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#if you know me in real life you didn’t see this and you will not read any further
luveline · 2 days
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jade!! i saw you were willing to add emily to your 46 fics and i have a request!! i think about your emily x single mom!reader everyday and i was wondering if you’d write more in that universe? maybe emily has to drop readers kid off at their first day of pre-k or preschool (i have no clue what you call it in the uk) because reader has a work emergency or something??
thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.1k
“It’ll be fun,” Emily says. 
Jane is looking at Emily like she’s grown a second head. “No.” 
Emily tries again. Swallows her nerves, and readjusts herself where she’s on her knees. “Mommy was gonna drop you off herself, but it's her very first day back at work and they needed her super early, so it’s me. But mom will be the one who picks you up again.” 
Jane just squints. 
“I have to go to work, too,” Emily says. 
“I’m com’n with you,” Jane says, nodding. 
Emily looks behind Jane at the baby gated corral of little kids. It’s possibly the worst adjustment in the world for your work to decide the day-of that you’d have to go early. You didn’t have time to prepare Jane for her own first day, and Emily isn’t good at this bit yet. 
“No,” Emily says, holding Jane by both arms, “I have to go work too, and it’s too boring for you. You’re gonna have way more fun here meeting your new friends.” 
Jane had already met one of the daycare workers, incidentally called Janet, a few days ago to try and ease the new phase of her life, but it’s a common fact that the majority of kids cry on their first day here. Why wouldn’t she? Jane has spent the majority of her growing life with you. This is a horrible adjustment, but better she does it now. 
Emily’s just waiting for tears.
“Em-wy…” 
“It’ll be fun, okay? There’s so much to do! Colouring, painting, dancing, nap time. They’ll make you lunch, and your new friends will have games to play–” She strokes Jane’s arm. “Sound fun?” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“I’ll miss you…” Jane mumbles, her eyes finally growing shiny. 
Emily’s honestly not expecting it. “Well, I’ll miss you more. But mommy will pick you up soon,” —you aren’t working the full day— “and you’ll see me at dinner time, okie dokie?” 
“I’m not…” Jane looks lost for what to say. She’s very, very little. Emily isn’t surprised. 
“I know it’s different, but it’s not bad.” Emily tilts her head to the side, giving Jane her gentlest smile. She’s learned all her motherly tricks from you. It’s easy to fall into that tone of voice, that same affection, because Emily adores Jane. 
“Em-wy,” Jane mumbles again. 
“Janie,” she says, copying Jane’s warbling voice. “Baby, I swear it will be great, and then mommy will pick you up and I will buy you whatever big girl dinner you want. We could have McDonald’s.” 
She whispers the last part. 
Jane smiles slowly. “Okie dokie.”
Emily should’ve guessed that Jane wouldn’t cry. She’s a funny little kid, quiet and sweet and a teeny bit slow to understand. Perhaps she’ll cry once Emily’s already gone. 
“Okay. Do you want a cuddle before I leave?” 
Jane nods, tucking her face into Emily’s front. Emily wraps her arms around her and breathes in the smell of the lavender conditioner you’d run through her hair last night. “Love you, babe,” Emily whispers. 
“Love you too.”
Emily thankfully gets home. Hotch laughs at her eagerness to not work, remarking that somehow you’d made a family of a woman determined not to be tied down. He had a point —Emily didn’t realise she wanted a wife until she met you. Didn’t realise she wanted a daughter until she met Jane, though she’s had her whims and whiles about it. 
This is real. 
You hear the door and hurry to it. Emily’s barely out of her shoes when you find her, in your smart clothes yourself, a chocolate smudge on your cheek. 
“Where’s the fire?” Emily asks. 
“Thank you for this morning,” you say, taking her hands. 
Emily softens as you rub her fingers. “You’re welcome. Did she– was she okay? She looked extremely worried for a baby.” 
“She’s not a baby.” You lean forward and to one side, just touching her. “Emily, you– I was so worried, I thought she’d take it hard but you really pulled a magic trick. She didn’t even cry when I picked her up. When I asked how her day was, she told me you promised it would be fun… and that you were going to get her McDonald’s.” 
“I will get her McDonald’s.” 
You take a swift, soft kiss. “My hero. She told me she missed me, but guess who she mentioned first?” 
Emily raises her eyebrows. 
“Mm-hm,” you hum, pulling her to the kitchen. “Em-wy, of course.”
Emily squeezes your hand as you both enter the kitchen to find the source of your kissed cheek. Jane sits at the table in lavender pyjamas to match the smell of her hair. She’s eating chocolate covered strawberries and celery with peanut butter, spread on her hands and lips, but less on her cheeks than her mom. 
“Baby, look! Guess who’s home?” 
Jane finds Emily with her gaze and gasps happily, clapping, a strawberry falling in the gap of her chest and table. “You’re back!”
“I’m back! You’re home, too! Did you have fun?” 
There’s a suspicion in Jane’s expression that she’s too young for, as though she’s guessed this whole daycare business is permanent, but she shrugs it off. “I miss you,” she says. 
“I’m back,” Emily reminds her. “I can see where mommy got her kiss from, that looks yummy.” 
You wipe your cheeks with two palms and bring them down to find chocolate melted against your fingers. “Thanks for telling me.” 
“I had plans to help you eventually.” Emily rounds the table and chair to tip Jane’s head back gently, looking her over. “You okay? Did you have a good day?” 
“Good day,” she echoes. 
“You’re happy?” Emily asks. 
She’d realised how nervous she was for your girl the second she left the daycare building. What if Jane hates it, and she cries the whole day and makes her eyes sore? Emily hadn’t enjoyed thinking about it, deciding she’d get her more than McDonald’s. 
“I’m glad you had a good day,” Emily says. 
“I fed Sergio!” Jane tells her. 
Sir-joe must be a pretty happy cat. “Thank you, babe, you’re the bestest.” 
You aren’t jealous but eager as you slide into Emily’s side and under her arm. You smile as you rest your face on her shoulder, a little cat-like yourself as your breathing evens. “She saved the day.” 
Jane looks up at you both, but her eyes meet Emily’s as she smiles. “Missed you, mommy,” she says. 
Emily’s heart skips a beat, wondering, just for a moment, if Jane was talking to her. Emily wouldn’t mind it. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
You nab a strawberry from Jane’s plate. Emily’s expecting it, but she’s still too happy to talk as you kiss her cheek. “Got you back.”
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doumadono · 1 day
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Warnings: pure angst, graphic descriptions of injuries, pregnancy mention, Dabi spiraling into madness while consumed entirely by his thirst for vengeance, a lot of sadness
Synopsis: after the Final War leaves Dabi on the brink of death, you remain by his side, pouring out your love and revealing the secret you never had the chance to share with him before
A/N: this fic was written as my contribution to the weekly challenge in @candycandy00 community ♥
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II
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The air around him was heavy with the scent of ash and smoke.
You stood there, watching as he flicked his fingers, a tiny blue flame flickering to life and dancing across his scarred skin. It illuminated the deep lines and cracks that marred his face, each one a story, each one a wound that had never healed. 
His hair was white now - ghostly, almost - and it only made the darkness in his eyes stand out more. He didn’t look at you. Instead, he stared at the flame as if it held all the answers, as if he could burn away everything that had brought him to this moment.
"Why does it always have to be this way?" your voice was trembling, and you were barely holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “Why does it have to be you?”
Dabi didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, and the light from the flame cast eerie shadows across his face. Finally, he let out a low chuckle, one that held no joy, only bitterness. "You know why," he muttered, his tone void of any hope. "This was always how it was going to end."
You took a step closer, reaching out with trembling hands, desperate to touch him, to feel the warmth that had always been just out of reach. "You don’t have to do this," you whispered, almost pleading. "You don’t have to go. Please. I care about you. You can’t leave me behind like that.”
