it was kill or be killed. And the closer to their metaphorical D-Day, the more this realization dawns on Heiji. Their time together is running up.

But even if Fowler didn’t kill Heiji when his usefulness expired, surely someone would. To have a foreigner in such a position of power would be certain to cause revolts, and their siege of the shogunate would surely inspire many. Even if he didn’t die in some coup, his connection with such a controversial face would surely put a target on his back. So with the combination of (fair) paranoia and of being scorned, as well as a lack of any real emotional connection in the first place, it would be easy to turn on him so quickly.

Then why would he want to kill him? He specifies in his letter to Chiba that he would have the pleasure of killing Fowler himself.

Personally, I think it is because he believes that he is the only one who should be able to. Their relationship, however you wish to view it, runs deep and is as personal as someone with the emotional capacity of a grape can get. They have been up each other’s asses for AT LEAST ten years, possibly longer. Heiji is just as sadistic as Fowler is, and watching the life drain from those green eyes is probably something he has fantasized of for a long time. No one else deserves such a privilege other them him.

Does Heiji Love Abijah? No, he’s incapable. But does he hate him? No. Abijah is a means to an end. An interesting and attractive (to him) means to an end, an entertaining one, but at the end of it all he was just a chance that Heiji took to actually become something more then what he was, a pathetic salesman.

Unfortunately for him, he got to learn the hard way that he was never the one in control. Fortunately (?) for him, Abijah decided to give him another chance. And Heiji learned very quickly to not make a mistake like that again.

[theflyindutchwoman]

I think they’ve made Lucy look so stupid. It annoys me so much cause she was my favorite. Isabel, Noah, Nyla have allllll told Lucy UC work destroys your personal life yet Lucy is running around like she’s the exception. She’s not. It drives me nuts.

I'm not sure if you just needed to vent or if you wanted me to answer… But I respectfully disagree. I get not liking this storyline and how frustrating it can be or even how out of character it might seem. That's perfectly fine. But I personally enjoy watching this journey. While I do believe that in the long term, UC is probably not going to be a good fit for her and the life that she desires, I love watching Lucy finding herself and trying to figure out a way to have the career AND life that she wants.

Let's get back to why Lucy became a cop in the first place. I joined the Academy on a whim. I knew that my parents would hate it. But I had no idea how much I would love it. Being a cop is the first thing I've ever been serious about. (1.04) I guess I've been adrift since college, trying on different hats and different personalities, and nothing's felt right, until -- until this. But I don't think the time spent trying to find myself was wasted. You know, everything I've done so far, the profound and the foolish, has prepared me to become a police officer so that I can protect those who need it the most and from those who would do them harm. (3.10)

By her own admission, she spent years trying to find her place, to find a job where she could feel fulfilled… So now that she found it, is it that hard to believe that she would do everything in her power to follow through? I know that she is talking about being a cop in general here and not UC. But at the moment, UC is what she wants to do… and honestly, she owes it to herself to try. Maybe she won't like it. Maybe she'll decide that it is not for her after all. But this is something she has to try for herself and decide for herself. Not because others have previously failed or because others told her to do something else - which is what her parents have been trying to do from the beginning by the way. Hearing other people's stories are not the same as living that experience yourself. Sometimes you need to learn first hand. There's nothing wrong with that. She may be 30 years old, but she is still at the beginning of her career. She is still finding herself and exploring all avenues. As she should.

"Isabel, Noah, Nyla have allllll told Lucy UC work destroys your personal life" All true. And yet, she is actively supported by people whose very own lives were destroyed by undercover work. Nyla has been mentoring her from the beginning. The same Nyla who teaches classes on how to learn from past mistakes. Who told Lucy on their first shift together to be better than her. And what about Tim? He obviously believes that she is different (his words), that this could have a better ending. Otherwise he wouldn't have bothered taking that leap of faith. And more than Lucy herself, he knew exactly what he was getting himself into. Despite his past and own issues, he has been nothing but supportive and encouraging since she graduated. Did he underestimate the toll it would take on him? Probably. Is he hiding his own feelings on the matter? Most definitely. But the fact remains that he still chooses to believe that they can make it work. It's no coincidence that the two main characters who had their personal lives so negatively impacted by UC work, are also the ones actively encouraging Lucy. I strongly believe that you are not bound by other people's mistakes and failures. Learn from it but don't stop doing something because other people failed. And that's what Lucy is trying to do.

