#i have never felt wanting to die more in my entire than now lol

[bunni-bun]

.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Ok, I just read your sweet yandere post and would like to add something.

I love the idea of like a mafia boss yandere or someone who is usually cruel (like maybe a Hades sort of character) but is an absolute sweet heart to their darling. One of my fave tropes

OOOOOOH I LOVE THIS TROPE! I have a character who's just like this actually, a total sweetheart to whoever he's with but has a very low tolerance for most other people.

Sorry, this is a long one lol

I'm gonna make headcanons now because you've inspired me lol.

(Banner/divider credit goes to @cafekitsune)!

Tw: Kidnapping, mentions of violence

Mafia boss! Charlie who is no stranger to violence. He's lived his entire life surrounded by it, in fact. Having a mafia boss for a father will do that to you, he guesses.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's spent his whole life working for the mafia, being trained to kill, smuggle, and deal ever since he was a child. He grew up living a life of crime, rising up the ranks (thanks to his father), before taking over as the boss when his father was killed by an unruly client.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's a cruel, ruthless man. He's killed dozens of people, injured many more, and runs his organization with an iron fist. He may be young, but he's learned enough to know that any show of trust, any display of kindness is a show of weakness, a show of vulnerability. He can't afford that, not when he's the head of the mafia, so he makes sure to make it so that no one will question or challenge his authority by any means necessary.

Mafia boss! Charlie who has very few real friends, keeping those he does have at an arm's length. He'd rather die than admit that he craves real relationships, that he desires to make genuine, true connections with others. But he can't, so he pushes his wants to the side, reminding himself that his only purpose is to keep his business running smoothly, nothing more.

Until he sees you, that is.

Mafia boss! Charlie who meets you out on a grocery run one day. Your interaction is nothing special, at least to you, but Charlie can't help but marvel at how easily you make conversation with him while ringing up his items, how seemingly unfazed you are by his snappy attitude and unapproachable appearance. It's been a long, long time since he's met anyone unafraid of him, and those people are usually rivals who are too cocky for their own good. So this, this is new. He knows it's stupid, he knows that your tiny interaction shouldn't have mattered much to someone like him, but he can't help but feel giddy about the connection he's sure he felt.

Mafia boss! Charlie who, against his better judgment, wastes no time in trying to find out who you are. It's not hard, he has an entire organization full of trained trackers, stalkers, and informants at his disposal, and by the end of the day, he has your full name, address, social media accounts, family tree, medical records, and much more safely in his welcoming hands. He knows this is a bit overkill considering he only met you today and your interaction lasted five minutes at most, but now that he has a taste of real human interaction, he's addicted. He needs more.

Mafia boss! Charlie who quickly becomes awestruck and obsessed with you. His whole life, he's been surrounded by the craftiest, cruelest, most violent people imaginable, so to see someone, especially someone as precious as you, live a completely normal life, naive to the dangers he faces everyday? It's captivating! Of course, he can't follow you all day, he is a mafia boss after all, but he has enough people following you around and recording your every move that he doesn't need to! He's never been happier to be who his is than now.

Mafia boss! Charlie who thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world. You're a sweet little thing, too gentle and too unaware of the dangers around you for your own good. He loves everything about you, no matter how weird or embarrassing. He's content to watch you carefully for a couple months, but as time goes on, his need to feel our touch, to talk to you, to see you face to face is too much. He needs you. He needs you NOW. It doesn't help that you're so vulnerable and weak compared to him, with no knowledge of weaponry or stealth to keep you safe. What if someone were to try and hurt you? Of course, his goons wouldn't let that happen, not if they wanted to keep their organs, but he would feel so much better if he could keep an eye on you personally. Not to mention, every mafia boss needs a spouse, and some of his higher ranking associates have been hinting that it's about time he found someone...

Mafia boss! Charlie who immediately starts planning your "transfer" to his house, meticulously drafting out every last detail to secure your safety. He chooses his best, most skilled employees to carry out his plan, only the best for his darling, and sends them out to bring you "home". That day you come home from work, completely unaware of the people in your apartment, completely unaware of the sleeping pills dumped into your water while you weren't looking.

Mafia boss! Charlie who's ecstatic to finally have you with him, to finally have someone to hold, to talk to, to love. He brings your unconscious body to your new room, laying you softly on the bed while instructing his employees to pack up all your belongings and bring them to him. He doesn't tie you down or chain you up, he has enough security measures in place to make sure you won't be able to escape. You won't even be able to leave your room without him being notified.

Mafia boss! Charlie who watches the camera in your room as you wake up for the first time in your new home, confused and disoriented. All of your stuff is here, but this is NOT your apartment. Where are you? He watches as you start to freak out, guilt flashing through him for the first time in his life. He doesn't want you to be scared, he just wants to keep you safe!

Mafia boss! Charlie who sends one of his gentler employees into your room to explain everything, too afraid of scaring you even further by showing up himself. He waits a few days before revealing himself to you, when your terror has calmed down and you've become more familiar with your surroundings. He kind of just stands there, unable to formulate a sentence, which is extremely unnerving to you. You've been told you're to be married to a highly respected and violent mafia boss, and here he is, just...staring. When he opens his mouth to speak, your surprised at how soft his voice is, calmly explaining to you that you're safe, you won't be hurt. He reaches out his hand to touch you, but recoils when you flinch, not wanting to push you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who does everything he can to make you more comfortable and less afraid of him, getting you anything and everything you've ever shown interest in, giving you as much space as you need, and letting you roam the rather large house freely. All you can't do is leave. He doesn't understand why you're still so scared, sure he's a criminal, but he promised he would never hurt you!

Mafia boss! Charlie who gets more desperate for your love as time goes on. He starts appearing in whatever room your in, softly talking to you about his day or about whatever you're doing, trying to get you to be more comfortable with him. Once you've gotten used to that, he starting slowly initiating physical contact, holding you in his arms like he's never going to let you go (because he won't). He tried his hardest not to push your boundaries, but eventually his need to be near you becomes too great. Rest assured though, he would never, ever dream of hurting you or purposely scaring you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who can't get enough of the feeling of your skin on his. He starts hugging/cuddling you whenever he can, holding you like you'll break if he presses too hard. He's always near you, cuddling up to you while telling you about how much he loves you, adoration shining in his eyes. He's the clingiest at night though, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fall asleep, him watching over you until he succumbs to his own tiredness. And his kisses? They are the softest, fluffiest thing you've ever felt. He cannot get enough of your lips, and he always kisses you passionately, like you'll disappear once he separates from you. With how loving and gentle he is, it doesn't take long for you to start loving him back.

Mafia boss! Charlie who starts giving you more privileges the farther you fall into stockholm. He'll even start taking you out in public on dates once he thinks there's no chance of you trying to escape him. He'd be able to find you if you did, he has many, many connections, but he trusts you won't. He loves going out with you and doing normal, coupley things with you, it's a nice break from his usual, violent life.

Mafia boss! Charlie who is insanely protective of you, never leaving you alone in a room with anyone except for himself. He knows how dangerous it is to be associated with him and now that he has you, he refuses to let anything happen to you. Any rival who attempts to hurt, kill, or kidnap you is met with Charlie himself, who enacts the most brutal, torturous death he can possibly think of on them. Nobody will come close to hurting you, he'll make sure of it. But no matter what happens, he'll always make sure you're far, far away from the violence. He never wants to subject you to the horrors he's seen (and done).

Mafia boss! Charlie who feels awful the first time you hear him raise his voice. It wasn't at you of course, he would never, ever think of yelling at his darling, you just happened to be in the room when he was meeting with one of his associates. It's scary seeing him yell, threatening brutal acts of violence on his own employee, and for the first time you realize how different he is with others than he is with you. He's quick to shut the meeting down once he realizes you're there, spending the rest of the night apologizing to you and assuring you he would never speak to you like that. This'll be the first time he truly opens up about what his job is like and why he has to be as cruel as he is, trying to help you understand why he behaved the way he did. It's difficult for him to make himself vulnerable, but he'd gladly to it if it meant easing your mind. From then on, he makes absolute sure you aren't around whenever he has to take care of business. He refuses to let you see him like that ever again.

Mafia boss! Charlie who never lets you forget how much he needs you in his life. You're the only thing keeping him from devolving into insanity, he wouldn't know how to handle himself if you were gone. He'll give you everything and anything if you listen to him and stay by his side, so please... please don't try to leave him.

Not that you would be able to, anyway.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 16.5 - Confessions and Cars 2

I thought I'd post this as a "I'm sorry" chapter lol and I felt like you readers needed some closure.

While writing this, I also realized that I do not know how to write a kiss (due to my non-existent love life)...so if someone has suggestions - I'd gladly take them :D

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

If Arthur thought that visiting you last November before you signed a Red Bull contract would somehow end up with you in his arms, he wouldn’t change anything. Back then, you had been his best friend. And, well, you were still his best friend, but he was hoping that soon (like tonight) you’d be more. 

The end credits of Cars 2 played on the tv in the dark room. Most of the drivers (including but not limited to Lando, Oscar, Lewis, Daniel, Pierre, Charles, and Max) – maybe all of the drivers, who had come to visit you after your release from the hospital, had all left by now. A completed Lego Porsche 9-11 sat on the little counter by the basic coffee machine. 

Now, it was just you, whose eyes were slowly drooping, and Arthur, who hadn’t been able to take his arms off of you since you got to the hospital in the first place.

Arthur, who had held you hand as the doctor put an IV in, because he knew your fear of needles. 

Arthur, who had extra hair ties on his wrist, because he knew you hated to have your hair on your neck right after races, no matter what. 

Arthur, who had called ahead to the front desk to specifically ask for a copy of Cars 2 be delivered to the room.

Arthur, who ubered your exact McDonalds order because you mentioned the craving once while you were still under some strong pain medication. 

Arthur, who was your best friend, but you honestly wanted to be some more. 

Your brain had been running a million miles since your car flipped into the barriers. 

“Are you ready to go to bed yet?” 

But his voice, was able to stop all thoughts. 

You only let out a sigh in response. Arthur didn’t want to rush you, so he just picked the remote up and started your comfort movie over again. 

Yet, you didn’t want to watch the entire thing over again. 

“I was scared.” 

Arthur immediately paused the movie, but kept his eyes in front. 

“I watched the sky cross the opening. And then it just, hurt.” 

His arms tightened around you. Yet, it wasn’t painful. 

“I blacked out for a while. And then when I woke up, all I heard,” you turned to look at the boy in your arms, “was you, calling for me.” 

Tears started forming in both yours and Arthur’s eyes. You shuffled a bit closer to him, getting even closer. 

Arthur took a deep breath. 

Hours before, he was ready to confess it all once you had gotten your first place trophy. He had it all planned out. But then, his world stopped the moment your back tyre clipped the first kerb and then you rolled. 

“Y/n,” he started. This time, his eyes met yours. The TV forgotten in the background. In this moment, Arthur was glad that everyone else had left. 

You waited with baited breath, urging him silently to continue. 

“Well, I had this big plan, for after your race. And now, sitting here, I just know one thing and one thing only.” 

You cocked your head in confusion. Yet, your heart was wanting him to speak the once sentence you’ve wanted to hear for forever. 

“I love you. And when you didn’t respond,” he took your hands in his, “I wanted to die. And I know that might sound extreme, but at that moment, I knew I didn’t want a life without you in it. I also know that we’ve only known each other for a little more than a year but…” 

You decided to interrupt him. “You’ve been my best friend for the majority of that year.” 

He nodded with you, heart a bit dejected since you hadn’t confessed right after. 

“I’ve never had a best friend, before you. And, I also couldn’t imagine a life without you. And Thur…” 

He didn’t let you finish. 

His lips met yours in a fervent kiss. You had to take a second to reel in your thoughts, but you kissed back. Because in this moment, you didn’t want anything to change. A large exhale left your nose. 

You were hungry for a race win. 

Arthur was hungry for your love. 

His hands moved from holding yours to gripping your sides. And well, in true Arthur fashion, he gripped a bit too hard as a hiss left your lips. 

His wide eyes looked right at your with concern. “I am so sorry.” 

And before he could start to ramble in broken French, you pecked his lips. Well, that shut him up. 

“It’s ok,” you whispered, trying to convince him. “And I love you too. Maybe a bit too much.” 

Arthur sighed in relief and pressed his forehead against yours. “You do not know how happy that makes me to hear.” His words were a bit jumbled and his accent was heavy, but you got the gist. 

“What now?” 

Maybe it was your fears and doubts, but if this changed things, you’d rather not continue. Because you’d rather be best friends than lose him. 

Arthur shut his eyes, smiles, and cocked his head. “I was hoping you’d be my girlfriend.” He gave you another sweet kiss, one that you reciprocated with a smile. 

“Well then,” another kiss, “ask me.” A smirk replaced the smile. 

Arthur leaned back and took your hands back into his and sat up straight. “Y/n?” 

You let out a giggle. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You quickly pressed up against his face. Not in a kiss sense way. More like, you missed and just smashed your face against him. He tried to keep you upwards, but you pushed him down and fell on top of him. Another hiss left your lips, but a laugh covered it. You gently rested your head on his chest as your attention was back to the movie. 

“Yes. I will be your girlfriend Mr. Leclerc.”

Arthur just let you snuggle back into him as he played the movie for a second time. Just as Mater was about to be reunited with Lightning McQueen, a thought suddenly crossed your mind. 

“What are we going to tell Max?”   

April 9, 2024

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 through it all, nobody gets me like you do

liked by y/n.nation, f1_fanatic, olliebearman, and 59,294 others

b0x_b0x UM GOOD MORNING? NOT EVEN A HELLO?

maxiel_lover babe, wake up, y/n just did a soft launch

y/n_nation Arthur isn't in the likes...

y/nxarthur I fear this is the end of the friendship?? y/n-on_top why would it be the end... y/nxarthur who knows, Arthur always likes her stuff and comments. maybe he doesn't like the boyfriend

oscarpiastri rue, when was this?

mcLaren_fan even Oscar doesn't know? logansargeant get in line of who doesn't know

olliebearman mother?? pick up your phone please

maxverstappen1 what the kid said, pick the phone up

box_box_official and the plot thickens

change_ur_f-car y/n not picking up her phone and Arthur isn't in the likes, what is this silly season?????

Big Racer

It's Arthur Isn't it??

Little Racer

who snitched

Big Racer

Kid, he looks at you like you hung the sun It doesn't take much sleuthing to find out

Little Racer

Please don't tell It's so new And I don't want to risk it

Big Racer

My lips are sealed But I do have one question Do I need to give you the talk?