He finally turned around, his eyes meeting yours. The flame on his fingertip flared, and the moment was gone, replaced by the icy detachment he wore like a second skin. "And then what?" he asked, tilting his head, his voice barely more than a whisper. "What happens then? I walk away? Pretend these scars aren’t there? Pretend I can forgive? They took everything from me, and they’re going to pay for that."
“Touya…” You dared to use his real name, hoping, praying it would be enough to reach him, to make him stop this madness.
"Don’t," he snapped back. "Don’t call me that. He’s dead. He’s been dead for a long time." He took a step closer, and the heat emanating from his body was already suffocating, but you refused to move, refused to let him push you away. “I’m Dabi now. That’s all there is.”
“No,” you choked out, shaking your head furiously, tears finally spilling over, tracing paths down your flushed cheeks. “You’re more than that. You’ve always been more than that. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen you…”
“You’ve seen what I wanted you to see,” he interrupted. 
The dim light of the cave cast shadows that made him look monstrous, and yet, all you could see was the boy he used to be, the boy who had wanted to be a hero. “You can’t save me. No one can,” Dabi added, his voice a tone softer, and it broke your heart because it was the truth he had resigned himself to.
You reached for him, grabbing his wrist, ignoring the searing heat that pulsed beneath your fingers. “I don’t want to save you,” you whispered. “I just want you to stay. Just… stay.”
Dabi’s eyes softened, just for a moment, and you thought, maybe, maybe there was a chance. But then he smiled - a smile so broken, tired, and filled with a sorrow so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. “You deserve better than a monster covered in scars,” he murmured, and your heart shattered.
"I don’t want better," you said, voice shaking. "I want you, Dabi."
He leaned in, and for a heartbeat, you thought he might kiss you, but instead, he rested his forehead against yours. “I wish I could be that for you,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a ghost of a sound. “I really do.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that would keep him here, as if that would stop him from slipping away. “Then stay.” You shot your hands to wrap them around his waist, and you stood there, holding him tightly.
But when you opened your eyes again, he had pulled away. He took a step back, then another, until there was nothing but shadows separating you. “Goodbye,” he uttered, and it wasn’t just a word - it was a death sentence, for both of you.
And as he walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the darkness, all you could do was stand there, surrounded by the cold emptiness he left behind, the echo of his final words burning hotter than any flame.
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You stood frozen in front of the flickering television screen in your apartment, the world around you fading into nothingness as the battle raged on, as the flames you had once held so tenderly now roared and consumed everything in their wake. It was pure chaos - heroes and villains clashing in a storm of power and destruction, but all you could see was him.
Dabi stood at the center of it all, white hair whipping around his face like the ashes of a funeral pyre. His flames blazed with an intensity that seemed to consume the very air around him, radiating a brightness so fierce that, for a fleeting moment, he appeared almost ethereal - like a dying star caught in its last throes, desperate to leave a mark before being extinguished forever. But then you saw the pain etched into his features, the way his body trembled, the way his flames wavered, and it hit you all over again - how much he was hurting himself, how much this was costing him.
“Touya, please,” you whispered, voice cracking, as if he could hear you through the screen, as if your words could somehow reach him across the distance. “Please, stop.”
But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t, and you knew it well. You watched, heart splintering with every second that passed, as he unleashed everything he had against his family - the people who had made him, who had scarred him, who had broken him beyond repair. You watched as his flames collided with the ice of his mother and brothers, with the desperate defenses of his father, and all you could do was stand there, powerless to stop the destruction that unfolded.
Tears blurred your vision, and you sank to your knees, clutching at your chest as if you could somehow hold yourself together, as if you could somehow stop the pieces of your heart from crumbling to dust. “Please,” you sobbed, your voice a strangled whisper, “Please, don’t leave me…”
The news anchors were talking - describing the devastation, the violence, the destruction - but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, pounding in your ears like a death knell, as you watched him burn to his demise, as you watched him fight and bleed and scream, and you felt it - the scars he left on your heart tearing wider, deeper, with every moment that passed.
And then, you saw it.
“No…” The word tore itself from your throat, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming, didn’t realize you were clawing at the screen as if you could somehow reach through it, as if you could somehow pull him back, keep him from slipping away. “No, no, no!”
His body lay still, the blue flames around him flickering weakly, as if they, too, were struggling to hold on. The camera zoomed in, capturing every agonizing detail, and you felt your heart constrict, a scream dying in your throat as you took in the full extent of his wounds.
His skin - what little remained - was cracked and charred, blackened to the bone in places where the flames had devoured him. The once-pale flesh hung in shreds, peeled back to reveal raw, bloodied muscle, and patches of bone that jutted out grotesquely. His right arm was gone, and he was reduced to little more than a skeleton covered with scraps of burnt tissue. Where the flesh had burned away entirely, you could see the tendons and ligaments clinging to his bones, frayed and broken, hanging on by threads.
His ribs, twisted and scorched, pressed against the paper-thin skin of his chest, the bones visible through what remained of the flesh that had once protected him. Each ragged breath he took caused them to rise and fall in sharp, jerky movements, and you could see how parts of the bone were cracked, splintered, as if they might snap with the slightest bit of pressure. His spine, scorched black, protruded from his back, the vertebrae exposed, skeletal.
His face was nearly unrecognizable, a twisted mask of agony and destruction. The skin around his mouth and eyes was entirely gone, leaving only the exposed muscles and tendons. His lips were cracked, blackened, and torn, revealing teeth that were stained red with blood. The left side of his face had burned down to the bone, the flames having stripped away everything, leaving behind nothing but a charred, skeletal visage that made him look more like a corpse than a man.
Blood seeped from countless wounds, dripping from him in a slow, steady stream, pooling beneath his ruined body. It mingled with the ash, the remnants of his own flesh, turning the ground around him into a grotesque, crimson mud. 
Yet still, somehow, his chest moved - barely, but it did - his lungs rattling with each shallow, ragged breath, fighting for every ounce of air as if he could refuse the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
The sight of him - broken, burned, reduced to this fragile state - was more than you could bear.
You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare, paralyzed by the sight of him lying there, so small, so broken, and all you could think was, “I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to stop him.”
You didn’t remember moving. One moment, you were on the floor, and the next, you were running, stumbling out of your apartment and into the chaos of the city, the smoke and screams and sirens drowning out the world around you. You didn’t care. You didn’t care about the danger, didn’t care about the warnings blaring from every television and radio and phone. All you knew was that he was out there, dying, and you had to reach him. You had to be there, if only to tell him that he wasn’t alone.
You reached the barricades, the line of heroes holding back the civilians, and you fought against them, desperate, frantic, screaming his name over and over until your voice gave out, until your throat was raw and bleeding, and still, you pushed forward. “Please,” you begged, clawing at them with all the strength you had left. “Please, I need to get there!”
“We can’t let you there, ma’am, the battle is still on and it’s dangerous…”
But you refused to listen, refused to believe it. You clawed your way past them, pushing a few people violently aside, slipping through the gaps, ignoring the shouts and hands that tried to hold you back, ignoring the pain that throbbed with every step, ignoring the scorching pain within your calves that seemed to slow you down to the point you were barely moving forward. All you knew was that you had to reach him. You had to see him, even if one last time.
And then you were there, standing over him, staring down at the body of the man you loved, and for a moment, the world fell silent. You collapsed to your knees beside him, your hands hovering over his broken form, afraid to touch him, afraid that he would crumble into ashes beneath your fingers. 
His family lay nearby, battered and broken, their bodies bearing the scars of the battle that had nearly consumed them all, just as it had consumed him.
“Touya,” you whispered, and his name felt like a blade slicing through you, sharp and unyielding. You reached out, brushing trembling fingers against the cracked, burned skin of his cheek, and it was so cold, so impossibly cold. 