"Yet Lucy is running around like she’s the exception." Is she, though? So far, ever since s4, she hasn't been in any rush to do undercover work. The only times she was pushing for a UC op, was when she volunteered Tim as a hitman and as Jake. Which is hilarious when you think about it. Since we mentioned Noah, here's what he said on the topic : she could have done more missions. Now, granted, unlike him, she is still a P2 so that might hinder her. It's entirely possible that she didn't get more opportunities. But when she got one, like in 5.07, she was still being cautious at first. And in 5.21, she didn't hesitate to call off the operation at the end. Not only that, but every time she meets someone who has done UC, she jumps on the occasion to ask them for their advices, for their different perspectives. And every time, those advices ended up with a 'maybe it can be different for you'. She is actually trying to learn from others so she can avoid making the same errors. That's not the act of someone who thinks she is better than everyone. Or who thinks she knows better. If anything, she seems to be taking her time : this has been her arc since s3. Even when she got accepted to the UC Academy, she went to see Nyla for advices. Sure, she was looking for some sort of absolution, but it's still telling that she went to her first.

"She’s not." How do we know she won't be the exception? Why do we immediately assume that she can't succeed when the premise of the show is about a 40+ years old man who decided to become a cop and succeeded? Everyone was telling Nolan he was stupid and naive too. And yet, here we are. So why Lucy couldn't be the exception as well? To show that there may be a way? In the end, it's a story. The writers can choose the ending they want.

Do I believe she would love the full undercover lifestyle? No. Not for long missions. I can't see her enjoying leaving her life and the people she loves behind… leaving herself behind. Not for a year. And not without taking its toll on her. But that doesn't mean I find her stupid for wanting to try out anyway. That's just my opinion though. Also, a career in undercover ops doesn't automatically mean going under. She could be a case officer. She could train new agents. She could do short(ish) missions. All of this could be a really good alternative for her.

Side note : I didn't touch on the logistics of long term undercover work on the show (or her being outed on a documentary) because, at the end of the day, no matter how complicated it could be, if the writers want her to do UC, they'll find a way. I just wanted to focus on Lucy's journey.

[brucebocchi]

Ranking every new anime I watched in 2023, Pt. 3: #10-6

hey, i just started a ko-fi for my writing and possible other creative outlets. this post will also be available there, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i'm currently between jobs. the tumblr version of part 1 can be found here and part 2 here.

I didn't mean to drag this out quite so much, but I ended up writing a TON for the top 10, so for the sake of everyone's attention spans (and so I can buy some time to finish my top two) I broke it up into two more posts.

​ALSO! I've embedded a link to each show's OP in the title of each entry. I wanted to give more of a visual element to each show outside of the header images, plus there have been some incredible OPs this year. I've gone back and edited them into the prior posts as well.

10. Trigun Stampede

It’s funny, I had fond memories of watching Trigun on Adult Swim in my adolescence, to the point where I used to count it among my all-time favorite anime for a while, but I didn't realize until this year that I hadn't actually sat down and watched it from beginning to end. It’s honestly a very uneven watch, and it’s clearly split into two parts: The first, a dieselpunk western revolving around a mysterious goofball with a big-ass gun and a bounty on his head, and the second a slightly more somber revenge quest as he is forced to survive his way past a rogues gallery while vowing not to take any lives. Still, it was a hit among western anime fans for a reason, and it was formative to me even back when I thought anime was kinda cringe.

Trigun Stampede is far from a faithful reinterpretation of Yasuhiro Nightow’s manga nor of the original Madhouse production. Meryl Stryfe is no longer a jaded veteran insurance adjuster but a much younger muckraking journalist. She’s no longer tailed by the gentle giantess Milly Thompson, but rather following her senpai, the gruff, bleary-eyed Roberto De Niro (the names in Trigun have always rocked). Nicholas D. Wolfwood isn’t an affable priest with a dark past; he’s all dark past now. And Vash the Stampede, now rocking a fuckboy undercut, is less of a mercurial wisecracker with a soft side and more of a reluctant gunman freaking it in a sensitive style. 

Stampede wastes no time differentiating itself from any previous version of Trigun. Vash’s history is no longer a mystery waiting to be uncovered; it’s a driving factor of the plot as his brother Knives seeks revenge on humankind for their use and exploitation of “plants,” an alien race to which the two seem to be connected, as an energy source. This was always an element of the original anime that I felt went unexplored, so it was fascinating to see Stampede dive right in. It’s a great introduction to the story for people who haven’t seen the original, and full of unexpected turns for existing fans. It’s still built on the bones of Trigun as we know it, but it is very much its own thing. 