Little Racer

MAX!?

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Crazy in Love | Han Jisung

Saw a post awhile back saying that they wanted to see a Jisung/Joker smut. I wrote this months ago but wasn't sure how I felt about it so it's just been sitting in my drafts. I wouldn't really say there's a plot with this one.

Synopsis: You're bored and wanna play. Who cares if J.One is in a meeting for world domination? It's never stopped you before. He'll ruin your makeup and end lives just fine.

Pairings: Crime boss Jisung x Female Reader

Content Includes: smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, Dom Jisung...sort of?, slight degradation and name calling, brief mention of violence and guns, hair pulling, I'm sure I forgot something lol

Want more smut? Follow the 🍌

“Mista J!” you sing-song, skipping into the room wearing nothing but a red and black lace bra and leather shorts too short to be considered anything but underwear.

Jisung sits surrounded by his worthless minions at the head of the table. They all pretend you don't exist, of course. Not one eye looks in your direction; if they did… well, their brains would decorate these four walls. Like the king he is, Jisung sits on a throne of premium leather that you were handed when you walked into the store. Really, the fancy schmancy furniture store just gave you whatever you pointed at. Okay, fine, maybe it had something to do with the two double-barrel sawed-off shotguns you held, but that's beside the point.

There's nothing too good for your Jisungie. There's not a thing you wouldn't do for this man. You would die for him, you would kill for him, raise hell with him, making the city cower as king and queen. You love every moment of it. Straddling and looking pretty on Jisung's lap, you kiss him. It’s sweet on your end, but he takes it a step further, making it hot and messy, drawing porn-worthy moans from you.

"Mmm, Mista J.One… If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to fuck me on this table right in front of everyone," you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He responds with a wicked, deadly grin that sends a rush of heat to your core.

"Lovely, I had to kill at least a dozen men after the last time. I can't risk that happening now, can I, pet?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flick up to the center of the room where his men sit, the intensity of his gaze daring any of them to look in your direction.

The way he glares, daring anyone to even glance at you, thrills you to your core. The reckless and dangerous aura he exudes turns you on, knowing he's willing to burn the entire world down for you, taking down anyone who dares to look at you. You pout and wiggle your hips, a soft whine escaping your lips as you feel him, hard and ready, pressing against you.

“Let me play, baby,” you whisper, leaning into him and licking the heart-shaped spider web tattoo on his neck.

He groans and shivers, bucking his hips up, making you squeal with delight and lust as his zipper brushes against your cunt. The damned leather is getting in the way of feeling more than you want, but that's okay; your mind is set on something bigger and better. You wriggle again, and he growls, the sound reverberating deep within you. Any other person would be scared, but you eat it up, craving more.

“What are you waiting for, lovely? Get on your knees for me,” he demands, his voice soft and dark, like feathers on a raven.

You almost fly up from his lap with excitement, hurrying to kneel between his thighs, looking up at him through your long lashes. The thing about this throne that caught your eye was the little footrest it came with. It's your favorite spot. Some days you sit there just waiting for him to use you any way he pleases. Your excited, maniacal giggles echo throughout the room as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you swing the garment around your head like a lasso, letting it fly free. You have no clue where it lands, but from the sounds of it, it seems to have landed on some poor guy's head.

Jisung smirks and cocks his head to the side, slowly looking in the direction of the unfortunate soul. "Oopsie," you whisper, reaching out to unwrap the present in front of you.

When Ji is satisfied that the man won't move, he looks down at you with his cock in your hands. You marvel at the size, as always, appreciating him, worshiping every inch of him. With loose fingers, you guide your hand up the length of his cock, feeling the heat radiate from the impressive muscle. Your mouth waters in anticipation and you smile up at him.

"Oh, Mista J, you're so hard for y/n." you purr, your mouth getting closer to the head of Jisung's cock.

The leather squeaks when he grips the arm of the chair, letting you take the lead... for now. You are his queen, after all—his beautiful nightmare. Damn it, if he didn’t have to go through with this fucking meeting, you would be bent over the table, drooling while he pounded his cock into every one of your fucking holes. Jisung is pissed, but only a little. These fuckers in the room better not dare look at you while his trigger finger is itchy.

With a wave of his hand, the meeting resumes, and you can hear the men shift uncomfortably, speaking about whatever plan for world domination Jisung's genius mind concocted. You ignore it all, too focused on watching the precum increase the more you play with Ji’s cock. So much more fun than any video game you were playing moments ago. You need him to make a mess of your makeup.

Every touch, every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through both of you. Jisung’s eyes, dark and intense, flicker with a blend of rage and lust as he watches you. He’s a volcano on the verge of eruption, held back by the thinnest thread of control. Your breath shakes as you feel the weight of his cock in your hand, the slickness of his precum making each movement smoother, more urgent.

He exhales sharply, a barely audible groan escaping his lips. The power you hold over him in this moment is exhilarating, each pump of your hand drawing a reaction from him.

"Such a pretty cock you have, Ji," you whisper, blowing cool air over him. You watch with delight as he makes it bounce for you, the sight eliciting a soft, approving hum from your lips.

More crazed laughter from you rings out through the room, and Jisung loves it. He revels in the way you make the men in the room flinch. They're just dying to look at you, their fear mingling with desire.

"All the better to fuck your pretty mouth with, y/n, and that pretty cunt of yours," he replies, putting a crude emphasis on the word "cunt" and laughing loudly.

His laughter is just as insane as yours, but far more psychotic and unhinged. That's because he is certifiably insane. You would know; you're the one who diagnosed him. His psychosis, however, makes you feel safe. It's almost as if it connects you two in a way that psychology cannot explain. The two of you put on a show for the men in the room, mentally synchronized and wondering who will be the first to break. Knowing that cold steel is right underneath the chair, Jisung will make quick work of eliminating the weakest one.

When you flick your tongue out to lap up the liquid that now coats the tip of his cock, he shudders and leans his head back, licking his lips. The voices around the room waver, but they continue as if you aren't here. Good boys. Now it's time for Jisung to be a good boy for you and lose his mind. You gasp in delight and lick your lips, humming.

“Mmm, so tasty. Whaddya say, J One? Can I be greedy tonight?” Batting your lashes up at him, you grin.

His hand grabs the back of your neck tightly, but not uncomfortably, and he leans down, getting closer to your ear.

“Take it all and leave no drop behind, and you'll get a reward for being so good.” He slams his mouth onto yours in a crushing kiss, both physically and spiritually.

He leans back, fingers massaging your scalp, petting you while watching whatever presentation his men are rambling about. Your tongue gets to work, starting at the base, trailing up and over every ridge and vein along his cock. You lick every surface, coating him and savoring how his hands begin to become less caressing and more rough. The sound of voices fades into the background. All your focus is on Jisung and his cock now.

Heavy and warm against your tongue, you take him deeper and deeper, further than you've ever allowed yourself to go. He lets out a slow, deep groan and fists your hair when the head of his cock presses against the back of your throat, and you keep going. It's hard to focus on your breathing, to keep it steady and even, when he's making those sounds. You've never heard him sound as desperate as he does now. He doesn't care who hears him or sees him vulnerable like this though. Only an idiot would use this moment against him.

The feel of his fingers tightening in your hair, the taste of him on your tongue, the vibrations of his groans echoing through your body, it's better than any psychedelic drug in the world to you. You can feel the tension in his thigh muscles, the way his hips involuntarily twitch, seeking more of the pleasure you're giving him. Jisung's breaths become ragged, his control slipping with each movement of your tongue and each press of your lips.

“Shit, lovely. Fuck, mm.” he whispers, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again to survey the room.

You know there's no way he's paying attention to anything but your lips wrapped around him, and you're right. Jisung couldn't care less if anyone was watching; he'd check the footage from the cameras later and deal with anyone who thought it was a good idea to watch you suck him off. For now, he loves how amazing you feel as you force his cock deeper down your throat. He doesn't mean to make the noises he does, but how could he hold them back when his queen loves hearing him be so vocal? He can feel your smirk, knowing that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, savoring the taste and the way his body tenses with each movement. Every moan and groan that escapes his lips fuels your determination to take him deeper, to push him further into ecstasy. His hands fist your hair more gripping it tightly, to steel himself against the overwhelming pleasure.

"That's my lovely baby. Ah—yeah, gonna fuck you till you can't stand later, y/n. Do you hear me?"

You hum in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers through his body. He whines and growls, balling his free hand into a tight fist, so tight that his knuckles start to turn white.

"Fuck, babe… gah!" He stiffens his legs, forcing himself not to buck up and make you choke on his length. He wants to wait until you've taken him all the way down your throat for that. "Ke-keep going. Yeah, nice and s... s-slow," he continues in a husky, breathy whisper.

Once you have every inch of him in your mouth, he waits for you to pull up a couple of inches before forcing your head back down. You gag and cough as he repeats the motion again and again. Your eyes water, and tears stream down your face from the relentless thrusting of his cock hitting your throat. He's fucking your face now, using your mouth like a fleshlight, controlling you by your hair. And you're soaking through your panties, coating the leather shorts with your arousal.

“Fuck, mm! Y/n... wrap your lips tighter. Mhm, just like that, baby. That's a good girl.”

You want to rub your clit so badly, but you'll topple over backward if you let go of the hold you have on Jisung's thighs. So, you squeeze your legs together tightly, releasing over and over while Ji has his way with you. His pre-cum oozes down your throat, steadily leaking like a faucet. The friction you're creating feels so good you could cum just from that. Your moans vibrate more, sending him into a feral frenzy. He feels his balls tighten, and he gets louder, grunting each time he rams his cock down your throat.

Jisung filling your mouth completely so harsh and fast is overwhelming. You can taste the salty tang of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva, creating a slick, warmth that coats your tongue. Each thrust makes your pussy ache with need, the pressure in your core building feeling almost unbearable. The heat of his body, the firm grip on your hair, makes your head spin.

His thrusts become more erratic and his grunts turn into desperate moans. You can feel the pulse of his cock on your tongue, the way it twitches and hardens even more.

“Daddy's little monster sucks cock so good. Isn't that right, gentlemen?!” Jisung questions loudly. A few agree hesitantly, not knowing how to answer, and those few would be gone by morning.

Why? Because how would they know that you're good if they weren't watching your performance? Jisung is a smart man; most psychopaths are. With a smirk and a moan, he thrusts upwards while pushing your head down into his lap. Your makeup is a mess, just the way you wanted. Tear streaks run down your face, and you're satisfied with your appearance. You'll be even more satisfied when he cums and even more so when he fucks you later.

“Every. Drop. Y/n. Swallow every fucking drop I'm about to give you. You ready, baby? I'm so fucking close.” he grinds out, gritting his teeth and his grip on your hair tightens painfully making you wince.

His hips jerk as he forces you down, the rough fabric of his pants scratching your cheeks, adding to your ruined face. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of his increasingly erratic thrusts. The sounds of his grunts and your muffled moans create a symphony of depravity echoing off the walls.

Jisung's mind is a funhouse of madness. If you were to open it up right now, the maniac's mind would be full of murder, mayhem, and you. It's a joke the way you make him feel—the best joke ever. How hilarious it is that a woman like you can make him weak, make him shiver all over, and become a moaning, whining mess. Your lips look so tantalizingly puffed out around him he almost wants to coat them with his cum, but he did say for you to swallow every drop, and he's a man of his word. He sees everything through, no matter how tempting it is. The humming you're doing on his cock is driving him madder than he already is. Oh god, do your lips feel so good to him. Jisung growls deep in his throat, a guttural sound that signals his impending climax.

“Take it, baby. Take it, y/n. Right. Fucking. Now. Oh, fuck!” His hands force your head down as he shoots rope after rope after rope of cum down your throat.

It hits the back of your throat forcefully and pools there until you relax, letting the warm, salty liquid easily go down. You swallow every drop he gives you, just like he told you to, the action drawing a final shuddering moan from him. Another growl and he's quickly pulling your head back and picking you up. You gasp for air as he spins you around and lays your stomach flat against the hard white surface of the table.

“GET OUT!” he yells, and every man in the room scatters. The one with your bra still on his head tosses it onto the table with shaky hands, sporting a very uncomfortable-looking hard-on. “Fuck if I'm waiting to fuck you.”

Your tight shorts are forced down roughly, and he rams his cock into your cunt, making you scream. He’s rough, really rough, and his thrusts are fast, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain—mix the two, and you've got the base of you and Ji’s relationship.

“Harder, Jisung, ah! Fuck me harder, please.” you beg him, and he laughs maniacally again.

He smacks your ass before reaching around and grabbing you by the neck. The slapping sounds of your bodies coming together are so loud that they cover up your yelps of pain when he does as you asked. It hurts so good you become incoherent; you don't even hear Jisung when he says that this will be all you're good for. It's a joke, his best yet if he's honest with himself, which he won't be. He'll pretend that he keeps you around just to fuck but he knows Gotham only has one queen, and that's you. He just doesn't want to admit that the way your cunt holds him and pulls him in, is the reason for his insanity now.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, y/n.” his legs tremble with each long stroke inside you.

“C-cum, Jisung! Oh god, I'm there. Right… right…” Inhaling deeply, you let go, moaning loudly cumming on Jisung's cock and he follows you, filling your cunt.

“That’s my lovely—mmph! Filling your pussy to the brim. My sweet, deranged cum slut.” He pulls you back into him by your throat, finding your mouth and placing a possessive kiss on your lips. “Surrender your existence to me, y/n and let’s watch the world burn, darling.”

“Everything that I am, Mista J you already own. Let the ashes rain, baby!” You throw your head back with a crazed laugh and Jisung joins you, holding you tight in his arms.

✧ 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 ✧

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst

•If you want to be tagged in future posts let me know here•

[weirdsht]

Die With A Smile - Cale/Reader

a/n: yes it's from the new lady gaga and bruno mars song. I noticed how reader always seems to be on the dying side in my fics so...

oh and I cried to the point of dehydration when I wrote this lol

tags: reader gender not specified, angst, tragedy, injuries, possibility of death, open ending

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Cale Henituse is such a selfish person. 

He continues to make unreasonable demands even when in this crucial moment.

Can’t he see the tears streaming down your face? Can’t he feel the sadness and grief overtaking your entire being?

Can’t he tell that his the reason why you’re in this state?

He probably could. His Cale Henituse after all, the ever so intelligent commander. The young master that can ensure everyone’s survival even in the direst situations.

Everyone but his.

And that’s why his so so selfish.

“Are you really telling me what to do after you’re gone?”