There was no answer. There would probably never be an answer. As you cradled his head in your lap, the reality of his condition struck you like a blow. What you held wasn't the man you loved anymore - it was a skull, stripped of nearly all the flesh that had once made him human. The skin around his cheeks and jaw had burned away, leaving only the bare bone, cracked and blackened, exposed to the world. His eye sockets, once bright and full of life, now seemed hollow and lifeless, the remaining fragments of skin stretched tightly over his brow. Every part of him felt fragile, delicate, as if the slightest touch might cause him to crumble into dust in your hands. And still, you leaned down, pressing your forehead against his exposed skull, sobs wracking your body, as you whispered words of love and apology, hoping somehow, some part of him could still feel you. You whined silently when you felt the ragged, faint breath that still fought to escape his lungs, and you knew - these were the scars that would never heal, the wounds that would lead him straight to his demise.
And all you could do was hold him, whispering the words you had never been able to say before, hoping, praying that somehow, some way, he could still hear you. “I’m here,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “I’m here, Touya. I’m here, and you’re not alone.”
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The hospital room was cold, sterile, and far too quiet. 
You stood there, barely able to breathe, as you took in the sight of him - the man you loved, the man who had burned so brightly, now trapped within the confines of a life support system. His body was completely bound, encased in a mass of wires, tubes, and bandages that covered every inch of him. He was barely recognizable, and the sight made your heart shatter all over again.
All that remained visible were his eyes and his jaw - the only parts of him restored after the destruction he had inflicted on himself, and everything and everyone around him. His eyes stared blankly ahead.
You took a tentative step forward, your hands trembling as you reached out to touch the glass that separated you from him. “Touya…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. It was surreal, seeing him like this, as if the world had paused and left you in this agonizing limbo. “I’m here.”
The faint, rhythmic beeping of the machines was the only response you got, and it cut through you like a knife. You swallowed back the tears, your fingers pressing harder against the glass, as if you could somehow reach through it, as if you could somehow pull him back to you.
“They said you wouldn’t make it,” you joked nervously, your eyes never leaving his. “They said you were too far gone. But you fought, didn’t you? You fought, and you’re still here.”
His eyes shifted, focusing on you with a clarity that made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, painfully, you saw his jaw twitch, and then, in a voice so faint, so weak, you almost thought you were imagining it, he spoke. “Why are you still here?” His voice was barely a whisper, raspy and broken, but it was his. 
“I couldn’t leave you,” the words trembled out of your lips, thick with unshed tears. “I couldn’t let this be the end. Not like this.”
He tried to laugh, but it came out as a painful wheeze, his jaw tightening as he winced. “You shouldn’t have… I’m not… worth it.”
“How dare you?” you snapped, the words tearing from you with the force of a scream. “How dare you say that after everything? After everything we went through? How can you say you’re not worth it?!”
His eyes closed briefly, and when they opened again, they were filled with something you hadn’t seen in so long - something that looked like fear. “I ruined… everything.”
The words slipped out, fragile and trembling, as tears spilled over, leaving hot trails down your flushed cheeks. “You didn’t ruin what we had. You just… you got lost. But you’re still here. You’re still mine.”
He shook his head slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and you could see the agony etched into every piece of his uncovered face. “I can’t be saved.”
“I’m not here to save you,” you remarked fiercely, pressing harder against the glass, as if you could somehow reach him. “I’m here because I love you. I’m here because I couldn’t walk away. And because…” You hesitated, your heart pounding, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you. “Because there’s something you need to know.”
His gaze sharpened, confusion flickering in those eyes you had loved so much, the eyes that had once been so full of life. “What is it?”
Swallowing hard, a trembling hand drifted to the curve of your abdomen as you forced the words out, each one a dagger plunging deeper into your heart. “I’m pregnant,” you confessed, voice quivering. “I found out right before you left. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t want to listen to me.”
The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard, that your words hadn’t reached him. But then the steady beep of his heart rate monitor began to spike, echoing frantically in the small room as his pulse rose. And then you saw it - a tear slipping down his bandaged cheek, his mouth opening and closing, as if he were trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. “No…” he rasped, his voice shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me…?”
“Because you didn’t listen!” you cried, your voice breaking. “You wouldn’t stop! I tried to make you stay, but you were so consumed with your pain, fury and vengeance, and I couldn’t save you from that.”
“I failed you,” Touya whispered, his voice cracking, and it was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him, the man who had once stood unflinching before the world, now reduced to this broken, shattered soul. “I failed our family.”
“No,” you stated, shaking your head furiously, the glass cool against your forehead as you pressed closer, desperate to be near him, to make him understand. “You didn’t fail. You can still come back. You can still fight. For me. For us.”
“I’m too tired,” he burbled, and his eyes drifted closed, his chest rising and falling with the effort of breathing, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a battle. “I don’t want to hurt… anymore.”
You let out a broken sob, your shoulders shaking, your fingers splayed against the glass as if you could somehow hold him together, keep him from slipping away. “Then don’t,” you begged. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave us. Stay, Touya. Please, stay. I need you. Our baby needs you.”
His eyes flickered open one last time. “I love you,” Touya breathed, the words barely more than a breath, but they were there, they were real, and they seared themselves into your soul.
And then, just like that, his eyes closed, and his breathing evened out, and you were left standing there, holding onto the glass, holding onto him, as the machines continued their relentless, mechanical rhythm. He drifted off yet again. His body was so exhausted he could only speak for a couple minutes per day before reaching his limit.
And all you could do was choke out, “I love you too, Touya. We love you so much,”" although you recognized that he had succumbed to unconsciousness and was beyond the reach of your voice.
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another thing that always struck me about jiang cheng and wei wuxian’s relationship is how little jc actually seems to understand wwx and where he was coming from and this is not just an empathy problem (though that is entirely present, too) but also the lack of effort to truly open up to wei wuxian’s pov and seek it from the source himself.
this is possibly the randomest example i can give but during their chat in the burial mounds, jc comments on the situation with the food and whether crops would even grow in the burial mounds and whether people could even live there and it’s just...even if he’s not sure about wwx spending months in the burial mounds, he KNOWS wwx lived in the streets in his early childhood and nothing gives people the mentality of “survival before all else” than that but jc had either never bothered to learn about wwx’s past before he came to lotus pier in all the years he’d known him or he did know and never bothered to contexualise things so he didn’t have to wonder whether a comfortable lifestyle was truly a valid concern for wwx. here’s the passage if anyone wants to read the exact phrasing:
Jiang Cheng was incredulous. “You’re planting things on a mountain made of corpses? Will anything that grows even be edible?” “Trust me. Anything is edible when you’re hungry enough.” “Do you really plan on settling here for the long-term?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Can people even live in a hellish place like this?” “I lived here for three months before,” Wei Wuxian stated.
now, ik jc’s headspace at the time was focussed on detracting wwx’s resolve to live in the burial mounds but my point is moreso that jc actually did not comprehend who wwx was as a person in the books, ever. he literally never came close. and this isn’t even about the missing information like the golden core transplant or the true circumstances of wwx’s three months disappearance. it’s jiang cheng thinking wwx always wanted to show off, linking his actions to a hero complex, thinking wwx was needlessly arrogant, not understanding why wwx would stick his neck out for the wens. it’s the way jiang cheng rarely, if ever, gave wei wuxian any grace in his reading of his actions–always looking at wei wuxian through a lens that was inherently unfavourable and thereby, never allowed him to truly view wwx for who he is.
in contrast, wei wuxian always understood jiang cheng in a way i don’t think jc knew he did. the way he knew where jc’s cutting words originated from, the way he could read jc’s insecurities, the way he could empathise with his grief and anger, even after everything went to absolute hell between the two. i’m not claiming wei wuxian understood jiang cheng like no other or had some uniquely profound insight into his mindset but there is enough content in the books that makes it clear that wei wuxian saw jiang cheng for the person that he was and gave him more grace (than he deserved, imo) and that this understanding was not at all present in jiang cheng’s perspective of wei wuxian.