People made a lot of hay about Vash’s new appearance, but I think it works. The huge pleather trench coat, spiky flat-top, and tiny glasses remain an iconic 90s design, but I believe the 90s is where it belongs. This take on Vash is just as capable but much more self-effacing, tortured, and averse to violence. This is a younger Vash, and it’s clear that his history with Knives is a much fresher wound, rather than the dull, nagging ache in the original. This is a gentler (but no less talented) Vash, so I think the softboy look suits him this time around.

I also spent most of the season quietly insisting to myself that the original version of Meryl is much better (and cuter) than the Stampede variant, and I still stand by that, but the updated version definitely grew on me. I mean, just look at that hat. But it’s clear from the jump that Stampede’s first season is very early in this version of the Trigun story (you may notice that the bounty on Vash’s head is much, much less than the famous 60 billion double-dollars), and Meryl has some growing to do (and presumably a whole lot of professional frustration) before she becomes something like the one we knew and loved around the turn of the 21st Century.

I’m still yet to watch Beastars, but it’s immediately apparent why Studio Orange was entrusted with the Trigun IP. This show looks incredible. This is some of the best CG animation I’ve ever seen outside of a Pixar or Spider-Verse movie. Characters are amazingly expressive and oscillate between naturalistic, weighty movement and cartoony flailing. Action scenes are inventive and dynamic and stand up to even the wildest sakuga. And yet, it still looks like an anime. It still retains the classic 24fps look and even occasionally trades in the CGI for hand-drawn animation for effect. We are long past the botched Berserk revival: This is what CGI anime should look like.

It’s plainly obvious that Trigun has always carried influences from landmark western media like Mad Max and Dune (not to mention Fist of the North Star, but that one always wore its Mad Max influence on its sleeve), so it’s been an unexpected delight to see those influences take a new shape now that both franchises have seen major updates since the last iteration of Trigun went off the air. For all of the alien technology and technicolor glowing lights, Trigun takes place entirely in a desert setting, and it’s impossible to see these chase scenes and not immediately think of Fury Road, or halfway expect to see Villanueve’s take on the Fremen popping out of the dust clouds. 

Stampede is a very welcome entry to a franchise long believed to be well and truly over, and the more eyeballs on Trigun, the better. It’s evident by the end of this season that this take on the story is only just beginning, and it has already taken unexpected departures from the story as we already knew it. I can’t wait to see where it goes from here, but that’s mostly because we have confirmation that Milly will be in the next season. It can’t get here quickly enough.

9. Insomniacs After School

I watched and read a frankly absurd amount of romance-centric anime and manga this year, especially of the slice-of-life variety, to the point where even by the early summer I thought I'd had my fill. I'm overjoyed to say that Insomniacs After School proved me dead wrong.

What a treat this was. It's a simple enough premise: A boy with insomnia is sent on an errand to his high school’s abandoned observatory, where he finds a classmate sleeping because she suffers from insomnia as well. They quickly find out that the observatory is a perfectly quiet environment for the both of them, and that they actually get restful sleep around one another. In order to get away with making use of the area, they resurrect the school’s astronomy club and find a genuine love for astrophotography and, you guessed it, one another.

You couldn’t have picked a more apt studio to adapt this work than Liden Films. Call of the Night made a splash last year for its saturated, vibey nightscapes, and Insomniacs’ gorgeous astral visuals carry that mantle. The nighttime backdrops of the quiet suburbs, wide-open beaches, and lush countryside are nothing short of stunning, and Isaki’s adolescent wonder at the world’s hidden beauties reminded me, and I do not say this lightly, of something Miyazaki would’ve animated.

On a couple of occasions this year, I’ve been able to step back from an anime, take a breath, and simply say “That was beautiful.” Insomniacs gave me one such occasion. Even putting the visuals aside, the story itself is lovely and would have made this the feel-good anime of the year, if not for the next entry on this ranking. I would have more to say, but Insomniacs After School speaks for itself. Give it a shot.

8. Skip and Loafer

There are so many standalone adjectives I could use to describe this one, and most of them are ones that would normally make me want to impulsively run the other way like “comfy,” “feel-good,” “wholesome,” what have you, but I think the most comprehensively I can boil it down to a single word is “lovely.” Everything about it just gives you the warm fuzzies, and almost makes me think that the “I want more stories with no conflict” dorks might actually be onto something.

It’s a simple one: Mitsumi, a dorky teenage go-getter with her entire life planned out, moves to Tokyo from her no-horse beach town to attend one of the country’s best prep schools, but much like everyone who played the first two hours of Persona 5, she quickly gets lost in Shibuya’s subway station on the first day of school. She runs into Sousuke Shima, a laid-back boy from the same school who’s also running late, because that’s, like, what he does, and manages to wrangle him into running to school with her.