You cried as you felt his weak hand caress your cheeks. His hands are soft, pampered. Unlike his hands when he was Kim Rok Soo; rough and calloused. Not that it mattered much.

As long as it was him, the man you loved, it didn’t matter what his hand felt on your skin.

Cale Henituse chuckled lightly as if nothing was wrong. As if it was just a normal day in the underground villa where the two of you are lazing around.

It made you wish that Raon was here to smack some sense into him.

But alas he wasn’t. In fact, no one was around. It was just the two of you. No Raon, no Choi Han, no Eruhaben, no Rosalyn.

No way out of this damned cave.

“Stop laughing! I’m not joking!”

You couldn’t help but shout at him. You’re hands working hard to wipe every blood that comes out of his mouth, his eyes, his ears, his… 

His…

You can’t tell where the blood is coming from anymore. 

His blood-soaked hand continued to caress your cheek. Blood smearing everywhere, but you didn’t care. You can’t when you can feel his hand growing colder with each stroke.

Your lover was so selfish.

Oh so so so selfish.

“We’re both injured you dipshit.”

“You have a higher chance of survival than me. I made sure of it.”

Despite everything, he still thought of you. Yet he failed to think of what you would be if he were gone. Never considered how grey your world would become without his unprompted snarky remarks.

“Is this your payback for me dying back on Earth?”

You laid down beside him. The ground was hard as you already sacrificed every piece of clothing you both had to make Cale comfortable. Everything was quiet and peaceful. If it weren’t for the fact that both of you were injured you would have relished in it.

“Maybe… perhaps I wanted you to know how I felt that day– Agh! Fuck it hurts!”

Cale tried to joke but was cut off because his entire body shook with pain once more.

Trying to ease his pain, you held his hand. Squeezing it as you felt your own injuries hurt and throb. Both of you found solace in each other in this dark cave.

“How are your injuries? Especially the one on your side?”

The redhead inquired as he felt your hold tightened. He was probably in so much more pain than you are. But still… still, he insists on prioritizing you.

“Better than your plate could ever be.”

You omitted the part where your side is still profusely bleeding. He didn’t need another stressor when he was already one foot on death’s door.

Turning over to your side hurt, especially since you’re now crushing your wound. But you did it, just so you could stare at his face for probably the last time in this life.

“I know that it’s bleeding. I’m not dumb, lie on your back.”

Silence lingered in the cave as you said nothing. It was enough to tell Cale that you’re not gonna follow.

For what felt like hours, the two of you simply held each other’s hand. Racing to see who will give in the their injuries first.

Cale rested his forehead on yours. It felt magnetic, or maybe that was just the sticky blood. You aren’t so sure, but it felt comforting.

That was until he opened his mouth once more.

“Hey what if I pass over my ancient powers—”

“Don't you fucking dare.”

Both of you could barely speak, yet here you are still arguing.

It reminded you of all the times the two of you bickered over the smallest things.

Then it reminded you of how this was probably the last time you would be able to do so.

Cale seems to have a similar line of thoughts as he shuts up once more. A faint smile was visible on his face, probably remembering the times you spent together.

You squeezed his arm as black spots began dancing around your vision. They looked tempting, they looked like they could relieve the pain you were feeling.

But you resisted, if Cale was fighting then you’re fighting too.

“Hey…”

Cale Henituse started again after a few minutes.

“I don’t like this pain anymore…”

“You never liked pain…”

The love of your life chuckled because it was true. His chuckle was weak, almost lifeless. You tried to laugh too but couldn’t for you know the implication of those words.

Cale Henituse is reaching his limits.

And honestly, you were reaching yours too.

But you didn’t like that. You want for the both of you to live, to get out of this hellish place together.

“...I don’t like this pain anymore too.”

“See… I told you haha…”

You had no choice but to admit it. You don’t know what will happen after this. Cale said he ensured for you to have a higher chance of survival but it’s been hours. It’s a miracle none of you have dropped dead yet.

Removing your forehead from Cale’s you lifted yourself a little. It was so that you could kiss him.

Again, for possibly the last time in this lifetime.

You used the strength you didn’t have to land that one last kiss. Both of you are weak, but passion dominates the kiss. As if each of you were trying to put in the last of your vitality in this kiss. Trying to give it to the other person so they can live longer.

“I love you.”

“You’re my everything.”

Cale and you simultaneously muttered as the kiss broke. You laid back down once more to try and ease the pain that flared up over your little stunt.

Everything hurts, there’s a puddle of blood underneath the two of you, Cale was slowly losing consciousness.

But the two of you had smiles on your faces.

Because the two of you got to experience your last moments in each other's arms.

That was better than dying alone in this cold and dark cave that held you hostage.

However, tears fell from your eyes as you witnessed Cale desperately blinking to stay awake. It was finally sinking in that at least one of you might die here.

Both of you might die here.

There were still so many things the two of you didn’t do. Both of you had promised to take the children on another shopping spree next week. You promised Lock and the other wolf children that you would teach them some martial arts you learned back on Earth. Cale promised Choi Han that they would replenish the flowers in the cemetery in Harris Village.

Though that last one might turn into Choi Han having to lower flowers for both of you.

“My love… my dearest…”

You were so weak that you couldn’t continue your words. But Cale didn’t need words for he could understand you from your breath alone, and you from his.

“Don’t… cry…”

How dare he have the nerve to say that when there are tears streaming down his face too?

Cale used the very last of his strength to bring your joined hands towards his lips. It was his last act of comfort. His last act of love.

“I love… y ou… I’ll… al way s  will…”

With that Cale Henituse’s eyes closed. His hand still holding onto yours. Still pressed against his almost blue lips.

“I… I lo ve… you too…”

Then you followed suit.

As you closed your eyes you think you could hear desperate screams break the silence in the cave. Desperate and anxious screams that oddly sounded like Eruhaben. Then mixed in it are tensed orders from someone who sounded similar to Alberu.

But you didn’t have any strength left to check if you were hallucinating. So you closed you eyes and gave into the abyss waiting to comfortably embrace you.

“...CALE!”

You shouted the moment you woke up. You think you sat up but you weren’t sure. Too disoriented from your injuries and painkillers. 

You think you could feel hands trying to make you lie back down again but you weren’t sure. Even if you were, you didn’t care.

Ignoring the hands trying to subdue you, you tried to feel around for Cale. There were bandages covering your eyes, you realise just now. It seemed like you’re lying down on a bed as it felt soft.

But those weren’t the things you were looking for.

“Cale!? Where’s Cale!?”

You shouted, despair and anguish evident in your voice. There’s a bunch of textures you can feel. Lots of scents you could smell. Tons of voices you could hear.

However, none of them were Cale’s.

Not a single one of them felt like your lover’s.

[rosesradio]

Hi, do you mind if I pick your brain about the pro/antiship thing? I'd like to check first because it's a dumpster fire of a controversy in fandom spaces and I'd 100% understand not wanting to touch it with a ten-foot pole. But also cuz it mentions somethin triggering+disturbing.I've always wondered what another person might think but I usually try to stay miles away from fandom drama, but you seem like, not chronically online about it

lmaoo thank you, i try to make my blog a chill, safe space to come to despite me being. Not chill about anything ever 😅

so here’s the definition of each that i added to the poll:

Proshippers argue that shipping is all fictional, so there is no harm in shipping characters who shouldn’t be together in real life. Anti-shippers argue that fiction reflects and influences real-world beliefs and behaviors, so fans shouldn’t romanticize unhealthy relationships. You can be proship and not ship any problematic ships, or vice versa.

i got these definitions, with my own addition at the end, from a Reddit thread you might find helpful.

so i’ve been in fandom for many years, and up until around 2022 i was mostly what would be considered an anti-shipper.

within the (*gags*) sanders sides fandom, there was a ship called remrom. this was the ship between the characters roman and remus, canonically twin brothers. i never shipped it, not my thing, and it caused a lot of division in the fandom. people would often put on their wattpad (yeahhh wattpad era babey) profiles & even their fics “dni & leave if you ship remrom, go die” etc. i don’t think i put that on my own fics, but i was hostile & blocked people i found shipping it. because how could you ship twin brothers, that’s disgusting!!1!

…the funny thing about sanders sides, though, is that all of the characters represent fragments of one guy’s personality. roman is his creativity, remus is his dark!creativity, etc. the fandom shipped many other pairings with the (non-related) characters, the most popular being Roman and Virgil (anxiety). (Yes this is causing me physical pain to type out thanks for asking 🧍). so all that exposition aside…we were all shipping selfcest. and in a way, is selfcest any worse than incest? i suppose that’s subjective, but it just goes to show a bit of hypocrisy.

i also shipped some “problematic” pairings over the years, but changed them up to be “non-problematic”. for example, i had a billdip fic in which i made bill bodily 15 to match dipper & had him turn magically human (does this make the ship entirely non-problematic? hell no lmao, but as is the way of 15-year-old rose)

so that aside, i joined tumblr in 2022, in the cobra kai fandom. there’s a ship in the cobra kai fandom called silverusso, a ship between an insane(ly hot? don’t look at me 🫣) karate instructor named silver and the main character, daniel larusso. this ship is extremelyyy toxic on several levels. for one, daniel is freshly 18, while silver is assumed to be in his 30s(?) during karate kid 3 (please watch karate kid 3 but also be sure you’re sober when doing so because the movie is a trip, lol). for another, silver essentially seduces daniel into devolving into a violent robot, primed for silver’s command & corruption.

now for me…i’m not going to get into the details because i don’t want to, but i had experienced trauma somewhat related to the silverusso dynamic the previous year (only with minimal karate, lol). even three years later, i am still impacted by said trauma in small ways. i was honestly insulted by people shipping this ship, because it felt like they didn’t care about victims & were romanticizing and sexualizing situations i was having nightmares about.

that is, until i made some friends in the fandom. i bonded with them on our common interests, and then i got to see a bit more into the silverusso shippers’ heads rather than the horrible things i was hearing about them from others. i learned that they really weren’t that bad people at all, all well-intentioned & respectful of boundaries. some of them were even victims of trauma similar to my own, who used darkfic as a place to vent their emotions. considering i had told very few people of what happened, considering no one really understood, i felt safe.

not to plug, but this is a fic i wrote sort of in that space lol

so anyways, i learned more & more about proshipping ways, profiction, anti-harassment, & anti-censorship. i adopted the take that fiction can be a good place to explore complex emotions or even just compelling ideas.

(because you do not need to be traumatized to be interested in darkfic! in fact, the anti-ship take of “darkfic is okay if you’re recovering from trauma” is often harmful to victims, forcing them to out themselves for a stranger to judge if they’re “traumatized enough” to be “allowed” write darkfic. people should be free to write whatever with no explanation, just respect to others & proper tags/warnings).

i would like to think that the anti-ship ideals are in the best interest of others. they often do speak from a place of wanting to respect trauma victims (even if the hate messages they’ve sent me aren’t very respectful, lol). i can see how easy it is to be swept up into the moral quandary of it all because i’ve been there. in fact, if i saw trauma victims who were anti-shippers today, who felt the same resentment i did in 2022, i would feel sympathy for them and wish them the best in their recovery. darkfic has definitely helped me, though it is not for everyone. (though to those people i would also recommend they block bothersome tags and try to clear it from their mind).

i do wish people would approach actual proshippers to ask the way you are right now, anon. i think the spread of misinformation on how “being proship = shipping only problematic pairings” or god forbid “being proship = being a pedo” means a lot of well-meaning people obviously are disgusted and don’t bother to seek out the actual meaning of the term.

you don’t have to ship problematic parings or like darkfic to be considered proship. in fact, a lot of my mutuals here only like fluff & traditionally “healthy” pairings, but they support people’s right to ship and write whatever they want, provided it stays in its properly tagged lane. it’s just important to not push for censorship on sites like ao3 (one of the last safe spaces for every kind of fanfic), as well as not harass anyone in fandom for what they do with fiction. it’s not proper fandom etiquette, and it’s not a good thing to do.

fictional characters are dolls. real people are real, as are their feelings.

one last thing

i hope all of that answered your question, anon, and feel free to return with any more questions you might have 💌

[ninapi]

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Family ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Raising someone else's child is one thing, but raising your own while dealing with your insecurities could be quite a task, especially for a man like Satoru, but the moment he saw the baby his life turned upside down.

Word Count: 3104

Note: This is the third installment for a short series of mine, they all have different titles because I'm weird like that lol, but you can read the first part here, and the second one here.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

When Satoru took Megumi in, he didn’t have to do much besides giving him financial support and make sure he had everything he needed as a growing child.

He was already the person he is to this day, and Saturu had very little to add to this. So when he realized what having his own baby was going to be, his already existing demons started to kick in.

While is normally the mother the one who tends to spiral into despair thinking of the future of their newborn and the changes impacting daily life, Satoru had more than one reason to feel uneasy.

He loved his girl and his unborn child, there was no doubt there; but the implications of being a parent were heavy for a man like him.

Dealing with the elders was one thing, but being a good dad was a very different one.

All he was good at was fighting curses, that’s what he came to this world to do, but having to think of how to be a good dad was definitely more scary than a special grade curse.

Megumi was way more ready than he was, in fact, without Megumi your pregnancy would have been quite the nightmare. But he was always checking up on you, helping you with tidying the apartment, even took you to the hospital check ups and went in the doctor’s office with you.

Some even thought he was your son, to Megumi’s displeasure. 

Satoru on the other hand tended to flee when things like this came upon, excuses were easy to come by when you’re the strongest sorcerer. But in reality he was beating himself over and over again for his own behavior while sitting on a cliff.

He wanted this, he wanted to be with you, wanted to have a family with you. Or so he thought at first, but what does it even mean to have a family? His was anything but conventional and he had no idea where to start.

You were his life now, he didn’t care about the future of this world if he was being honest, he never did really, all he wanted was to take you to a Polynesian island and live in a fancy luxury tree house with you, the baby and Megumi. But life wasn’t as easy, he had to deal not just with the damn old men hunting his every step, but also his responsibilities in the school, he couldn’t just disappear, not with another teacher and a top tier student tagging along.

He wanted to do better, be a good husband, a good dad, not just to his baby but to Megumi as well, he felt like he’s been failing everyone he truly cares for and that was a feeling like no other, one he could live his entire life without encountering it ever again.

But time for cowarding around ended sooner than he expected as time runs extremely fast when you don’t want to deal with your problems.

He got a call from Megumi, he was at the hospital, water came out of you and you were tugging on his hair while screaming in pain, you were certainly dying so he had to come fast. It all sounded like a nightmare to Satoru, he truly thought you were dying, he’s never seen a pregnant woman on the later stage of pregnancy deal with it, and Megumi either, so they were both panicking on a bench this very same moment.