which brings me to another observation: jiang cheng may or may not have loved wei wuxian but he sure as hell never respected him. because when you respect someone (and i’d argue there is no real love without respect), you try to get to know the person, try to see their side of things, try to assemble your opinion of them after informing yourself about their life. jiang cheng, for me, never exhibited the interest to go even slightly out of his way and gain a better understanding of wwx. wei wuxian wasn’t someone he wanted to spend that kind of time on – be it because jc had internalised the social hierarchy separating them, had never liked wwx for being better than him in various fields or because he was simply not the kind of person who would be emotionally even a little generous in his relationships. it doesn’t matter.
the point for me is that this give-and-take was never balanced. it was always wei wuxian over-extending his internal resources while jc never realised or refused to. some say their relationship only became worse/toxic after the wen remnants were rescued but the seeds were there since their childhoods. their circumstances exacerbated the issue tenfold, yes, most definitely, but that issue was always present and would blow up their relationship sooner or later, as long as jiang cheng didn’t have substantial growth. jiang cheng continuing to live was worth the sacrifice for wei wuxian (be it from a source of affection, obligation, duty, anything) but staying by wei wuxian’s side after the shift to burial mounds was not worth the trouble for jiang cheng. and yes their personalities have alot to do with their individual decisions in these pressing matters but i’m sure that were it jiang yanli who had taken wei wuxian’s spot, jiang cheng’s actions would be far different but do the switch with jiang cheng, and wei wuxian would still make the same choice. because jiang cheng’s relationship with wei wuxian was undeniably unbalanced to begin with. he never did consider wwx his equal and so, never tried to put in the same effort that wwx did. it’s as simple as that.
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ruinofchimera · 3 days
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Please tell us more about Voldemort's relationship with Severus, and why you think it differs so much from Voldemort's other relationships
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Whatever it is that lingers between Tom and Severus—power, manipulation, some dark bond none of us can fully grasp—it naturally ignites chaos in the mind of the beholders. And if you’re eager to feel that burn, I’ll gladly embrace you in it. To you brave, reckless souls, I say this: your wish is my command.
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So, here we are, picking apart how Severus Snape—mudblood, poor, and bruised from the heavy hand of a Muggle father—managed to land himself a spot at the table with the most rabid pack of blood purists you’ve ever seen. A table, mind you, he had no business sitting at. The Death Eaters, that tight little clique of privileged purebloods, had no real reason to let in this scruffy little outsider. Sure, Snape was useful. Very useful. His skills were sharp as knives, and he could do their dirty work, get his hands filthy so they didn’t have to. But useful doesn’t mean welcome. Useful doesn’t mean accepted. You know who else was useful? Fenrir Greyback and his mangy lot. They brought terror to the doorsteps of half the wizarding world, and did Voldemort’s cause no small service. But did they get a place at the inner circle? Did they get respect? Hell no. They were the dirt beneath the boots of the real Death Eaters. Useful filth. And then there’s Snape, embodying everything these purists claim to despise—a half-blood with a tainted surname, living in squalor, dragged through the muck by a Muggle brute of a father. By all accounts, Death Eaters should have spat in his face and tossed him out like yesterday’s rubbish. But no. Not only does he get a seat at the table, he rises. He’s placed on a pedestal, standing closer to Voldemort than some of the most loyal, purest-blooded lackeys in the room. Voldemort, in all his cold-blooded glory, didn’t just tolerate Severus. He raised him up, right in front of their sneering, offended faces. Now, here’s where it gets really interesting. If you think Voldemort did this out of some sense of gratitude, you’ve missed the point entirely. Tom Riddle doesn’t do gratitude. That kind of sentiment is beneath him, an alien concept. Voldemort doesn’t reward; he uses. Deeds done in his name are expected, not appreciated. You’re not going to get a pat on the back from a man who thinks the world owes him its loyalty. Snape’s service should’ve earned him nothing more than a brief reprieve from pain. A loosening of the noose around his neck, if he was lucky. That’s Voldemort’s way—keep them all desperate, keep them all afraid. So why did Snape, of all people, get raised up? Why did he, the least likely among them, become a favorite?
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Mind, it’s not just me declaring Snape as Voldemort’s favorite. That dark, twisted bond is laced into nearly every interaction between the two, as if something unspoken and festering passes between them. But it’s Narcissa Malfoy who lays it bare. A woman born into the highest echelons of pure-blood privilege, the very foundation on which Voldemort’s so-called supremacy stands, doesn’t hesitate when she calls him “the Dark Lord’s favorite, his most trusted advisor.” Let that sink in.
Here is the wife of Lucius Malfoy, a man whose lineage is steeped in the darkest of traditions. But when her family’s future is on the edge of a wand, when her son’s life dangles by a thread, she doesn’t rely on Lucius, doesn’t turn to Bellatrix. No, she comes to Severus, because deep down, she knows. They all do.
It’s something more insidious, something that slips through the cracks in the floorboards of Voldemort’s ideology. He is the one Voldemort trusts, the one Voldemort leans on, the one whose counsel can shift the dark winds of fate. That is real power, raw and untouchable. Narcissa sees it—how could she not? Even with all her aristocratic pride, even with the weight of her name and her family’s legacy pressing down on her, she understands that none of it means a damn thing next to what Snape has. Narcissa, with her family’s long, proud heritage, has to grovel before someone who, by the very logic of Voldemort’s cause, should be inferior. But Snape is different, and everyone knows it. They may not say it, they may not even want to admit it, but they know. He operates outside the lines, above the fray, immune to the very rules that were meant to keep people like him down. Snape, the half-blood, the one with the muddied past, holds a kind of sway that no one else in Voldemort’s ranks can claim.
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Oh, there comes the bitter irony of Peter Pettigrew. After years of scraping and groveling, thinking he’d earned his place in the Dark Lord’s favor, Peter is handed over like a rag for Severus to wring out. Peter, one of the smug Marauders who’d gleefully hounded Snape through school, reduced now to something just shy of a house-elf, bowing and cringing under Snape’s very roof. A cruel twist of fate, no doubt arranged with Voldemort’s signature malevolence. Was this some attempt to plant a spy in Snape's house? Maybe, if you take it at face value. But think for a moment—Voldemort, who couldn’t pry Snape's treachery from his skull with all the power of Legilimency, putting his trust in Wormtail to do the job? The rat that couldn't outsmart a dormitory prank, never mind a master of deception like Severus?
No, this isn’t espionage; this is karma. Cruel, twisted karma orchestrated by the Dark Lord himself. You can almost picture Severus watching Peter scuttle about his house, casting him those withering, superior glances—knowing full well that Tom has given him this indulgence, this little taste of vengeance. Snape treats Wormtail with open contempt, because he knows he can. He knows it’s allowed, expected even. It’s as if the tables have turned in the most bitter of ways, a humiliating reversal of fortune. Pettigrew, who once revelled in Snape’s humiliation, now reduced to the lowest of roles, while Snape—Voldemort’s golden boy—sits at the top. Isn’t it delicious? You’d have to be blind to chalk it up to coincidence. Moreover, Pettigrew’s fate is all the proof you’ll ever need that Voldemort’s rule isn’t founded on something as simple or sentimental as loyalty. Loyalty? Sacrifice? Please. Pettigrew’s life was one long, groveling act of desperation to stay in the Dark Lord’s good graces. You bring your master back from the brink of death itself, and still, all you get is contempt. Voldemort demands service, sure. But service? Guarantees nothing. And when you set Severus and Peter side by side, the question gnaws at you. Why? Why is Snape the favored one, the exception, the enigma in Voldemort’s otherwise brutal, predictable hierarchy? What makes him different? There’s something between them—something that doesn’t follow the usual logic of power and punishment. Voldemort doesn’t just tolerate Snape’s defiance; he rewards it, bends the system to accommodate it. Something unspoken, something hidden behind the masks they both wear, grants Snape a level of favor that Pettigrew could only dream of.