Mitsumi quickly draws attention from her classmates, not only from delivering a speech as the incoming class representative (and subsequently barfing all over her teacher), but because she inadvertently made fast friends with the hottest, most popular first-year in the school. This attracts the attention of social climbers and jealous hangers-on, but Mitsumi hardly notices. She’s used to knowing everyone in her school back home, so she wastes no time reaching out and seeing what’s up with anyone who’ll give her the time of day.

A lot of Skip and Loafer revolves around the roles for which we think we’re destined in a controlled social environment like high school, and how easily the preconceptions you have of other people can be shattered if you just get to, like, talk to them for 20 seconds. Mitsumi’s friend group quickly fills itself out with people who wouldn’t give each other so much as a passing glance at first, but come together so naturally that you almost can’t believe they weren’t friends already.

Shima, for his part, also struggles with those preconceptions; for as laid-back as he seems on the surface, he’s a habitual people pleaser and is constantly playing a role. He’s so caught up in the performance that he doesn’t quite know what’s going on half the time or how he really feels about most things. Mitsumi is so naturally magnetic, though, that he does seem to genuinely enjoy his time with her, and vice versa. You can see where this is headed, if the gorgeously-animated dances they do together in the OP weren’t enough of a tell.

Everything about Skip and Loafer is just downright pleasant. Character models are simple and sketchy, the color palette is awash in pastels and neutral tones, and the soundtrack is peppy and whimsical. It’s a warm hug of a series, and at no point does it feel cloying or manipulative. High school slice-of-life is pretty bloated as a genre, and I watched a ton of those this year, but there’s just something so charming and magnetic about Skip and Loafer that instills in me a sort of false nostalgia for the ideal high school experience I never had.

Also: Nao-chan. Exceptional trans representation. We do not get enough of that in anime and she is a breath of fresh fucking air. I would die for her.

7. The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Love You

And now for something much less wholesome.

I really don’t seek out harem anime. Tenchi Muyo was formative to me as a tween, and a rewatch last year ended up being a major catalyst in getting me back into anime, but despite it being widely considered the second-ever harem anime, it hasn’t left much of a legacy in the ones that followed. Harem anime from the 00s onward has largely been formulaic wish-fulfillment slop that runs itself in circles as a perpetual money-making machine rather than developing any sort of plot (see: Hina, Love and Girlfriend, Rent-a-). I know I covered Girlfriend Girlfriend earlier, and while that’s nothing like Tenchi either, it does scratch an ever-present itch for stupid, madcap, relentless anime bullshit.

The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, [...] Really Love You, meanwhile, sees that itch and takes a fucking chainsaw to it. To say everything about it is over-the-top would be an understatement: The top is Hyakkano’s floor. This show gives you everything you could ever want in a harem comedy, but to the extreme: It is your dad making you smoke the whole carton. It is Hell’s donut machine, and you are Homer Simpson. Satire is often at its best when it pushes the boundaries of absurdity, and 100 Girlfriends revels in that push like a horny bulldozer. This is not genre subversion, it’s genre explosion.

The headcount isn’t the only wildly outsized element of this series; every single member of the titular harem, each a tick on the checklist of every -dere archetype you can imagine, pushes the slider of each of their character tropes so far to the right it’s breaking the track. The deredere is a ball of deranged horniness, the tsundere betrays her intentions so compulsively that she’s functionally incapable of lying, and the kuudere is so robotically devoted to pure efficiency that it’s salient to mention that her name is literally pronounced “Nano A.I.” If you can think of an anime girl archetype, she is in this (or will be in future seasons), and she is the apotheosis.

And yet, this show still bothers to make each one of them an actual character. Harem anime has such a low bar to clear on that front, yet most entries in the genre still bang their dicks against it. Hyakkano's titular girlfriends, at least the ones introduced in the first season, are actual characters with actual backgrounds, actual motivations, actual growth, and actual reasons to like the protagonist beside the premise. They’re all founded on stock anime tropes, to be sure, but the original manga’s author actually put in the work to give them, you know, personalities. And above almost all else, they actually like each other too! This isn’t exactly a full-on polycule (though two of the girls are prone to making out with each other on occasion), but for as deeply weird as this family unit is on paper, they actually come across as a group of people who love and care for each other rather than everyone cattily jockeying for the same position. 