“I can’t lose her, Megumi…what am I going to do if she dies? What if the baby dies too? What if I have to raise the baby on my own? I can’t do this…I would rather be killed by a curse…maybe I should turn off my infinity…yes, someone would come and kill me as well, then we would all die together…” a loud smack could be heard rumbling over every wall of the hospital. He’s never seen Megumi this angry before, “Can you stop and be a god damn adult for once in your life? (Y/N) needs you. She’s in labor right now, delivering your baby! She’s in so much pain, things are coming out of her, she’s probably so scared right now, and all you’re thinking about are ways of getting yourself killed!”

Satoru’s cheek was quickly getting red and swollen, how did he even manage to touch him that easily? 

Zenin’s are truly a terrifying clan.

“Why does nobody care about me being scared? I can be scared too you know? I know I’m the strongest sorcerer, but that doesn’t make me the strongest husband or the strongest dad…”

Megumi was left speechless, he never thought the great Gojo Satoru would admit being scared, “Do you think I’m not scared? I love her ok? She might be your girl, the mother of your child and what not, but she isn’t just a crush to me, she’s also the only mother figure I’ve had, the only person who truly understands me and cares for me. I don’t want her to die!” tears were falling down Megumi’s cheeks as he vented all his worries out of his very constricted chest. He’s the one who’s been by your side during your whole pregnancy, what if this was his fault? What if you were in so much pain because he didn’t take good care of you? Those words kept flooding his head and Satoru was just as lost as he was in that moment, he didn’t know how to reassure his adoptive son and was in need of reassurance himself.

That was until loud cries could be heard coming from the room you were being kept in.

“What was that-“

Megumi’s ears perked, he couldn’t hear you at all, why was it so loud, he needed to confirm you were fine. “I don’t know, who’s crying? That’s not her, I’m sure…”

“Of course is not her, you idiot…” the door opened up to a very tired looking nurse, her gown was covered in what looks like blood wiped out not long ago, Satoru’s face paling the moment he saw her.

“Is…I-Is (Y/N)…” his voice was cracking, all his memories with you going into his brain like a movie.

“She’s fine, she’s currently holding your son, would you like to go in? She’s asking for Megumi, I assume that’s you?” 

“No, that’s me! Can I go in too then?” the nurse was very confused but nodded anyways. Megumi ran inside the room, falling down to his knees when he saw you smiling, holding a little bundle to your chest, “Oh thank god….” 

“Gumi, my love, come meet your baby brother!” you looked so tired, yet so happy, he thought he’d never get to see your beautiful smile ever again.

“Are you ok? Is the pain gone?”

“She’s fine kid, giving birth is no easy fit, hope this experience helps you respect women for what their worth. Men would never be able to give birth, they’d die within minutes.” the nurse’s words made you chuckle, it was true after all, especially for your spoiled boys.

“Toru? I didn’t know you were here, I thought you were at work! Come meet your son~” Satoru was still by the door, he thought he’d lost you, the very same feeling he felt that one day you almost die in front of his eyes, just that this time felt even more real as he saw the dried blood on the nurse. He didn’t know how to react, relief was present that’s for sure, but he was also terrified, he was happy to hear you were fine, but you were holding his son right this moment. He had a son now, officially, he is a dad now.

“Babe?” the confused look in your face made him move from his spot, he couldn’t put more stress on you, not after you had to deal with all that just to bring his son to this world.

“So a boy, huh? I thought it’d be a girl…” Megumi really wanted the baby to be a girl, to look just like you so he could snuggle the baby’s cute cheeks and spoil her rotten.

“Mhm, I haven’t named him yet, I wanted Toru to see him first…” Satoru was now standing beside you, his eyes not going down just yet, though his range of vision was so wide, he could see a tiny hand moving out and about and it made it so hard for him to keep ignoring him.

Once he finally got the courage to look at his son, his brain released a triple shot of dopamine right to his heart.

How can a newborn be this cute? They’re usually all red and wrinkly, not at all pretty. But his son…he got his blue eyes and silvery hair, but his face, he looked just like you. The cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Is he…” the moment he opened his mouth the baby started wailing loudly, startling his father.

You were rocking the baby from side to side making him know everything was fine, “Sweetie, c’mon hold your son.” 

“But he’s crying (Y/N)! How do I make it stop?” you set the child in his arms, once their eyes met the baby stopped crying, a lil yawn leaving his lips, this causing Satoru to smile. “Oh, I think he’s just tired…aren’t you my beautiful son?”

“It’s a combined effort of both sides after all, he did have to help mama a lot during the birthing process.” The nurse was finally ready to leave you to rest and needed to take the child with her. “He needs to come with me, Gojo-san. But I need a name so I can set him in the room with the other newborns.”

“I was thinking of naming him Suguru…you know…to honor your frie-“

“No.”

“But baby…”

“I said no.” his stern tone of voice made your heart sink, you thought he’d be happy about this, it was some sort of a surprise even.

Megumi saw darkness loom over Satoru’s eyes and thought of intervening. “Shion.”

“What was that, love?” 

“Shion, my brother’s name I mean..” the fact that he referred to the baby as his brother made you feel so much love, even Satoru’s face softened at his words.

“Gojo Shion it is then.” the nurse took the baby from Satoru’s arm and he’s never felt this empty before. “Do you really need to take him? I mean he’s a newborn, is not like he needs friends right now. Wouldn’t it be better for him to hang out with his family than with other babies?” his reasoning was beyond cute, even to the stoic nurse. 

“Look sir, the child isn’t going to a baby party, he needs a check up and that’s the process in general. If everything goes out well you’ll be able to take them home in a couple of days. Now if you excuse me..” The baby was half asleep and his little hand was out of the blanket still and Satoru felt like his life lost all purpose, his son needed him so much right now, he needed to be tucked cozily under his blanket and there was nothing he could do to help him…he felt completely useless…

Megumi was cleaning your face with a wet towel, making sure your pillow was all fluffed properly, while Satoru spiraled into sadness.

“Can you get the blanket in her baby bag? There’s also some warm socks in the front pocket.” 

Satoru could feel Megumi’s murderous stare and that made him go back to earth, “Yeah sure. Socks…socks…here.” 

Megumi just stared at his hand with so much hate, yet he didn’t know what he did wrong this time. “What?”

“(Y/N)’s socks, not the baby’s socks…”

“Oh! Right…” he needed to get himself together, you needed him just as much as his son did.

“Here, my love.” he got your feet covered with your favorite fluffy socks, then leaned to kiss your head lovingly. Megumi covered you with the blanket he brought for you and went over the snacks he packed to replenish your strength.

“Isn’t he the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?” you sounded so tired, exhausted even, but to him you were the most wonderful and beautiful women in this universe. The mother of his son.

“Of course he is, he’s my son~” that made you chuckle. 

“We are parents now…how does that make you feel, Toru?” that question hunted him for months, but now he was ready to answer it truthfully. “I’m scared…I don’t know if I can be a good dad…But I’m also the happiest man alive…you’ve given me so much…I want to be the man you and my son need me to be…” his face wasn’t one of happiness, it was more one of realization. 

He felt so much…it was overwhelming. 

But the moment he locked eyes with his son, he just knew it, this was it, this was the real reason he came to this world, to bring his son to life, to give you and his son a happy life full of beautiful memories.

“Gojo-sensei…I think she needs rest…” you were giving him a soft loving smile, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand while he processed what just happened. 

“I’ll stay here, you go back to the school.” he wasn’t there for you when you needed him most, when you were confused and in pain, when you needed his love and care. But he was here now, and he wouldn’t let that happen again. 

He grabbed one of the chairs by the wall and brought it next to your bed, his hand reaching for yours once more before dimming the lights, “I’ll stay here with you, baby. Just rest.”

Megumi left after making sure you had everything you needed with the promise of coming back next morning with a fresh change of clothing for his guardian.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Having a newborn baby in the house was a whole adventure, at least according to Satoru.

He had to learn everything about babies in a couple of days and lets just say books aren’t as reliable in the subject.

Babies cry a lot and figuring out what the problem was isn’t as easy as he had hoped for.

Not only that but your nipples were sore from breastfeeding causing you to frown all day, Megumi was in a bad mood because the baby didn’t let him sleep at night and he ended up stepping on a dirty diaper this morning, twice, barefoot.

While to others this might sound awful, Satoru was living his best life.

His son was just as in love with him as he was and he was livid. Putting him to bed was his self assigned job and his favorite part of the day. He’d go on talking forever explaining how his technique works and all he had to do to perfect it, of course his son didn’t understand a thing, but his voice really soothed the child so they both loved their bonding time.

Megumi would sneak in your room and sleep while hugging one of your legs while Satoru took the child out to get some sunlight in, even if he denied it, he was very much jealous of his baby brother, he just didn’t get as much time with you as before and he had no excuses to be babied like the infant was now. He wanted more and didn’t know how to ask for it, so even if you and Satoru were aware of his sneaky nap times, you both appeared ignorant to the teen.

Being a mother suited you so beautifully though, there was nothing Satoru loved more than seeing you with his son in your arms. The way your loving eyes landed on his little face, the kissy sounds you made at him to make him giggle, it was all just so perfect to him.

And being a father suited him just as much. The baby carrier he had hanging from his chest daily and the way he would always hold one of his tiny feet in one of his hands as he walked by proudly was the cutest thing this world had to offer. 

He was a happy man.

Of course, him parading around with his child made the elders realize what was going on pretty fast.

Thankfully the child didn’t display any sign of inheriting infinity, at least not yet, something he had shown almost since birth, which made them back off quite fast with the promise of him trying to conceive further children with you.

Of course, he didn’t want this. Not because he didn’t want more babies, but because it terrified him knowing one of them could very well have it and be taken away from you. The thought of his son being exploited the way he was as a child was a constant nightmare for him.

But reality plays dirty tricks on you when you least expect them..

You being such a cute mama and having those swollen breasts full of milk caused…unexpected results…getting you pregnant once more before Shion even turned four months of age.

For someone who didn’t understand the concept of family, he was quite good at making one.

His first family member being the lovely teenage boy who loved the mother of his children more than anything in this world, more than him to be quite honest. But he regretted nothing, Megumi was as important in this family as little Shion was and the little baby girl inside your growing belly.

The family kept growing at an exponential rate, and this world was anything but safe. But having the strongest sorcerer by your side did help quite a lot, specially now that he’d gotten the titles of strongest dad and strongest husband to the list as he very much wished and thought never would.

His family was not conventional, it was broken even, starting with him.

But it was perfect the way it was.

He chose his own family after all.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Masterlist

[miley1442111]

down bad- jj maybank

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

a/n: yes, i am a swifty- sorry lmao. I was thinking of doing a story for every track but we'll see how that ends up lol.

intended for fem!reader

summary: based off of down bad by taylor swift

pairings: jj maybank x fem!reader, (platonic) rafe cameron x adopted sister

warnings: break-ups, no happy ending

Did you really beam me up

In a cloud of sparkling dust

Just to do experiments on

Tell me I was the chosen one

Show me that this world is bigger than us

Then send me back where I came from?

It was another party and another useless attempt at calling Jj. You sat in the corner, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids, yet you stayed. You stayed for the small chance that Jj might come. It might’ve been your birthday, but you’d never been less merry in your life.

For a moment, I knew cosmic love

What happened? You two had been the pogue couple. You two were perfect for each other, his teenage petulance, your logical mindset. You were going to college on the mainland, you’d probably bring him with you. At least, that’s what the entire island thought. 

You were his sense. You were his saviour. You stopped his excessive drinking and smoking. You were there for him every time he stood up to his father. You helped him with schoolwork when everyone else had given up on him. You stayed by his side, always. 

And he discarded you. 

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym)

Everything comes out teenage petulance

Fuck it if I can't have him (Fuck it if I can't have him)

I might just die, it would make no difference

Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood)

Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up

Fuck it if I can't have us

I might just not get up, I might stay

You sat there all night, waiting for a sign of him. He didn’t show. He forgot your birthday. He must’ve really been done with you. 

As you swept up the remnants of a party you didn’t want, a familiar voice rang through the house. 

“You alright?” Rafe, your brother. You wanted to scream, but you took a deep breath instead, a pleasant smile on your tear-stained face. 

“Fine,” you lied. “How are you?”

“I heard Jj left you,” he sighed. “I’m sorry-”

“If you’re here to gloat Rafe, I’m not in the mood,” you sighed. “Just go.”

He didn’t move. “I’m sorry-”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hand off you. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m here for you, you know that, right?” 

You didn’t want Rafe to be there for you, you wanted Jj to be there for you. You hadn’t felt rejection and devastation like this break-up. Jj was your first love, your first everything. Every time you closed your eyes you felt his hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, his smile on your skin. 

Down bad (Like I lost my twin)

Fuck it if I can't have him (Down bad)

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

“You’re my everything,” he whispered, a hand dusting your waist. “We don’t have to do anything.”

You shook your head. “I want to,” you promised. 

“You sure princess?” he smiled. You nodded. 

I loved your hostile take-overs

Encounters closer and closer

All your indecent exposures

How dare you say that it's?

I'll build you a fort on some planet

Where they can all understand it

How dare you think it's romantic

Leaving me safe and stranded?

'Cause fuck it, I was in love

So fuck you if I can't have us

(Ah)

'Cause fuck it, I was in love

You opened your eyes again, tears spilling freely. “Get out Rafe.”

“I don’t think you want that.”

“I do,” You sobbed. “I want you and everyone else on this shitty island out of my fucking life! I can’t fucking wait to get out of here, away from you and fucking away from Jj! I hate you Rafe, truthfully, I do. But I hate Jj even more, and you’re just here because your dad asked you to be and we both know it, so if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.”

Jj stilled, the flowers in his hand falling to the floor. You turned at the sound and another choked sob left your throat. 

“Get out of my life!” You shouted, running up the stairs to your bedroom. 

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym)

Everything comes out teenage petulance

Fuck it if I can't have him (Can't have him)

I might just die, it would make no difference

Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood)

Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up

Fuck it if I can't have us

I might just not get up,I might stay

Rafe sighed and looked at Jj. “What the fuck are you doing here man?”

“I wanted to see her,” he mumbled.

“You fucked her up, get out,” Rafe was baring his teeth. “I’m not telling you twice.”

“Please-” he tried but Rafe just sighed. 

Down bad (Like I lost my twin)

Fuck it if I can't have him (I'm down bad)

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

The summer months passed, you went to the mainland for an internship and slowly tried to forget about Jj. He forgot about you. You dreamt of him every night, wished for him every day.You left thousands of messages. 