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What’s crucial to grasp here is that Voldemort doesn’t spare anyone. His entire ideology is rooted in cruelty, in domination, in the ruthless obliteration of all who oppose him. He doesn’t just eliminate enemies; he obliterates them, wipes them from existence without a second thought. And yet, here’s the anomaly: Lily Evans, mother of Harry Potter, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and a Muggle-born witch, is offered a chance to live. Live. This decision, however, is directly tied to Snape. Snape had begged Voldemort to spare her, and it is this plea—Snape’s plea—that softens the Dark Lord’s otherwise unyielding cruelty.
To truly grasp the enormity of this act, we need to take a step back and consider Snape’s position in all of this. Remember, Severus was just 21 years old when he found himself pleading with Voldemort, one of the most dangerous dark wizard in history, to spare Lily Evans.
Snape wasn’t the imposing, confident figure we often associate with him thanks to Alan Rickman’s performance—he wasn’t a man exuding quiet menace, seemingly capable of standing toe-to-toe with Voldemort. No, at this point in canon, he was barely more than a boy, a young man fresh out of Hogwarts, with no powerful lineage or wealth to protect him.
And yet, despite this—despite the sheer imbalance of power between them—Snape dared to approach Voldemort. Voldemort. With a plea. Not for himself, but for a Muggle-born witch. At best, Snape’s request might have been laughed off, dismissed as the desperate wish of a foolish young Death Eater. But it wasn’t. For some reason, Voldemort didn’t just tolerate Snape’s plea—he actually acted on it.
Consider how critical this moment was to Voldemort’s larger agenda. At the heart of his entire scheme is a singular, consuming fixation: the annihilation of the child prophesied to be his undoing. Harry Potter is Voldemort’s obsession, the one threat he must eliminate to secure his dominion. The Potters were no longer just enemies—they were the key to his future, and Harry was the focus of his most crucial mission. In this context, sparing anyone even remotely connected to Harry was an extraordinary risk. Leniency wasn’t just unnecessary—it was dangerous. By showing mercy to Lily, Voldemort risked undermining his own carefully constructed agenda. And this wasn’t a moment where Voldemort could afford to make mistakes.
This unprecedented act of “mercy,” this concession Voldemort granted Snape, became the very thing that led to his downfall. Had Voldemort simply killed Lily Evans on the spot, as he did James, she would never have had the chance to sacrifice herself for Harry. The protection her sacrifice invoked—the ancient magic that saved Harry’s life and turned Voldemort’s killing curse back on him—would never have existed. Voldemort, the cold strategist, fell because he didn’t bend for anyone—except, inexplicably, for Snape. And that single, dangerous deviation cost him everything. That’s how it’s all started.
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And there it is— how it’s all ends. Voldemort’s final words to Severus Snape before he executes him. But pay attention to how he begins. “Clever man,” he calls him. He suggests that Snape might’ve already known the truth of the Elder Wand’s treachery. Tom would never acknowledge someone’s cleverness if it undermined his own intellectual abilities. If he implies that Snape may have already unraveled the mystery of the Elder Wand, it undoubtedly indicates that Voldemort had recognized Snape’s crucial role in the wand’s problems long before. It’s not just idle chatter or casual flattery. No, it’s a bloody confirmation that Voldemort himself had long ago pieced together the mystery of Snape’s involvement with the wand. This wasn’t some last-minute realization that forced his hand. It wasn’t ignorance that delayed Snape’s death, not at all. It was deliberation. Voldemort, for all his cruelty, wasn’t stupid. He suspected, long before that moment, that Snape was at the center of the problem with the wand’s loyalty. He just chose not to act on it until the very last moment.
He held back from executing him, searching for any other way around the wand’s limitations, trying to find a solution that didn’t involve killing Snape. But when it came down to it, when all other options were exhausted, Voldemort finally made his move.
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And what does he do? He delivers a speech. A bloody speech, full of regret and excuses—“I regret what must happen.” Does that sound like the Voldemort we know? The Dark Lord who kills without a second thought, who carves his empire from the bones of the disobedient? Hell no. This is the man who thrives on fear, on swift, brutal punishment. And yet, here he is, delivering justifications like some guilty executioner. This isn’t Voldemort’s usual method. This isn’t the whip coming down fast and hard. This is something altogether more… hesitant.
That speech, soaked in rationalizations, tells us everything we need to know. Snape’s death wasn’t just business—it was personal. It’s a messy, ugly end to the unexplainable dynamic between them. Even at the very end, Voldemort is bending, twisting, trying to justify his actions to the one man who had managed to worm his way under his skin. And in that second, we see something rare—a glimpse of the complexity in their relationship. Voldemort’s usual ruthless efficiency is absent.
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His “I regret it,” spoken once more, stands out like a blade in the gut, sharp and unexpected, slicing straight through Voldemort’s usual cold indifference. The Dark Lord, who has never spared a thought for the wreckage in his wake, lets these words hang in the air, unnatural as they are. A man who’s never known the weight of remorse now offers something that almost feels like regret. Not true regret, of course—Voldemort doesn’t have the luxury of feeling something so weak, so human. But still, It’s not a sentiment he offers to anyone else. It’s almost as if Voldemort doesn’t know how to process this lingering attachment, as though Snape’s mere existence demands something from him that Voldemort is incapable of giving. Snape occupies some strange corner of Voldemort’s mind, twisted and dark it may be, that not even the Dark Lord himself seems to understand. Despite the fact that I’ve painted a whole canvas of tangled thoughts on the strange relationship between Severus and Tom, I’ve barely begun to tug at the thread of their inexplicable dynamic. There’s so much more I could unearth, layers of intrigue and tension that ripple through every scene between them, and I could easily go on for hours about the small, delicious details woven into their story. But, as it happens, my full-time job is already sharpening its knife and aiming for my back, so I'll have to bring this whole saga to a close with the following quote:
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For me, the intensity of this scene speaks volumes about their relationship, capturing the very essence of what makes these two so bloody fascinating. The way their gaze alone can make Death Eaters flinch under the weight of their unspoken understanding. It’s not fear, not exactly. It’s something colder, something deeper. As though they’re witnessing a bond forged in the dark, a grim understanding that none of them can ever be a part of.
That’s what keeps dragging me back to these two. The tension, the labyrinth of contradictions, the complex tangle of manipulation. I want to look away—hell, I should look away, just like the Death Eaters did. But there’s something about it, something that coils around me, tightening like a serpent’s embrace. Can you blame me?
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fazedlight · 2 days
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Plummet (Cat's perspective on Falling)
Cat had started so optimistic. Kiera, finally dressing as an adult? It was a promising development for her executive-assistant-slash-vigilante, one that suggested the kryptonian could possibly grow a backbone in the near future. Goodness knows Kiera desperately needed to come out of her shell. 
Cat had ignored the… well, cattiness emanating from the blonde. A bit of cynicism would’ve been icing on the proverbial cake, had it not heralded something darker.
But when Siobhan marched proudly into Cat’s office, showing her the security footage of Supergirl letting a dangerous criminal go, Cat knew something more was going on. And this morning she used my personal elevator. Perhaps she’s truly lost her mind, Cat thought. “It could be another Bizarro,” Cat said to a disapproving Siobhan, “Put this under your hat until we figure out what’s going on.”
---
Kiera seemed to only get more haughty over time. “You’ve branded me in the media as a girl scout,” the kryptonian said bitterly. “Everyone knows real people have a dark side.”
Where is this coming from?, Cat thought. Psychotic break, brainwashing? Carter loved that old TV show with the star treks, and once spent an entire month talking about mirror universes. Was this an evil Kiera with an invisible goatee? “I fear that you're having some sort of mental breakdown,” Cat said, “Don't worry, it happens to the best of us-”
But Kiera snapped back. “You are the most arrogant, self-serving, mean-spirited person I know.” Tell me how you really feel, Cat thought to herself, but she had to admit that those words struck a little close.