And not for nothing, but Rentaro is easily one of the best harem protagonists I’ve ever seen, and again, this is coming from a Tenchi Muyo fan. I do enjoy Naoya’s over-the-top earnestness in Girlfriend Girlfriend, but Rentaro is the gigachad version. He is exceedingly patient, kind, and understanding of each of these girls’ unique quirks and qualities and quickly grows to learn to manage them in conflict and help them work through their insecurities, and he loves them back in kind and puts in the work to make equal time for each of them. He doesn’t want to “fix” these girls; he sees them for who they are and proactively does everything in his power to accommodate them. He's like if Tadano from Komi Can’t Communicate actually got the harem he deserved. Putting aside the fact that he’s, y’know, 100-timing his girlfriends, he comes across as just a really good partner.

I also want to be clear: For its rampant, fanservice-laden anime bullshit, this show is genuinely hilarious. It’s not some kind of “how did this shit even get made” trainwreck; it is a comedy first and foremost, and the comedy hits exactly as intended. The comic pacing is buckwild, the visual gags are so rampant that they’re almost difficult to keep up with, and the translators, at least in the version I watched, did an outstanding job of localizing the constant wordplay. It’s also so unapologetic in its horniness that you can’t help but admire it a bit; 100 Girlfriends knows exactly what it’s about, and it dares you to say something.

There’s a very good chance this won’t be for you. 100 Girlfriends is constantly pushing the boundaries of good taste, but never in an offensive way and never truly at its characters’ expense. Geoff Thew calls it the “most 'harem' harem anime,” but I'd argue that it’s the most "anime" anime: It is every trope you’ve ever seen in romcom anime cranked up to a thousand and smushed up against your nose. This shit hits like Panera lemonade. It is peak trash. If you have a tolerance for anime bullshit, this show may very well test that, but I still cannot recommend it enough.

6. Heavenly Delusion

Didn’t think I’d be getting into more than one post-apocalyptic anime this year, but I’d seen this one recommended so many times that I felt this list would be incomplete if I didn’t watch it. Don’t ask me about Pluto.

Heavenly Delusion (Hulu lists it under its Japanese title, Tengoku Daimakyo, for some reason) splits its runtime between two different stories: The first, a pair of young travelers making their way across a ruined Japan in search of nebulous goals neither is sure even exist; the second surrounding a group of adolescents in an unnervingly idyllic walled garden in some sort of school setting. The narrative flips between these two sporadically, rarely ever showing its hand in how they are even remotely connected.

On the post-apocalypse side, we follow Maru and his bodyguard-for-hire, Kiruko, as they trek across the country to deliver Maru to someplace called “Heaven,” while at the same time, Kiruko is in search of a pair of men from their youth. They are often beset by bandits, cults, and most crucially, horrifying monsters called “Man-Eaters,” which Maru has the unique ability to kill. On the school side, we see a group of gender-ambiguous kids in an enclosed space, constantly monitored and kept in a very controlled environment. Everything feels… wrong. Nobody seems entirely human. There is a lingering and seemingly taboo curiosity about what lies outside the walls. I hesitate to say any more.

There is phenomenal human drama in here, and sparks so many conversations about transhumanism and human nature, gender, trauma, community, all things I’m not smart enough to really dive into. But to even address these topics here is to give the game away, and Heavenly Delusion is a story better left unspoiled, even if, a full season in, I’m still not 100% sure what’s going on.

This show is gorgeous in ways I’m still struggling to articulate. The character designs, animation, lighting, and cinematography are so immaculate that I repeatedly had to remind myself that I wasn't watching a movie. Heavenly Delusion looks like a grungy Shinkai film: Character models are immaculately realized and fluidly animated, the light and shadow effects are some of the best I’ve ever seen in TV animation, and action sequences are visceral and unpredictable. Maybe all I needed to say is that it was made by much of the same Production IG staff in charge of Psycho-Pass.

I want to say as little about what happens as possible, because the mystery is the main draw of Heavenly Delusion, but I feel the need to warn that there is a very dark and sour turn near the end of the season in the form of some strongly implied sexual violence. It was thematically unnecessary, and once that side of things is resolved, everyone just kinda… moves past it. It doesn’t ruin the show, I still recommend it heartily, but be forewarned. I found it upsetting, but more in the “did this REALLY need to be in there?” sense. The mounting tension and slowly-unfolding existential horror in this series are otherwise expertly woven into the narrative, and this part landed with a wet thud.

This is a much longer story than most of the season would have you believe, and it ends with far more questions than answers. One side of the story leaves off with an open end, and the other with a massive cliffhanger, which left me a little cold but with interest piqued for the next season. For what it is right now, though, Heavenly Delusion is a nearly perfect, endlessly thought-provoking mystery and one of the most gorgeously ugly things I’ve seen this year.