He didn’t read them.

Like I lost my twin

Fuck it if I can't have him

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

[mtkay13]

The peach blossoms are blooming

Lol @the fancy title, haha. Yesterday I promised "two hoboxu's today!" but I'm an inconsistant liar so the second is today and not yesterday, HAH.

Anyway, another painting of my very beloved; more about this piece below!

So aside of the obvious joke, what I really wanted to work on and represent on this picture is, as the title makes it clearer, grief, and what it looks like for ZZS.

The idea came from imagining ZZS setting off, happy with his disguise, and passing by a peach tree orchards and seeing all the peach blossoms blooming, and what it would entail.

...So let's talk about what TYK is about again, shall we?

(usual caveat: those are my thoughts and interpretations etc etc)

Little is known of the four years that separate the end of QY and the beginning of TYK. Even less is obviously stated when it comes to the reasons why ZZS has put in the nails, besides the obvious "requirement to leave Tian Chuang" part.

So, trying to leave all headcanons and other suppositions aside, and looking at what the text gives us, one of the main "storylines" of ZZS' personal journey across both books seems to be: dealing with the loss of LJX, first of their relationship, and later, of LJX entirely.

>I'm going to boldly announce that (I think) TYK is in great parts a story about getting over grief, or rather, properly living with grief.

Needless to say that it is clear that ZZS has a bunch of issues he's dealing with, including "the void after meeting your goals; what's next?" and some form of burnout from completely over-exerting himself and going way beyond what he thought he could sustain mentally; but also. Four years after he lost LJX, ZZS is still deeply grieving. Still seeing him in crowds, still thinking about him frequently, still hallucinating him, dreaming of him. He couldn't resist taking in ZCL because ZCL reminded him of LJX. Nearly every single thought of his own past ends up rooting back to LJX.

The first time he mentions LJX's name out loud in TYK, chapter 41, is the first time he mentions it at all in four years, and to quote the text:

Speaking out his name hadn't been that big of a deal, in the end; it had only felt like something had been pulled out of his chest—like he was now missing a piece, like it left behind an empty void.

(TYK ch41, TL by me)

The next scene is when it hits ZZS that he's going to die; from that moment on, ZZS starts feeling stupid, ZZS slowly starts wanting to find a solution, influenced by WKX... and the story culminates with ZZS making the opposite decision that he made in QY: instead of risking never seeing WKX alive again, and against WKX's decision, he goes to meet him, unlike LJX whom he was too scared to go meet, and lost forever without even saying goodbye.

>I think that ZZS essentially took the nails because he couldn't manage to live with that grief, basically. (I know, I KNOW there are other reasons, but for the sake of analyzing this theme, I find interesting to look at it from this angle; how the narrative shifts towards ZZS putting in the efforts to stay alive at the exact same times he starts letting go of LJX literally.) And then, as he learns, as he rediscovers life differently, the story becomes about getting free from the nails, about actially living with that grief rather than dying because of it.

*coughs* so, hum, yes. This is what I wanted to represent. What grief looks like, at this stage of melancholic, happy, self-deprecating acceptance of freedom through death—freedom of the burden of grief and guilt. It's a bittersweet feeling, but the way I see it, he smiles out of what he thinks is inner peace, resignation, and once again, self-deprecation.

I would go even deeper, in that ZZS' relationship to death with regards to LJX is quite complex and difficult, given how he was told by LJX himself that he ought to die for what he's done (or misunderstood LJX saying so), but that's a whole other can of worms and I don't have the brain juice to go there again (since it wouldn't even be the first time iirc). SO YEAH, again, grief, but ZZS style: turned into a bit of a melancholic, silly, but gentle joke, and with a smile on the face. On brand with TYK as well.

Cheers!

[kwop-kilawtley]

Bella’s depression months/suicidal tendencies/ hallucinations in New Moon are not “romantic,” sorry. It’s just horrible how traumatized she is. Imagine being a 17 y/o girl who never dated anyone and the first person you date is a mythical creature who essentially is the idea of perfection. It knocks down your self esteem even more, makes you feel embarrassed for not being enough and then after you almost died at the hands of others of his kind, he leaves. Leaves you for dead.

How is it romantic that she now sees no worth in her own humanity? That she deems life useless without him. Then Jacob comes along and makes her see life can be good again. She falls in love with Jacob naturally and effortlessly. If Edward and Bella were truly “fated” and “meant to be,” Bella wouldn’t be so in love with Jacob the way that she is. Jacob is the only person who truly understands her and he would do anything for her. He would protect her and keep her alive.

Bella choosing Edward is literally suicide and allows her to be stunted, to not fix her self esteem issues. Yet this is supposed to be romantic somehow?? The text literally leads you to believe that Bella will grow and get out of her depression with the help of Jacob. And he totally could have because she could’ve been open about the vampire secret since he knew about them too. It only makes sense in my mind she chose him. She actually has fun with him, he understands her personality better than Edward, understands her mind better than Edward. Their love is so intense that she even says she may have actually chosen Jacob if she hadn’t known what losing Edward felt like. She was so deeply traumatized by him leaving she couldn’t even bear the thought of having to heal. But she almost did. She could have.

The fact Bella cannot let Jacob go all throughout Eclipse even after Edward comes back is proof that she’s not fated to be with Edward. Literally no matter how many times I read these books I will never see it that way even though her narrative wants you to believe that in the end. Like sorry but having cutesy quotes and ogling over his physical perfection every second without there really being true reason behind it, just doesn’t hit for me. They were together for mere months and she’s already talking about “I want to be with you forever.” Like yeah that was me in high school too with the first person who ever gave me attention. I didn’t know any better tho. Now pair that with someone who literally hypnotizes humans lol.. yeah she didn’t stand a chance. Yet her lack of autonomy is romantic? Gross. She even says “it’s like Sam & Emily, I never had a choice.” How does anyone find this romantic LMAO.

If Bella had no feelings for Jacob and he had no good aspects of him and he wasn’t trying to keep Bella alive the whole goddamn time then no one would be for Jacob. But she literally is in love with him, it’s just not “magical” bullshit love. Which doesn’t even make sense for her btw. She doesn’t have any development whatsoever. Vampirism is just her bandaid and Jacob and the entire wolfpack are done dirty.

She tries to die and hear voices of her ex who abandoned her yet that’s romantic lmfao. New moon is legit based off of Romeo & Juliet, a tragedy where they both die. Bella & Edward simply shouldn’t have had a happy ending. Naturally it doesn’t make sense that they do, which is why breaking dawn is such a shit show. Because their relationship just doesn’t make sense and only harms them and everyone around them.

& before anyones like “it’s just a fantasy stop analyzing it wahh” no <3 these books shaped my way of viewing relationships as a teenager and it should be talked about how harmful some of the messages in the series are.

[mymarifae]

i just want to share my thoughts about akito and Death. because even now—even off the back of an event like burn my soul—people STILL talk about him like he's an explicitly depressed, suicidal character whose every action is cause for concern.

i think the idea that akito is suicidal has been floating around for a very long time. and while it's not entirely without merit (more on this in a bit), it's still a misconception. and it really feels like kashika exacerbated the issue. which is unfortunate! it's sad to see such a beautiful song be misinterpreted like this.

now don't get me wrong! kashika is about death. but two things:

1. kashika may have been written for akito, but it's not just for him. it's also deeply personal to ryo haruka. there are certainly similarities and haruryo undoubtedly understood everything akito felt during the events that led up to the crawl green incident, but i don't think it's entirely fair to equate his very real emotions and struggles to those of a fictional character. he and akito share kashika! you can interpret it through either lens, but trying to do so through both is where things start getting messy

2. whiiiiich leads me to my second point. who decided that the only way to interpret kashika and its themes of death is literally?

i think it's pretty common for people to automatically interpret any themes of death literally—or at least very negatively. we're naturally conditioned to fear death, and then we're taught to fear it even more. it's the change. it's the unknown. it's the very idea of an "end." most people aren't very fond of these things! understandably so. but personally? i think the symbolism that can exist behind death is beautiful.

Death is the 13th card of the major arcana. above all else, it symbolizes change (positive change; it's always, always about what's ultimately best for you). Death tells you it's time to move forward; this part of your life is done. there is more waiting for you—new opportunities, new experiences, a brighter, more fulfilling future—but you must be prepared to let go.

the habits and routines you have now? the mindsets that have kept you alive? your current sense of self? whatever it is, whatever Death is asking for, you have to let it "die." it won't serve you anymore. it will only drag you down. and it might be terrifying and you might not be able to comprehend what lies ahead and you might want to kick and scream and struggle, but you can't cling forever. endings are never easy, and sometimes they hurt like hell, but with each end comes a new beginning.

and yes if you've read burn my soul this should all sound very familiar lol:

looking at death from this perspective, kashika and the entirety of find a way out should read a lot more like akito caught on the cusp of a monumental transformation. suspended between "life" (the old) and "death" (the new) so to speak.

up to this point he's been fueled by spite and desperation. two very intense, very negative emotions—but it's an intensity that worked. everyone else on vivid street had years of musical experience, and he had 0. he needed to catch up and he needed to catch up quickly because it's not like he could put the whole world on pause. he could take his time to learn the basics, sure, but every other vivid street musician would continue improving and growing while he did that. there would always be a gap between him and Them.

unless... he worked harder—WAY harder—than all of them combined.

and maybe that wouldn't do it either. maybe he would be stuck in place forever, always playing catch-up, always struggling to stay afloat, always being left behind. he knew this. and he knew the amount of destruction he'd end up inflicting upon himself if he went down this path. but in his mind, it was okay. it was worth it. because he'd rather die endlessly pursuing what he loves most than live not trying at all.

but in find a way out, when facing off against his old bullies, he starts to realize that he was wrong. he's not just stuck in place. he bridged the gap a long time ago, and he almost didn't even notice. and where he's going now, spite and desperation are the wrong emotions to sing from. he needs to let the unhealthy, extreme mindsets die, but also it's hard to let go of something when you would have given up a long long long LONG time ago without it.

but with time, and enough poking and prodding from ken and luka, he does it. he lets go. he lets the old parts of him die, and he passes on to the next stage of his life.

akito's character arc has always been about growth. improvement. learning. Becoming Better. and not just in a musical sense although Yes That Is A Huge Part Of It. his arc is also about his growth as a person. it's about him becoming more confident, and learning how to be kinder and more patient with both himself and other people. it's about him learning how to let his walls down and let his loved ones in. and to trust that they won't start kicking him to death once they're in there.

it's about him learning to exchange the Spite and Desperation for Passion and Love.

it's about him becoming happier.

which is why it's so fucking startling when people talk about him like he's suicidal and on the verge of a breakdown. like, woah, what?

as i said though, kashika isn't the only source of this misconception and i find more merit in the other sources because they're actual aspects of his character and scenes in the story and not song lyrics that shouldn't have been read so literally in the first place. like, yeah. we've seen a ton of unhealthy behavior out of akito. he's had a very extreme perspective on his place in the world from a super early age, and while the severity frequently gets exaggerated in fanon spaces, the shinonome household isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows.

he's been moody, he's been prickly and abrasive, he's lashed out. he keeps most people at arm's length and builds walls so high not even toya can get through them at first. he had to! he wouldn't have survived if he didn't! like, he was targeted and bullied by a group of adults when he first started singing on vivid street. that is actually a genuinely traumatizing thing to happen to a kid!

so no, i'm not against the idea that akito has experienced depression and suicidal ideation in the past. kinda comes naturally with the territory he ended up in. but that's the key word: past.

i get confused when the idea is dragged into the present. because again! the whole point of his character arc is he's overcome all that PAST adversity! recovery isn't linear but we're not about to see him hit rock bottom any time soon. or ever, actually. you know why? because we've already seen his rock bottom. stray bad dog. that event was his big breakdown moment. that's what opened him up to try to start healing.

we're not getting another stray bad dog. stop expecting another stray bad dog.

he's alright, i promise. he's growing up. he's gotten better. he knows he belongs in vivid bad squad. he knows he's loved. he knows his friends will be there to catch him when he falls. he's always been strong, but now he's even stronger. he's excited for his future, and i think we should be too.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 22

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 22: in your nature

WARNING: a little graphic/gruesome; also very long lol

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

"You doing okay?" Husker asked.

We were sitting out on the porch again. He had his bottle of liquor in hand and I had his phone. I was looking through for more shirts since I—well, Alastor—had gotten blood on some of mine. I was using my Human form and resting my cheek on my fist.

"Always," I responded. I kept scrolling through the website in search of my size. Most of the stores didn't have mine in stock at their locations. I had read an article some time ago, when I had snuck Husker's phone, about how clothes could be ordered in any size at any time to be delivered within a few days. That was before the Great Collapse.

Husker and I stayed outside in the cool summer breeze until dusk. He managed to coax me into talking about the ring fights when I was a kid and I managed to get him to talk about his own life.

He grew up on the surface with his mother, never knowing his father, and got himself into gambling at casinos. He was born after the collapse and supposedly worked with Human Alastor at some point. He wouldn't go into detail because it eventually lead to his deal with the Radio Demon. Since serving Alastor, he's been spending a lot of time in Hell until he was brought up to watch me.

I tried a different store through his phone for clothes. He disappeared inside for another bottle of alcohol. Now that the pretty sky had turned dark, I was about ready to follow him inside. I let out a heavy sigh and stood up.

Then I froze.

I could hear something. It was a buzzing sound. It was close, as if right beneath me but the floorboards were the only thing there. I let my Demon ears show to hear better, quickly discovering the noise coming from Husker's phone.

I clicked open the phone to see a bright blue screen. Rings of red pulsed through the screen and I felt a strange buzz going through my jaw and into my head. I felt a weird, spikey energy pushing into my shields. I immediately strengthened them and shoved the presence away, my eyes never leaving the screen.

The phone began to grow hot. I tried to let go but I couldn't force my fingers to unravel. Something sharp pinched my hand and ran all throughout my body. I tried to retract but my whole body felt like it was being electrocuted. Everything shook uncontrollably.

I fell backwards, my entire body painfully tense as the spikes of electricity faded from my bones. I opened my eyes to a large, extravagant, and bright red room. There were huge windows on one side of the room and everything outside seemed just as red.

"Well hello, my dear." Vox stepped in my view and held out a blue clawed hand. "Welcome to the Vees." He put his hand in my face until I finally took it and let him help me to my feet. He stood a head taller than me.

"Why am I here?" I asked. I caught sight of two Overlords sitting on the couch behind him. One of them was the ring owner who had tried to drug me. Ponytails was the other one.