But that hurt was very rapidly replaced by a more primal fear as the kryptonian approached her. “You want to see what powerful really looks like?” Kiera said, “Watch.”
---
They say your life flashes before your eyes. That’s not what Cat saw. Nor did she have a single coherent thought, other than Carter’s face and endless screaming.
Luckily for her, her assailant didn’t kill her. Cat collapsed inelegantly to the ground, turning back up in a panic as the scornful kryptonian stared down at her. “True power, Cat,” Kara scoffed, “Is in deciding who will live, and who will die.”
Somewhere in the back of Cat’s mind - a stray thought as she tried to calm her pounding heart - she understood. She has all this power, but she couldn’t save her planet. Kiera was just as frustrated at her own powerlessness; her history would be enough to cause anyone to have a psychotic break.
Unfortunately, it didn’t change what Cat had to do next.
---
“People are in danger,” she said to James and Winn, as she shared her plan for a televised broadcast on the kryptonian’s erratic and terrifying behavior, “The public needs to be warned.”
“Miss Grant,” James started, “Look, I am sure that Supergirl is going to be fine soon-”
“Can you guarantee me that the public is safe?”
James and Winn shifted guiltily. I know this isn’t her, Cat wanted to say, I know this isn’t who she is. But Cat couldn’t carry a death on her shoulders of someone who trusted Supergirl because of her words. And Cat suspected that Kara - if the girl ever recovered - couldn’t bear that guilt either.
But she hated every moment.
---
Is there any recovery from this?
Kiera had been a wreck at work that day, scurrying around the office with slumped shoulders and stressed eyes, avoiding Cat entirely. Cat supposed she was breathing easier now that Kiera was back to normal, but it still evoked the same question - What happens with Supergirl next?
As Cat walked into her office that evening - intent to pour herself a stiff drink - she was surprised to find a metal tube set on her desk, with a folded piece of paper propped up against it. “I’m sorry,” the letter read, in familiar loopy, feminine writing. “I wasn’t myself.”
Cat opened the tube, noting a strange green glow inside. Kryptonite, she realized, sighing internally at the thought of Kara entrusting her with this sort of protection. “I don’t want you to feel unsafe. If you want me to stop interacting with you, I will,” the letter read. Cat closed the tube, mulling again over her assistant’s state of mind. Sighing, she placed the tube in a drawer, pouring herself a drink as she had planned, before making her way to her balcony.
She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the super when she stepped out, but somehow she was. Kiera sat far from the door, quiet as she looked out onto the city lights. Cat knew the super must’ve heard her, but she didn’t face her - perhaps waiting for the sendoff she thought she deserved.
Cat stepped forward quietly, reaching the railing of the balcony. And that’s what gave Kiera the courage to speak. “I love this city,” she said solemnly.
Cat stood silently, listening to the kryptonian’s words - weighing the tender passion with the agonizing remorse. “What I did to you, Miss Grant-”
“Oh please,” Cat said, shrugging off. “I’ve base jumped Kilimanjaro, do you really think you scared me?”
Well, that was a lie, and they both knew it. “Okay, yes, you did scare me.”
“I scared the whole city,” Kara lamented.
“It’s not going to be easy,” Cat said. “But if anyone can win this city back, it’s you.”
Kara nodded gratefully, biting back unshed tears. “Can I just… stay here for a while?”
“Of course,” Cat said softly. 
In the soft breeze and the quiet night, the two looked back over the city, and wondered what was to come.
----------------------------------------------------
I found it a really weird writing choice that Kara never apologized to Cat - or didn't seem to understand the fear she must've instilled in her, after throwing her off a building - so I tried to fix it here. (I have thoughts on Kara's relationship with kryptonite, but I will spare this post of that ramble.)
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Fuel In The Fire | Ch. 3
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Summary: You had a on and off relationship with Geto Suguru while being in college again. You juggled seeing him when you can until Gojo Satoru came into your life. Things get complicated when you tried to keep the relationship with Geto going and tried to keep a distance from being around Gojo. You began to wonder if you can actually see a real future with Geto or is it too late to moved forward into a new direction
Pairing: F1driver! Gojo Satoru x collegestudent! Female Reader x F1driver! Geto Suguru
Warnings: cursed words, angst
Author note: thanks for the comments I have been receiving. This is Geto point of view.
Series Masterlist
Chapter 3
Geto sat in the team hospitality’s suite while the other drivers did their own thing to relax. He was scrolling through his phone looking at pictures on your instagram page.
Sometimes he can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life but he also noticed that you still have pictures of you and Gojo together from years ago. He always thought there was something between you two but he blocked it out of his mind.
What was it about him? He always thinks that.
He was looking at some more pictures on your Instagram page when he saw a text message come up on his phone.
You: I can’t make it this weekend.
You: I’m sorry, babe. Good luck
He was about to reply to your text message, but someone interrupted him. “Trouble in love paradise again, Geto?”
Geto looked away from his phone and saw Choso seated next to him on the empty chair. “We are just fine, Choso.”
Choso did not believe him at all. “Are you sure? Because you are looking a bit bitter forsome reason.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I am not bitter.”
Choso shot him a look. “Y/N, not coming this time?” He can read him like a book. Geto was not hard to read unlike Choso who knows him so well.
Geto sighs, feeling annoyed. “It’s fine.”
“It’s fine my ass.” Choso let out a laugh. “I know you G.”
He scoffs and returns to browsing through his phone when Choso speaks to him. “You and Y/N have been on and off for years and I can see the way you look at her. But what about you and that girl, huh?” Choso knew Geto was not just seeing you.
It wasn’t a secret that Geto was seeing someone else while trying to make it work with you for a few years now. Only a few of his teammates knew about her.
“She isn’t anything special.” Geto half-lied.
Choso raised an eyebrow. “If she’s not then why the fuck you keep letting her make a fool out of herself for you?”
Geto stopped browsing through Gojo's Instagram page, where he saw photographs of you on his page, with his attention on Choso. “I am not making her a fool. I just enjoy some extra company.”
“Extra–” Choso trailed off. “The world is going to find out sooner or later.”
Geto huffed, disregarding him, while getting up from the couch and handing his phone to his assistant. “We have a race to do.” He walked out hearing Choso chuckled behind him.
He didn’t have a fear the media was going to find out about her. He truly was worried about losing you to someone else the most.
He continued to stroll down the hall until he collided with someone hard. He glances and sees Gojo in front of him. “Gojo.” He noticed Toji and Nanami behind him.
“Geto.” Gojo clears his throat and walks past him.
Geto nods and says something else. “Snow white bitch!” Gojo stops walking for a second and slowly turns around to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“Oh shit…” Choso said behind him.
Toji and Nanami glance carefully at Geto. “Geto, don’t you–” Gojo interrupted Nanami and jerked his head. “I’m a bitch! Very rich coming from you Geto.”
His voice was getting loud
“I’m just saying leave Y/N alone. She is doing just fine without you.” He says.
Gojo let out a fake laugh. “Oh, is she now?” He took a step toward him. “If she was doing so fine without me. Why you got another whore to keep you occupied until y/n is ready for you again, huh? Why does she see you as a joke and not her man to come home to.”
Geto's blood is boiling as his jaw clenches. “At least I know how to keep my bitches happy and my sunshine in check with where I see them in my life!” Gojo raised his voice a little loud.
Gojo was unaware that Geto's fists had made contact with his face. “Fuck you! Asshole!” Geto attacked him again as he shoved Gojo to the floor and jumped on top of him, punching him repeatedly.
“YOU THINK Y/N NEEDS YOU! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A SCUM AND A PATHETIC NOBODY!” Geto barked, punching Gojo again.