"I tried to send you an invitation but you know how Alastor is with technology," Vox laughed, his smile wide across his flat screen face. "We never got to properly meet with the whole ring fight and all."

That's when it clicked. He had been the announcer. I knew I recognized his voice.

"What do you want?" my tone hardened.

"Just a friendly chat. Is that too much to ask these days?"

"You tried to kill me."

"I tried to have you killed," he clarified, sticking his claw close to my face, "I didn't lay a finger on you." My expression didn't lessen, my tail whipping side to side behind me. I could feel the ring owner trying to push through my shields.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Did Alastor not tell you about me?" He put his hands over his heart.

"He doesn't really talk about himself." I scrunched my nose so my sharp teeth poked through my lips.

"Surely he told you about his dear old pal? His best friend?"

"I didn't know he had those." That made all three Ovelords laugh. They laughed for awhile and Vox fell onto the couch wiping away an electronic tear.

"Wow, you really are his soulmate."

I grimaced at Vox's words. My ears fell back a little and I shifted my feet, ignoring the offer to sit beside him.

"You know~," the ring owner lulled his word, making the room serious again, "we could keep you out of his hands if you hate him so much."

"I don't need to be kept anywhere. And please stop trying to get in my head." I shoved against his presence again and he backed off, finally putting some space between us.

"It's my understanding you hate being with Alastor," Vox said, "Husker is quite the good cop, isn't he?"

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've heard anything and everything you've been saying. I know how you want to learn magic. How youuu...want to be at his level one day but that'll take hundreds of years. Am I getting that right?"

My scowl grew.

"Alastor can't and won't kill me, and certainly not the three of us together. You'd be safe here to do anything you want."

"In exchange for what?" I snapped. Something wasn't sitting right with me about this conversation. There was something hiding.

"Work for us. We don't need you to do a ton of work but it would only make it fair to let you stay here."

Ponytails was looking at her phone half the time and the ring owner stared at me through his ridiculous tinted glasses.

I didn't trust that Alastor wouldn't kill Vox and his friends. Vox sounded incredibly egotistical and too proud to admit someone could better him. Yet if they were good friends, would Alastor spare his life? I couldn't even trust that information either.

"I would need some time to think," I said. I needed to get out of here, out of Hell. I had no idea how to get out of Hell or teleport anywhere. But I could run to Rosie's. She's an Overlord, too.

"Oh of course," Vox stood, "I wouldn't want you to feel pressured into anything. I can show you to a secluded room to give you time to think." He stepped closer to me.

"That's not necessary," I tried to play off. I backed up until my tail touched a door.

"Canibal Town is on the other side of the Pentagram, my dear. Where do you intend to go?"

How was he reading my thoughts? All three of them were still outside my shields. Unless he's been watching and listening since the beginning.

"This isn't my first time in Hell," I feigned. The others had stood up and I could feel energy and magic building up in the room. It felt like three cats ready to pounce on a cornered mouse. I grabbed the handle behind my back and subtly tested it.

"The broadcast will start in a few hours, surely you'll want to hear it." Vox's smile was big and his one eye pulsed black and red. I felt a buzz down my spine and looked at Ponytails. The buzz went away as I kept them well outside my shield.

"Husker and I plan to listen, don't worry." My claws were digging into my palm and I swore I could feel blood crawling down it.

"That wasn't a request, dear."

The room went still. The three of them stared at me, his pulsing eye stopped, and I held my breath. My grip was painfully tight on the door handle, probably smearing blood on it in the process. My shields still held. It felt like they were pulling back a slingshot, waiting to let go.

So I moved first.

I casted a gust of wind and slipped out the door. My foot claws tapped on the floor as I sprinted down the extravagant hallways. I didn't know where I was going. How do I get out? There were other Demons around but none of them stopped me.

Vox appeared like lightning out of various security cameras. His laugh vibrated through the hallways as he tried to herd me in a certain direction. I slid down various staircases, using my wings to brace my falls.

Vox appeared in front of me again. I skidded to a halt and lowered myself to the ground on four legs. I snarled at him through my heavy breathing. His toothy smile was wide across his screen as he told me running was useless.

Sweat dripped down my nose. I gathered it together and casted it into the wind. I brought it around his head and into the back where his circuits were. His screen turned a fuzzy white then a rainbow. His whole body jerked violently and collapsed into the wall.

I jumped past his body and finally came to a lobby. I could see the red buildings through the glass walls. An alarm went off and gray walls started moving down the glass ones. I went down on all fours again and sprinted for the exit. I casted fire first then a freezing gust of wind. I turned my head and braced.

I threw my body into the glass right under the closing wall. It cracked and gave way, making me land on the top of my shoulder and onto my back. I felt the glass shards sticking into my back as I scrambled to my feet.

Demons around stopped to stare. I didn't. I ran down the nearest street and then the next. I zig zagged, slipping past small and huge Demons on the way. I needed to get up to find Rosie's territory. So I jumped on the nearest dumpster and onto a roof.

Hell was a city. I had thought it would be much bigger.

A drone buzzed overhead. I recognized the color as belonging to Vox. I started jumping over the roofs in a desperate attempt to find Rosie's. Everything looked the exact same in this horrid shade of red.

I landed on the next roof and was thrown off my feet. I hit the opposing wall and fell into an alley. Everything hurt as I slowly pushed myself up to my feet. Three large Demons and several small ones stood on either side of the alley. They had various weapons in hand, most of which were a bright white.

I stood on two feet and put my back against the wall. My shadow stretched above me, opened her wings, and let out a howl. Eyes turned to her and I took the opening. I casted wind and debris down both sides to push them off their feet. I opened my wings and flapped up to the roof.

A gunshot went off and my leg hit the edge. I dug my claws into the rooftop as the pain and my own weight dragged me down. A rope wrapped around my wing and a sharp jerk brought me all the way back down. I landed on my side with a snap somewhere in my ribs. I clung to my injured leg and pulled myself against the wall.

The group crowded around me, holding the bright white weapons. I snarled and imagined myself getting bigger. I lunged forward and closed my jaws around one of their legs. I casted the others away like nothing and lifted the Demon up by his leg. His screams filled my ears and he desperately failed to pry open my jaw.

I turned my head mad threw him down the alley. I towered well over the others now, my shadow three times it's usual size. It started attacking one group of Demons as I turned my attention to the other one. Their eyes were wide with fear, hands shaking. I licked the blood from my lips and found myself wanting more.

I was huge now. A true dragon. I trapped many of them under my huge claws and caught more in my large mouth. Their little knives were bug bites and their blood a sweet nectar. I pulled apart, crushed, and swallowed each and every one of them. Their energy faded from their bodies and joined with mine, spurring me on even further.

I searched for more victims but there were none left. I turned in circles several times, limping slightly from the bullet wound on my leg. My broken rib pinched something with some of my movements. My shadow had bright white eyes and teeth, desperately searching for victims too.

Then I saw a figure. I took one step then stopped. It was Striker.

"Well well, ain't this a nice surprise." His one tooth glinted when he smiled. I felt the fear rising in my chest and making my new form grow smaller. I pushed the fear down to replace it with anger. I swayed from side to side as I waited for him to act first. "Had no idea you were a Demon."

My lips pulled back in a snarl.

He reached behind him and pulled out a bright white rope. He started looping it and moving it at his side, ready to throw. I lowered my head and tensed my working muscles. I could feel my fear reaching through my arms and into my fingers. I could do this. I bet his blood tasted sweeter than any other Demon.

A knife buried itself in my thigh. I howled and turned to bite the Demon in half. Rope caught my upper jaw and jerked it back. I dug my claws into the ground and pulled sharply, dragging Striker closer. I reared up on my good leg and slammed my front claws down on him. He jumped out of the way, casting another rope over my head. It tightened around my throat and I felt my magic slipping from my fingers.

He threw another one around my good leg, swiftly pulling me off my feet. I rolled over in an effort to crush him but he was too fast. He cast more rope around my other limbs and tossed them to other Demons. Where did they all come from?

I tried casting wind but nothing happened. My magic was gone. No energy, no magic, nothing. I felt cold.

Striker jumped on my horns and his weight pulled them back. I tried rolling again but I only tangled myself further in the rope. He jumped on top of my head and his weight plus the rope brought it down on the ground. I felt like a fly caught in a spider's web.

"Still no match for me." Striker stepped off my face, whipping his tail against my snout. He knelt down and pressed his claws into my scaly skin. I winced at the pain and tried pulling free. Demons were all over me, pulling from in front, behind, overhead, and on top of me. "I will always surpass your magic. You're not skilled enough to take me on."

My lips pulled back in a smile, though it looked like a snarl. I didn't have the magic skills, but I had other skills.

I let the fear overwhelm me and my figure shrunk back to its normal size. I pulled my limbs free and my shadow threw the ropes far away. Striker lunged and I rolled backwards, sending him over my head with my good leg. He rolled forward then snaked back in seconds.

I grew my tail and hit him into the wall. I choked on another rope that was still wound on my neck. I slipped my hands under and threw my body forward. I leaned back to loosen it and pulled it off. I casted a huge gust of wind that sent the Demons back.

The white ropes stopped my magic.

Striker countered the wind and pierced through my funnel. He threw a knife into my tail and reached for my throat. My tired leg couldn't hold him back. His claws closed around my neck and my vision started to blacken. I raked my own claws down his face and he howled, pulling away.

I dragged myself to my feet and leaned everything into the wall. He came again, bleeding black ooze, and clocked me in the side of the face. He wrapped an arm around my neck but tucked my chin and threw my elbow up into his chin.

He kicked behind my good knee and I fell. He slammed my face into the ground before holding it up by my hair. His knee dug into my shoulders, contorting my body in different directions. I let out a cry from the pain.

"You can't beat me," his hissed in my ear. My energy was gone. I just wanted to stop. But I couldn't.

"No," I struggled, "but I can fight you." I reached up and poked him in the eyes. I pulled against his tight grip and shoved off the wall. I fell on him and he threw me off into the opposite wall. I tried to get up to my knees but my limbs wouldn't support my weight anymore.

Striker stepped toward me. His head jerked to the side as something caught his attention. His eyes widened and he took a few steps back. I could hear Demons screaming and being torn apart. He looked between me and it, trying to decide once again if I was worth the new threat.

A shadow—Alastor's shadow—crawled up the wall. It's wide mouth opened in a screech at Striker. It smothered around him, attacking and throwing him off his feet.

"This isn't over radio fossil!" he yelled, disappearing down the street.

I let out a sigh. The pain was slowly reaching my mind, telling my brain that everything was hurt or broken. I swallowed and slowly, carefully, pushed myself on my back. My chest heaved for air but my ribs wouldn't let me inhale enough oxygen.

Alastor walked over to me, his arms folded behind him with his cane. I couldn't tell which smile he was wearing so I assumed he was angry. My claws scratched the concrete as pain pulsed through my body.

"Alastor...I..." It was getting harder to breathe. "I didn't...he took me. I...I didn't leave—" pain cut off my words. I squeezed my eyes shut as it rocked through my spine and into head.

"I'm aware." He pressed his claws around my temples and I felt the pain dull. He slipped his arms under my shoulders and legs, lifting me up effortlessly. "Take a look, my dear."

I opened my eyes to see the alley littered with dead and deformed bodies. There had to be at least thirty dead Demons.

"That was all you."

My shoulders fell with my spirit. I had killedall of them. I had even eaten some of them. Their sweet blood still lingered on my tongue and I found myself wishing for more. I could see their scared faces in my mind and feel my heart quicken at the mere thought of them being terrified. They had all been so scared when I had transformed.

Alastor turned the other way but I stared at the site over his shoulder. I actually wanted him to let me go so I could do it again. The energy from all of them still buzzed in my body despite the overwhelming exhaustion.

"I told you dear," my ear flicked at his voice, tears streaming down my cheeks and claws digging into his shoulders, "it's in your nature."

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

Author's Note:

Only like one more chapter before we get to the gooood stuff :P

[satancopilotsmytardis]

SpiderShig and Catbi are so freaking cute together, so much trust and love and Dabi getting left and absolute mess.

I am curious though, how did they go from spite fucking with a bar hook up to a functional and loving relationship?

They make my heart warm 🥰

So they actually started talking that night because of Dabi's ego and spite and Tomura's general chillness and willingness to watch someone drive straight into a brick wall just to see how their car crumples. The thing is, though, that they didn't fuck that night. Shig took Dabi to his nest and they had a couple more drinks and chatted, but neither of them had ever slept with anyone else yet. Dabi didn't want to have kids and wrapping it isn't really a thing with the barbs on the dick, most people don't want that inside them anyway, and inter-species pairings aren't really treated kindly in this version of the world. Tomura never slept with anyone because he didn't want to fucking die or have his genitals removed by his partner. So they hung out that night, but Dabi claimed that he had a filthy raunchy night when he came home the next day because Enji was giving him shit about being out.

And Enji did what Enji always does, and used that as an excuse to kick him out. Dabi was, of course, not in a good place after that, and had to go back, with his tail between his legs and ask the guy he barely knew if he could stay with him for a little while until he found some different work in town and could afford to get a place of his own since his siblings would be cut off if they helped him. Shig felt a little bad himself for the cat and let him stay. The heavy petting sessions really were just to keep Dabi from getting all of his fur/hair ripped out on his silk at first, at first. But of course, during one of those, they both started to get really hot and had to separate for a bit, with Tomura really worried that Dabi coming onto him afterward was him trying to 'pay him back' for letting him stay at his place.

It took them about a month before they broke under the sexual tension and they got off together for the first time, Dabi finding out that spiders have two dicks, Tomura finding out the barbs on Dabi's dick wouldn't hurt him. Once they figured out that they were compatible in bed, and with Tomura being a hunter who was entirely self-sufficient from the village anyway (apart from the occasional luxuries like booze which he trades pelts and silk for) Dabi was given the invitation to stay indefinitely as his mate, and more or less is Tomura's sugar baby now.

I also headcanon that Tomura weaves his silk into pretty clothes for Dabi to wear in town so that he is always dressed like he's more well-off than Enji. He still gets to see his siblings and he and his mate are doing very well together. The softness and affection came from them being on their own and relying on each other to be an understanding ear. And now they get to have great sex every day too lol.

Thanks for commenting!