All he could see was red. He was tired of being treated as a joke and nobody taking him seriously.
“Hey…Hey.” It took Toji, Nanami and Chose to pull Geto off of him. “THAT’S ENOUGH GETO!” Toji hissed.
Toge and Sukuna ran over to help Gojo get off the floor. Gojo began to step forward, but Toge and Takuma held him. “You think I am going to kiss the ground you walk on. You are sadly mistaken.”
Gojo whispers in his ear harshly. “Keep playing with me Geto but know that you haven’t won that easy.” He walked off out the door with Toge and Takuma right behind him.
Geto moves away from Toji and Nanami trying to calm down. “Done making a fool of yourself?” Chose back leaned against the wall as his eyes were on him.
“We have a race to do and you are already ruining your reputation.” Toji shakes his head.
Nanami spoke softly. “For the record you should really seek therapy for all that anger.”
Geto shot Nanami with a disgusting look. “Shut the fuck up, Nan.”
“G, pull your shit together.” Choso moves his hat on his head and walks past him out the door.
Toji and Nanami shake their heads and walk out the door as well. Both of them can’t believe what they just witnessed between two men who are both friends with them.
Two minutes later, Geto stepped out the door and headed to his team garage, where his boss was staring at him and chatting with his assistant.
Shit!
He walked up to them as Christian started to yell at him. “Are you out of your bloody mind!?”
Geto sighs, feeling a slight headache. “He had it coming.”
Christian eyes widened. “Coming? You truly want to live up to your reputation of being a ladies magnet.”
He shrugs. “Boss, it’s not going to affect the team like that.” He was being a total smart ass right now.
Christian chuckled darkly. “You better fix your attitude quickly or you can kiss your career goodbye, Geto.”
Geto was getting frustrated and annoyed. He was starting to calm down when his assistant shoved his phone in his face. “You might want to see this, Mr.Suguru.”
He took a step back and saw what was on his phone. He noticed Gojo Satoru posted a picture with Y/N on his instagram page with a caption. It was a picture of Gojo laying his head on y/n lap with her hand touching his hair.
gojosatoru my sunshine knows I’m not replaceable @yourinstagram
Geto wanted to kill him. He was mad all over again. He grabbed his helmet from one of the employees and mashed it onto the ground.
Everybody paused what they were doing and glanced at him. “Alright, Geto you are not racing today. Go take the day off.” Christian told him.
He didn’t have time to deal with Geto bullshit. Geto took his phone from his assistant and headed inside the building to get his stuff. He packed his stuff in his bag as he held onto his car keys.
He zipped up his bag and walked out the door, hearing the fans scream. The camera crew was following him, but he wasn't concerned. He opened the door to his car and tossed his bag in the backseat.
He got inside his car, closing the door shut after the camera crew walked away. He sat in his car letting out a loud scream.
It was never this deep for him being caught up about a girl. He never acted like this before but now he starts to realize why a bunch of guys act this way over someone.
He turns the key in the ignition and hears the car roar. He fastens his seatbelt as he opens the glove compartment and takes out a flask. “Come to me.” He took a gulp from his flask.
He closed the cover of the flask and began to pump his foot on the gas pedal, speeding away. He kept driving while you were on his mind.
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lxmelle · 1 day
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Preliminary thoughts… the end of jjk: Chapter 271 - spoilers under cut.
Edit: I guess to summarise, it’s a long piece on some parallels, my interpretations of the end, satosugu-centric as always, general thoughts on Sukuna’s end, Gojo & Geto’s death, the processing of death, how we live on in the fragments of memories carried by others, etc.
Written based off these translations: https://x.com/kaidanatta/status/1839426420352983516?s=46&t=fRFF_o0I99NKUvzHwQHykA
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I liked how it openly depicted Gojo describing having the confidence he never had before.
It seems to me that he was peacefully accepting whatever came. He would do his best as he always did, but he had a vision to create a world that didn’t need “just one strong guy” - he vowed never to leave anyone alone again. I think it was both alone like him and alone like Geto.
Paths were meant to be trodden on together. And this vision was going to come true whether he survived or not. He would win either way.
Honestly, as sad and as much as things could have been better (for every single character, I might add), I’d rather someone die on their terms. Whatever happened to their bodies, regardless of how they died. If they were at peace with it themselves, having given their lives their all, then it is dignified. Better that’, than grovelling like Mahito, or resigned and regretful like Sukuna (although he did seem to be more at peace after leaving with Uraume - who, out of love, chose to die with him). And Sukuna, I think, at least realised he was partly human after all, and could look towards a “next time”. The monster did open up his heart in the afterlife - having lived one life in the only way he knew how.
Speaking of the afterlife...
And I wrote before about how I believe he didn’t die with any regret. And that Sukuna actively chose his own path, giving it his all - going by all that he knew - by rejecting love/humanity. Strongest. Until he wasn’t. Then (in the afterlife) he was free to choose. If there is a next time. It has a parallel to Gojo in that sense who was also shackled to his title and “blessings” as the one with six-eyes and limitless.
Link to some of my thoughts on Sukuna: https://www.tumblr.com/lxmelle/760769700430069760/sukunas-choice-i-was-truly-struck-by-his
Link to some of my thoughts on how Gojo didn’t die with regret: https://www.tumblr.com/lxmelle/757478555697512448/i-dont-think-gojo-died-dissatisfied-or-with-any even if he said he wasn’t completely satisfied, he actually did see Geto. And his smirk indicated he received Sukuna’s affirmation which was also important to him that he reached him in some way (and that his students would carry the torch).
Sukuna doesn't know if there will be another time. And assuming it’s Yorozu and Uraume he was thinking of… he knew love was an option in his life. No, it was not Gojo.
But, with him being a soul and after all that happened; in what he can do in the present, he is/was choosing to bring Uraume along. For someone who upheld that people and love didn’t matter, his actions and words are now depicting something else.
It’s nice character development. As Gege said, the only real evil was Mahito. And he didn’t want to fall in the trap of making people, “oh they’re good after all”. Sukuna did die like a villain but he may choose something else next time. Leaving it open to interpretation.
Speaking of confidence again… skip or skim this part if you don’t want to read too much about satosugu. It’s a bit repetitive but I think it’s part of putting all the pieces together.
So, confidence he never had? I think we are aware that Gojo knew he’d win either way: even if he lost. He was never really too attached to himself, just like how Geto wasn’t. His death, was on his terms, and his will would live on in a new world that was in the process of being created. Through the efforts of both Geto and Gojo - who were the strongest in the modern era - they had both vowed to change the jujutsu world.
Gojo lived with the humanity he opened his eyes to through Geto. This was the core of what I elaborated on in the KFC breakup.
Link here: https://www.tumblr.com/lxmelle/758154996699283456/the-kfc-breakup-was-about-friendship-more-than
Geto believed in Gojo...
....but Gojo didn’t believe in him at the time of the KFC breakup. That’s why they fought, with Geto retaliating (you could do it but you tell me I can’t?) when he saw that Gojo didn’t/couldn’t regard him as an equal human being with potential. He saw it as Gojo bullying the weak. The weak should keep the strong in check (not abuse their power). Because Gojo was strong, he, who could fulfil Geto’s dream, told Geto that it as impossible and pointless. How arrogant. How condescending.
Geto, who believed in and tried to nurture Gojo to develop his humanity. To not scare his juniors. To respect the elders. To fit in. To not be lonely, to love and be loved. That there was more than being strong for the sake of being strong.
Geto always believed in Gojo. Even if Gojo didn’t believe in himself. He always just followed the path laid before him. He never needed to question it...
And I think it was this that shook Gojo. He took their friendship for granted. The one thing he wanted, he couldn’t have. He couldn’t stop Geto.