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch. 3

A/N: here's a continuation of the pain lol hopefully next update will come quicker and I hope you all enjoy! Be warned here and the series as a whole is pretty heavy emotionally, so heed all warnings and put yourself first! Also as usual shoutout to my lovely beta reader @rapline-heaux who read this forever ago lol ily

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.0k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect/academic neglect, talk of stitches, wound description, panic attack, acrylic nail slips on a keyboard but doesn't break, brief suicidal thought, lip biting until it bleeds, abandonment by male parental guardian, lots of crying

Silence threaded into the air, making it that much harder to breathe as Jungkook’s hands limply slid from you and back to his sides. The bubble of ignorance you shrouded each other in, now effectively popped as the world was de-muffled as your hands were now clasped in front of you. Tears welled in the back of your eyes, stinging more than usual, and no matter how much you blinked to keep them at bay they just came back. Nothing could shroud the horror that was your reality. 

It’s funny, really, you remember learning about how to create a safe space for your patients in college. You learned how important it was for children to feel safe in development. You studied all the reasons safety was so vital to survival, and yet, you never once felt safe growing up. It was only in this moment you realized you had found your safe place. 

It was only as you watched the weekly dinners, cramming sessions, and mutually intoxicated affection go up in smoke that you realized you had just lost it. Everything you never thought you could have was in flames, and one would think you would be used to the feeling of your life on fire by now, but your throat still burned with the agony of it all, no matter how familiar the taste was on your tongue. 

Hurt flooded your eyes along with tears that Jungkook wanted nothing more than to gently brush away. But he knew shouldn’t, and now more than ever, he couldn’t. He didn’t know how you knew what it meant to be the head of Bangtan, and it was so hard for him to care as your fear and sorrow burnt a hole in his heart in the very space he kept the friendship you both shared. The gaping wound was only furthered by how much it took over his being. You both cared about each other much, much, more than you both let on to one another properly, and it’s only now he’s regretting that with his entire being. 

Finally, he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore, not when he was part of the reason you were looking at him like that. He looked at the beaten faux hardwood of your apartment and could feel an ache when he noticed the scratch from when he helped rearrange your living room furniture. Truly, he’d give anything to go back to that day, or even to when he got here so he could turn off the TV and delay the inevitable. 

He didn’t even get a chance to try and pretend there was no reason to be scared. He wanted so badly to pretend he was a sugar baby who has no idea who he was dating, but he just couldn’t. You both have lied to each other enough to last a lifetime, and he knew it was too late. What you both had has already slipped through his fingers before he even had a chance to try and catch it.

You exhaled a shaky breath, and he looked at you again. There was not even a semblance of hope on his face, and it made the part of you he revived die all over again, “...should probably go, huh?” Your voice was too mangled for Jungkook to hear the first part of what you said, but it certainly didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

Your form grew blurry as tears clouded his vision, preventing him from committing your feature to his memory properly before it was too late, “You’re right.” He settled solemnly.

Neither yours nor his tears were helped when you each noticed the other was crying. You wanted so badly to be angry at him for lying to you, but you weren’t nearly that much of a hypocrite. You both used the other as an escape from the ugliness of reality. Around Jungkook you were nothing but his friend and vice versa. It was a sweet escape, a nice vacation, but certainly nothing more than that, not anymore. 

You had to figure out if you should disappear or if you could survive with simply moving out of the building. You had phone calls to old contacts to make, you had a million and one things to figure out, a million and one pieces to move and yet you threw your arms around the man in front of you. 

Jungkook wasted no time in holding you to him with an intensity you’d never felt before. No one had ever wanted to keep you this badly, and you didn’t know what to do other than ball your fists around his shirt and silently cry into his shoulder. Your arms tightened around his neck as you counted down the mere minutes before he also figured out who you were. You knew he would leave you, replay each moment leading up to this, and figure out who you were talking to. You just didn’t know what he would do with that information. You didn’t even know for sure how much it meant to him, but it was so hard to focus when his body shook against yours with a silent sob that you echoed with ease. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be gracious enough to look the other way for just a little bit so you could touch the bedroom wall you both shared and pretend it wasn’t there tonight.

You don’t know how long you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms, soaking in the finality of the embrace, bones heavy with melancholy. You only remembered the look you gave one another, filled to the brim with tears, longing, and an insincere hatred of everything beyond the four walls of your apartment. Slowly, you leaned up and pressed a quivering kiss to his cheek. 

A harsh breath left Jungkook and you could feel his tears on your lips when you pulled away, “Close your eyes.” He pleaded, voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t want you to see me leave you.” The plea for him to not leave was on the tip of your tongue, but you choked it down with another cry.

You nodded, and he granted you one last smile before you let your wet lashes touch each other. Your world was shrouded in darkness and part of you knew it would remain this way long after you opened them to an empty apartment. Still, you squeezed your eyes shut, not too keen on seeing Jungkook leave you either. You swallowed back a cry when he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your lips as you counted the steps he took to your door. Your body quaked when you could feel him giving you one final look. Your lips struggled to give him one more smile, and then the door closed. 

Your knees hit the floor with no one there to catch you anymore. The shock waves slid up your thigh as you cried into your hands, wondering how many people were going to leave you before you stopped letting them in.

—

“Let go of me, please,” It was the first time you had heard your father say please, and it was one of the last things you would hear him say. Byungyeol looked at you, eyes filled with a mix of pity and sorrow that you couldn’t decipher if it was for you or the empire that lay in ashes. Regardless, it was an order and you weren’t raised to disobey, so you finally relented and released his torso from your arms with a trembling lip and a river that flowed freely from your eyes. The last time you cried in front of him like this had been when your age was in the single digits, but he didn’t patronize you this time– he no longer had any reason to. 

“I can’t… You can’t… Please, stay with me.” You begged, very becoming of the heir to nothing as you clung to the last person who could prove you were even alive before today, “I’m so scared of being alone-” You sobbed into your hands as you both sat in a car outside of a restaurant owned by a family friend. You had nothing but a backpack with cash and two days worth of clothing, but your biggest fear was leaving this car. 

“Daughter.” His voice commanded, and you straightened up. You looked at him, eyes bleary and wide, still a puppet waiting for orders. He regarded you with a sharp glare, “We do not show fear.” His tone was finite, it alway was. He always spoke in simple commands, because even now, he didn’t expect you to say anything in response.

However, you sniffled, “I am scared.” You admitted, the closest you’d gotten to defiance in over a decade, “I can’t do this alone.” 

“And yet, you will.” His voice was the same amount of cold it had always been, but it burned you nonetheless, “You must.” Something in his voice tapered off that made you look at him a little closer. He looked so… old. You could see the years in his eyes and in the deep rivets that framed his frown, and it made something in your chest twist. 

“Should’ve left me with them, huh?” You asked, and he looked at you with confusion, “Should’ve never taken me in, I bet?” You tried to ask again, but he couldn’t understand you. It was often hard to understand if you were asking if that’s how he felt or if you were admitting that’s how you felt. You were never taught how to make it clear, after all. No one ever cared for your words. 

Instead of prying or correcting you, he shook his head. His hand on your head quieted you. “I love you,” He whispered, kissing the top of your head, and the notion made your body freeze. The feeling was foreign, and the action was something that was usually reserved for holidays, “I rarely ever say it, but know that I do, my daughter,” He said softly, but he opened your door all the same, not wanting to entertain this goodbye for any longer, “We will see each other again, I promise, give me three years and we’ll be together again, a normal family.” 

—

You knew now it had all been nothing but a lie to get you out of the car so he could watch you grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until you dissolved into nothing but a memory. You didn't think your father was even really capable of love in the first place. You’d give anything at the moment to be that cold, but you could certainly fake it. You let in a shaky breath as you looked to your fingertips, your ring one brushing along the scratch on the floor you were not looking forward to letting your security deposit go to. Brushing away the tears away from the streaks that have undoubtedly dried on already, you took one last moment to be upset, to be human, before you stood to pick up your phone. 

The line only rang once before it clicked, “Thank you for calling The Rose Palace, how can I help you?” A sweet feminine voice hardly touched with the age she was filled your ears.

“Eunhwa?” You breathed, wanting more than anything to feel her maternal embrace but settling for the concern in her voice.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” Your eyes fluttered closed when your one last tie to your previous life spoke.

“No.” Your answer was far too honest, but you grew so sick of lying today, “I, uh, need you to tell me how fucked I am.” You sniffled, pressing your eyes shut so you would stop looking at that damn scratch on the floor.

—

Jungkook was thankful when he found his apartment empty as he slid his back down the door, slumping against it on the floor defeatedly. His head hung low as he rested his arms on his knees. He shook his head, wanting more than anything to wake up from this nightmare already. 

Every moment with you this morning circled in his mind like a broken record. It was torturous, but it was all he could do to face the reality of the situation. If he couldn’t keep you in his life, he had to at least figure out why. Had Bangtan done something to hurt you? Or had they hurt your family somehow? Did you even have any family for them to hurt? Fuck, where did it all go wrong?

He got himself stuck in this loop of questioning for an indeterminate amount of time as he ran through every millisecond of his time with you today. Every time he circled back, he always got stuck on that phone call. That phone call was the catalyst of the ruin he was in the throes of right now and something about it just… didn’t sit right with him. How often did coworkers call you for it to make sense? Sure, you could’ve lied, he’d hardly be in a place to judge, but then who else could it have been? 

Suddenly keeping as much of yourselves private from each other felt like a mistake. Now that the people you both became in the presence of one another have effectively died, he’s left with nothing to do but cling to the you he never got to know. It’s an addiction, really. He should just be mourning the civillian distraction of his real life, but he knew you were so much more than a distraction, it’s just the first time he’s really feeling it. He couldn’t let you go, and he refused to even if he had the ability. He needed to figure out why it all went up in flames before he even considered mourning. 

—

“I won’t lie to you, darling, but I will ask, do you want the good news or bad news first?” Eunhwa finally spoke after listening intently to your panicked word vomit.

You blew out a shallow sigh, “Bad news.” It would be pretty difficult for your day to get any worse at this point. 

“Right.” Your former nanny had a nostalgic lilt to her voice before speaking, “Since the capture of your uncle and with the anniversary week in full swing, it would be pretty difficult to find someone in the underground willing to help you… in the way you may need help.” She spoke delicately, “The whispers suggest Bangtan isn’t going to stop with your uncle, and the whereabouts of your father and even you are… well, high ticket items, if you understand what I mean.” 

“Yeah.” You struggled out. You knew all too well what she meant. In a world where the most important currency is power, almost anything was for sale in the Underworld’s market, especially information. You knew firsthand there were few things people wouldn’t do to get in the good graces of the syndicate in power, and you were more thankful than ever that the only active tie to your life before wouldn’t sell you out. Not that she would ever need to. Eunhwa was and always has been a well-respected figure in the underground, and she’s mastered the rare skill of neutrality while maintaining respect. 

“And unless you have your father’s whereabouts to offer, it wouldn’t be wise to voluntarily come forward.” Or else they’d kill you on the spot. She spared you the detail, but you understood what she meant, “Good news is, after all of the mayhem of anniversary week cools down in a few weeks, we’d most likely be able to find someone to help.” Her weak attempt at trying to sound joyful was comforting regardless of how not effective it was on you, “Plus, Jungkook may not even add two and two together before then. I doubt he would be too keen on putting his best friend to death.” 

“Except I’m no longer his best friend.” Your voice cracked with your heart, and you couldn't help that pitiful laugh that left you at how childish you sounded, “So I’m not sure if that would help me.” 

Eunhwa sighs, and you can hear the pity in it. It should make you sick, but this was your last human connection in your personal life, so any care towards you was welcome right now, “Feelings don’t just go away the moment they should, you know that.” She softly chided, “We’ve all loved people for longer than we should’ve, and that might be the fact of life that’ll buy you the time you need.” 

You hummed, not able to say much as her words soaked into your wet cheeks. You loved your father for much longer than you cared to and with Jungkook… Well, the pain would be one you were sure you’d feel for ages.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She said, her voice going up an octave now that the logistics were out of the way, “Right now, just keep your head down and live your life like normal, okay?” 

You hummed again, defeated, “What if I just packed a bag and left?” You mused, looking out the window. You knew why that wasn’t an option. There was no such thing as leaving the underground, especially not on your own. Not with the trail of bodies you’d have to leave behind. All it took was one call, and it would shatter you completely. How would you pay for anything? You were only given enough of a payout for school, everything else was given up. You’d be caught before you even made it to the airport or snuck onto a ship.

“You know better.” Eunhwa breathed, “You would be calling even more attention to yourself, and that would piss Jungkook off and tip him off to who you are at the same time.” You nodded. She always had a point. The fact was that Jungkook didn’t yet know who you were, but you feared it was only a matter of time, “I’ll call you when it’s time.” Was all she said before the line clicked. You almost laughed at the fact that before Jungkook, you were convinced your interactions with Eunhwa was the highest form of affection. Not that she didn’t care about you, it’s just the world she knew was one of keeping those she could love at an arm’s length. It was safest that way, and no one, not even you, was worth jeopardizing her safety. You couldn’t blame her for that, and you could only hope Jungkook would feel the same if he did find out about who you were. 

Even more, you hoped you were long gone before the day came.

—

“I hear you, Sohee, I do, but you cannot just punch at full force everytime you get upset.” You looked at the 16-year-old as you tossed her ice, which she caught with ease and a pout in your direction. Kang Sohee was someone you’d consider a regular in your office. She was a bright student with poor emotional regulation– like most high school students already had– add that to the pressure of being in the top percentile in the nation, meant she was routinely in for her ibuprofen or a pack of ice. 

“Would you rather I hit people?” She challenged but shrank when you gave her an exasperated look as you sat at your desk to type up the incident.

“Raise the bar, kid.” You sighed, “I’d rather you take those deep breaths we’ve rehearsed or punch a pillow or a folded hoodie like we’ve also rehearsed.” You gave her a pointed look, “I don’t want you to break your hand or split your knuckles to the point of needing stitches.” She winced at the thought and you nodded, “Exactly, it would be gruesome and only make you more upset in the end.”

She sighed, nodding, “It’s just…” She trailed off, and you nodded empathetically even though you had no idea what going to high school was like, from what you could tell it was no different than any other cliquey group with a hierarchy. There was significantly less bloodshed, which you were thankful for. 

“I know.” You sighed, “Exams are coming, and emotions are running high.” She nodded at this, “And I’m glad you’re allowing yourself to feel those emotions, I just want you to express them in a way that doesn’t get you or anyone else hurt.” 

She nodded once again, but snorted, “Okay, school counselor.” You sent her another glare as you paused your typing, making her smile. 

Even though you rolled your eyes, you were just glad she was feeling better. These kids had a million different stressors that landed them in your office and led you to need to provide some kind of emotional support. You never figured yourself as good with children, but the students liked you well enough, so you figured you were doing something right. Maybe all that therapy you did during college came in handy, just not in the way your therapist might have thought. 

“You have any significant others, Nurse L/n?” Sohee asked, making your typing cease. 

Your eyes bulged as you blinked at her, “Now how did we get here?” You asked, making her giggle. Truthfully, you should’ve been used it by now. These kids rarely had any sense of decorum or minding intrusive questions.

“So no?” She tittered, chipping at your flimsy dignity a bit. 

You snorted, “How mean, but no, Ms. Nosey, I am not… involved with anyone.” Jungkook’s face flashed in your mind for a reason you couldn’t pinpoint nor wanted to entertain. Especially not now. He was a friend and nothing more. Keyword: was.

Sohee thought for a moment before speaking again, a true rarity for her, “Well, Mr. Kang totally has a crush on you.” She blurted, and your fingers tripped along the keys, making your nail sink in the space between two of them.

“Sohee!” You gasped, erasing the series of semicolons that populated the page, “Wh- I-” You took a moment to breathe, “Mr. Kang does not-”

“Well, thanks for the icepack!” She called as she slipped out the door, leaving you with your mouth agape, “Oh, hi Mr. Kang!” She sang loudly, making your chest seize. 

In walked Changhyun Kang, the history department head and advanced history teacher with a smile on his almost unnervingly handsome face. Living in the city on your own as you navigated adulthood came with many culture shocks, but one of them were how pretty some of the people you came across, Changhyun being one of them. He was nice though, because of course he was, and he came in every day to steal some ice for his mid-day coffee. He could very well go to the cafeteria for some, but your office was closer– barely. Regardless, you were in no state to pry into why he insisted on coming to your office. Jungkook had done his best to give you a rundown on how to talk to your fellow coworkers, but you elected to only use that advice when absolutely necessary. Now you couldn’t help but wonder how he even knew to coach you on that. 

Changhyun’s eyes darted to the door, giving you a questioning brow, “Sohee is awfully chipper today.” He observed, “Especially for a Monday.” He chuckled. You never understood the fixation with announcing the days of the week among your coworkers, but you played along nonetheless. Right now, it just served as a reminder that you had a mere two days before anniversary week would reach its crescendo. 

You sighed, “That she is.” You simply left it at that before changing the subject, “Thank you for reminding me it is nearly my lunch time.” You chuckled, continuing to type up the report. 

He nodded, thinking for a moment, “Are you ever able to take your lunch early?” He asked curiously, before moving to get some ice.

You didn’t look up from your screen as you spoke, “Well, sure, I guess I just keep my usual time for the sake of routine.” You responded thoughtlessly. 

“I see.” He spoke and the typing off your keyboard suddenly sounded way too loud. 

You gulped, not sure how to fill the sudden awkward tension, “Why?” You asked, insistent on looking at your computer still. 

“W-Well, I was just thinking maybe we could have lunch tomorrow or something?” He rushed out, and you paused, blinking for a moment. The urge to overthink the invitation was strong, especially since you weren’t sure how long you were even going to be here with everything else in your life going on. However, that was all the more reason it didn’t matter. Plus, who’s to say he was intending anything other than friendship. Changhyun was a good-looking guy, so it wouldn’t make much sense for him to be so bashful when asking for a date– not that you would even think to count an in-work lunch as a date in the first place. Obviously you were overthinking the situation anyways and for a bit too long as he continued, “I mean I bring my lunch, and you bring yours, and I come in here anyways, so we could just eat in here? –But if you prefer not–”

“Sure.” You turned to smile at him, “I could use the company.” You did your best to brighten your smile, and he returned it tenfold, “Maybe then the students will stop asking me if I have friends.” You tried to joke lightly, and surely Jungkook would be proud of you as Changhyun let out a hearty laugh. 

“Same here.” He chuckled, but it did little to simmer the sting of Jungkook on your mind. Just before your coworker could notice your smile fall, you phone started vibrating. You looked down at it with a frown, “Well, I’ll let you get that. See you!” He gave a polite wave that you mirrored just as Jungkook told you to do. 

Changhyun was kind enough to close your office door, which you were thankful for as you picked up the phone, too nervous to check the caller ID, “Hello?” 

“Was it Byungjoo?” Your blood ran cold as Jungkook’s voice sliced through the receiver. 

You’d seldom heard him sound like this before, but you can hardly register his tone when the name he uttered slices through your skin. 

“Wh-What are you–” You tried to say something, but Jungkook couldn’t bear to hear you try to lie anymore. 

“Who you saw at the fight. It was Byungjoo, wasn’t it?” He demanded, but something about his voice sounded… off. Like the way it would sound during finals week when he’d join your marathon studying. Has he… been up all night? Or longer? It’s Monday now and you both ended things Saturday morning. 

Suddenly, Byungjoo fades from your mind and you’re just a friend again, “Jungkook, have you… slept?” You asked, and flinched at the sound of his sharp exhale, letting it sink in that he’d no longer be your solace from your past. 

“Answer my question.” He demanded, but you pressed your lips together. You can’t answer his question, so that left you with one choice.

“I don’t know who–”

“Aren’t we done lying to each other?” He snapped, making your eyes widen, “Here, I’ll go first: I’ve watched every fucking frame of the crowd footage of the fight and cross-referenced them with every teacher in the goddamn city, and the only one’s that were the only ones that were in that footage for even a second hadn’t called out of work that day.” 

It was like the air knocked out of you. Why? How? It didn’t make sense. What the fuck did Jungkook do for work? Is Namjoon more than just a boyfriend? The thought was too much to bear, “Please, it’s– it’s–” You had to take a semi-stabalizing breath, “Don’t do this.” You whispered. 

“I wish I didn’t need to.” He spit, “But I can’t fucking do this without you–”

“Yes, you can–” You cut him off desperately despite how much you wanted to agree. He had no choice. Neither of you did. “Well then I don’t fucking want to!” He yelled, making your throat nearly close, “Look, you don’t have to worry about Byungjoo anymore–”

“It’s not Byungjoo I’m worried about.” You spoke honestly, not wanting to hear about your uncle’s fate any further,  “It’s… not safe for me to be around you, Kook.” You admitted and it felt like pouring hot wax down your throat.

There were a few beats of agonizing silence before he spoke again, “I can make it safe for you.” 

You shook your head before sighing, “You can’t.” The crack in your voice mirrored your resolve. It would be so easy to just say the full truth, but you let your mouth close, hoping it would stau that way, “This is… it’s bigger than just you, okay?” 

“No.” He deadpanned, and you sighed,  “No, not okay. This… nothing is too big for me…” He all but promises before adding, “...not when it comes to you.” 

Your heart ached in your chest. How many times had anyone deemed you worth much beyonf what you could give them? And would anyone else do it in the future? Jungkook was all you had and how much that meant to you teared you apart as you spoke, “It’s not worth–”

“Yes, you are.” Was all he seethed before hanging up.

You were stuck there for a moment, frozen with your phone to your ear. Had you not seen the call log yourself, you could’ve convinced yourself that whole thing was just a horrible nightmare. You wished it had been. The last thing you needed was Jungkook to tear open the wounds that haven’t even begun to heal properly and incidentally signing your death certificate. Then again, maybe his tune would change once he found out who you were. You weren’t some unsullied reprieve from his life in the Underworld, and maybe once he realized that, he’d turn his back on you. He’d realize you weren’t worth much at all. Just like everyone eventually does. 

Bitterness filled your mouth and it’s only then you realized you gnawed on the skin of your lips for too long. You huffed out, opening your compact mirror to asses the damage only to find one small red sliver. You placed a small piece of tissue on the oozing blood and put on your mask for the rest of the day. 

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Masterlist

[olderthannetfic]

Hi, OTNF & Co (and YoungerThanNetFic)! So, I have a question.

When I started out doing gift exchanges and the like, I thought the idea was to not force your own vision on the prompter, and that in return you would be left a modicum of, you know, leeway in your own endeavour.

So yes, you'd follow the prompt(s) given, respect the DNWs and the wants if given, of course! But I've always felt that expecting someone to write exactly what you want was a doomed thing--the only person who could hit your buttons just so was yourself, and chance might make it happen sometimes when you find you read THE fic, but you can't expect a mystery person whose skills you don't know to just do it. That seems... unfair, compared to letting them play to their own strengths?

If I'm expected to follow a very detailed plot already outlined for me, then I know that I will have absolutely no desire and worse, no ability to do it. All I'm left with is "Why don't you write it yourself if you already know everything that's going to happen?" (If you couldn't tell, I'm definitely not someone who likes detailed scenario prompts, lol. Best way to get me to dry up instantly).

I thought the idea of gift exchanges would be to accept a little bit of surprise, at least--sure, I prompted, idk, "Space Pirates AU," but I wasn't expecting the vampire twist! I've also always considered fandom events to be for the entire fandom, not just the participants; I thought the goal was to make your giftee happy with a story they'd like, sure, but that you put in effort to make it good for them AND everyone else who might enjoy it.

But then, I've seen and heard different things; that one should follow a list of very detailed wants (the... letter? for Yuletide? I've never participated so I'm a bit ??? about Yuletide) and that somehow everyone was apparently expected to be able to write stuff they don't vibe with or even dislike, if the needle falls on you. I'm assuming a modly human touch is supposed to help with that, but now this is all making gift exchanges look quite scary instead of an exhilarating perspective.

--

It depends very much on the exchange and the people.

I personally love outline-level prompts as long as the person gets that I might write something else.

For Yuletide, I do generally consider it a present only for that one person because it's quite possible that nobody else cares about slashfic of Medieval Spanish books of proverbs or whatever.

Letters in Yuletide are optional to write and optional to read. The writer isn't obligated to follow any of your details other than DNWs that are listed in the actual signup, and they aren't even obligated to click the letter link.

Since they can already do whatever they want, I generally write fairly specific ideas and don't offer a lot of "You don't have to write my ship" waffle.

IMO, the key is that the more detailed your requests, the more variety you should give for each ship/fandom/whatever.

But really, most exchange participants are pretty low key. It's just the absolute die-hards who circulate massive lists of "rules" that appear nowhere official and make the whole thing more stressful.

[fushiglow]

Then I guess you're a better person than me, Gojo!!

Because I hate Gege Akutami and I'm *very* angry on your behalf 😃 I’m (sort of) kidding but damn... thoughts on 236 below the cut!!

I held off posting earlier because I felt like going scorched earth on everything jjk. I took some time to clear up some of the translations I wasn't sure about and let the reality sink in, and now I'm ready to talk about this chapter rationally lol.

Firstly, I wanna say that my issue with this chapter isn’t Gojo dying or even the way that he died. I always knew that Gojo dying was likely, but here?? Now???? I've spent all day turning it over in my mind and trying to make it work, but it just won't.

I think Gojo's 'delusion' (daydream? afterlife?) is really beautiful in isolation. Some of the dialogue is really touching and I think it'll benefit from the emotional impact delivered by the full translations. The problem is what follows.

After 235, people were nervous that Gojo hadn't actually won yet. I waited to see what some trusted translators thought of the editor's comment before deciding it was a conclusive win for Gojo, and what I read reassured me that the win would remain intact even if he died at some point over the course of December 24.

In the past couple of chapters, we were told that Sukuna was 'nervous' for the first time in 1000 years and he thought Hollow Purple at close range would be fatal. At the end of 235, Sukuna is looking pretty terrible while Gojo looks fresh as a daisy after fighting in inspiring, inventive ways throughout.

So to find out that, actually, he *hasn't* won and he's been killed by getting cut in half offscreen feels like shock value for the sake of shock value. There have been a few 'shock factor' moments during this fight and they've always bothered me a little, but I could excuse them for the sake of hype building in a weekly manga. However, I never anticipated anything on this level and I'm genuinely so disappointed.

I think this long-awaited fight ending this way cheapens Gojo's character *and* Sukuna's character (and Kashimo's character for that matter!), and ultimately makes the entire thing feel meaningless. 'Meaning' is the thread that has run through Gojo's entire arc, tying him back to Suguru as he sought to build a better world. I always felt certain that Gojo's life and death would have meaning, even if it ended tragically, but I just can't find the meaning in this. I think I understand what Gege was trying to do, but he really didn't sell it for me.

There’s nothing worse than when a story makes you feel stupid for getting invested, and that’s how I’m feeling right now. I find myself wondering, what was the point in bringing Gojo back at all??? Keep him in the box and very little changes in the story, unless it transpires that Gojo 'weakening' Sukuna for the students was his grand purpose after all which... really??

Even worse, I *always* said if it was between Gojo and the students, I wanted Gojo to die. Since 212, getting Megumi back has been my number one priority, but 236 has achieved what I previously thought impossible. I literally don't even want Megumi to come back anymore, because I just can't imagine how he could live with himself after 'killing' Tsumiki and Gojo. It seems kinder for him to die with Sukuna and I *never* thought I would say that.

I'm feeling like a real clown for the meta I posted after 235. I want to take it down because I was so certain that Gojo had won, but I won't because I don't believe my reading of Gojo's character was wrong. I just think my expectations were too high, even though I tried hard to temper them. Even so, telling Megumi about Toji being left to Shoko? Gojo losing and leaving his students to clean up the mess again?? Gojo not even *mentioning* his students in his dying daydream???

It all just feels wrong. Gojo has been turned into nothing more than a plot device at the absolute last second, and maybe it's on me for ever expecting that he would be anything more than that in a series where he isn't the main character, but why bother writing Hidden Inventory then? Why bother getting us invested in this man's story at all?

Right now, I'm feeling like I don't even want to watch tomorrow's episode, but I am interested to see whether Gege can pull this arc off in the long term. I've seen people talking about resurrection theories because of the enlightenment hints and, while I do see the vision, I think Gojo's acceptance of his death and letting go of his regrets can also be read as enlightenment as he escapes the mortal coil once and for all.

Gojo's dying bloody smile shows he's at least happy in his final moments, so my feeling is that Gojo is truly dead and gone. I really want to trust that Gege will make this work, but damn. This is a tragedy.

(Although, if Gojo actually is at peace in death, maybe that's the reason Gege will bring him back. He'll *never* let that man be happy, I swear.)

To end on a positive note, the SatoSugu crumbs were beautiful and teenage Gojo's facial expressions were wonderful. I'm crying again just thinking about the contrast of that last adorable smile with his blank expression on the next page.

I'm dropping all my canonverse WIPs and working exclusively on AU fics for the foreseeable future 😤 I'm gonna give Gojo all the happy endings he deserves!!!

(fuck. poor poor shoko.)