He didn’t have the confidence to kill Geto. He didn’t see the point. It would hurt him. Gojo had become too human. He loved Geto. And… He didn’t have the confidence to follow Geto. It would also hurt him. He knew he would be rejected. He wasn’t strong enough to convince him. Protect him. Them.
It wasnt enough to be strong. It wasn’t enough to be Gojo Satoru the way he was.
He needed to have something he could be confident in too. And therefore Gojo changed.
Gojo was gifted and could never understand what it was to be human or to strive for something beyond what was laid out for him. He never thought he would need to treasure anything. When he saw someone he could relate to - someone he loved - seemingly throw everything away - including him the strongest, who could be the key to his success… his world collapsed.
It didn’t make sense.
Geto was going to chase his dream despite not being strong enough.
How did he get that confidence? Why do such a pointless thing?
I think this is one of the things Gojo was left wondering.
He felt left behind; how did Geto have that resolve? Why wasn’t he able to follow him? What was he afraid of? Was he afraid?
Geto admitted it was foolish, but he was going to give it his all, in spite of its pointlessness and his own lack of strength. Even if he wasn’t strong enough, was meaning and reason enough to fight for such an impossible dream?
And what more, he believed in Gojo. You could do it, Satoru. That Gojo could achieve what he wanted to do, in his own way. Who are you? What will you choose to do?
Yes, of course we know Geto knew that he himself had abused his power, and that he deserved to be killed by Gojo. That’s why the draft of ch78 was instrumental in understanding Geto’s true meaning and the meaning that Gojo derived from it. I think that love and confidence moved Gojo. It was what he was searching for, and chasing... Geto and what he represented to him.
You know, we can see from the surface that Geto was a “villain” for his methods. But, Gojo was not innocent either. They were more similar than people want to realise.
They made (and were willing to make) sacrifices for the sake of the future.
Geto, in more directly “sinful” / harmful ways - killing and getting his hands dirty to rid the world of the source of curses - unevolved humans. He was trying to raise a world of sorcerers who could exist in peace without curses with him being the sacrifice (his source of energy would cease as well, if he won).
Gojo, in more indirectly “sinful” ways that resulted in mass casualties- his hands were relatively clean - even if he did take the higher-ups’ lives in his own hands. He was trying to raise a world of sorcerers that would not rely on him with him being the sacrifice (his role as the strongest would end as well if he succeeded in being replaced).
It’s fitting too, isn’t it? Geto’s CT is to absorb. Gojo’s CT to repel. Dark, light. Yin, Yang.
On a side note: I had also hoped for a scene with his resting place or something like that to depict a final satosugu moment. And this as echoed in the X community. Some people were really hurt, sharing their dissatisfaction.
My thoughts on this… well… maybe an unpopular opinion, but I’ll share it anyway.
One of the reasons why Gojo wasn’t openly mourned is... I speculate, perhaps because he was viewed as part of the cause of what happened. The other teachers who didn’t have the weight of responsibility (that power and status bring) could afford to be cogs in the system. Changing things was always going to be difficult. Someone had to do it. Just depends on how… Right?
Gojo was just depicted as a difficult character within the series amongst the adults. He did things his way, didn’t communicate well, appeared to throw his strength around, talked down to people even if he didn’t mean to - and this shitstorm also happened because he took (what they/others thought were) unnecessary risks by saving Yuta and Yuji. And keeping Geto’s body by not cremating it.
This is their shortsighted view - because they probably did not know of his massive dream to shake up the jujutsu world. Again, Gojo is not a great communicator. What can ichiji (the only one we see him telling this dream to) do to assist Gojo with this revolution?
From their perspective, after all that stress with the real risk of more chaos occurring, the raging war, the casualties, the mess in the aftermath with barriers, etc. that all needs to be rebuilt… yeah - they aren’t going to have the time to think fondly of the guy who could be held accountable for it.
It sucks, but please understand- there is truth in their perspective too. Gojo probably was processed and buried in the end. Gege could only fit in a small exchange and I daresay it was really precious between what he and Yuji shared. I’m so happy he was at peace with things and felt the satisfaction of being a part of his students’ lives.
This was the world Geto and he had dreamed of. Allies working together. Strong allies. People who would not be forced to leave one another behind.
But to get there… Sacrifices did need to be made.
It just has to be accepted as what it was / is. They aren’t going to say thank you. But we as the reader can appreciate the whole picture for what it is.
Gojo was part of the problem as he was the solution,(that handpicked allies which also came with risk). Geto was part of the problem as he was the solution (that changed Gojo Satoru who could’ve been a monster). And the kids like Yuji were also part of the problem as they were the solution. That’s. Just... what it is.
If we are looking to pin the blame on something... well, just where do we begin? The jujutsu system is inherently the thing that “caused it all”. Maybe even right back to the days where tengen spread Buddhism around and Kenjaku and Sukuna were all kind of a part of it. We just don’t know where it all started. It worked once upon a time, until things change. Things will always change. But the higher-ups were greedy and wanted things to remain hierarchical as they were without the need for change. So when change came to their door step through a series of things, it was radical. Needed.
Anyway, it could be that they see it as him taking responsibility for the trouble he caused. This was his role as the strongest and he wanted that battle. He did what he could with what he had. And the children he saved were part of the solution at the end. Their own sins - like Maki’s massacre of the clan, etc. would all probably have a line drawn under it as part of this “revolution” that Gojo shouldered.
The dream began and ended. Gojo took responsibility. And I think, just as he wanted, they’ll now create something new from the rubble left behind.
He gave his life his all… achieved what he wanted (confidence, revolution, and left his will) and now in his afterlife, he has caught up to his best friend.
His one and only complex. His one and only best friend.
I may have more to add later on, but for now... thank you Gege Akutami. I look forward to your next work.
And thank you for drawing Geto with Gojo in the colour spread! 🫶
Thank you for reading if you made to the end! Sorry for rambling.
Thoughts? Feel free to comment! Happy to hear from others and engage 🫶
Edit: Yuji smiles like Gojo does now... not only does he remember his sensei, he is living out the dream. This is how live on - in the hearts of others. This is Gojo’s (and Geto’s) legacy. Yuji’s strength, different from Gojo, but similar in idealism, is that he is like everyone’s brother - and he will build strength with all allies.
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That’s my theory... it’s a fitting end and beginning of a new generation. Not limited to Yuji alone too. It’s really….. remarkable.
Second edit:
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still processing it all and hurts my heart to see the last Geto & Gojo that Gege is likely to draw 😫 I’m glad he is closest to Gojo and they even share the same colour (lol). It’s cute that he’s doing the peace ✌🏼 sign that Gojo has been seen to do (maybe more in the anime). And Gojo appears to have gestures that Geto’s patted him on the back. In the afterlife, I’m sure there’ll be the exchange of 「お疲れ様でした、悟。」
You did well, Satoru. You both did...
And in the top corner... white: Kashimo? And cropped jacket: Haibara?
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caplanbuckybarnes · 19 hours
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My Pieces Fit You (Jason Todd)
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Summary: Jason learns that you're not leaving him… ever.
Warnings: fluff & angst
WC: 862
Read on Ao3!
--
The low hum of the safe house enveloped the two of you as you sat on the worn-out couch, the dim light flickering overhead. Gotham was unusually quiet for once, but even that peace felt fragile—like everything else in Jason Todd's life.
He sat across from you, shoulders tense, his gaze averted. The Red Hood helmet lay discarded on the table between you, a stark reminder of the life he led and the walls he had built.
You watched him, your heart twisting in your chest. There was something in the way he held himself tonight, the quiet way he stared at the floor, that told you he was carrying something heavier than usual. Jason was many things—brash, stubborn, reckless—but vulnerable was not one of them. Not often, at least.
The silence stretched until it became unbearable, and you broke it softly. “Jay… talk to me.”
His jaw tensed at the sound of your voice. He didn’t look up, but you saw his fists tighten, white-knuckled, as though he was battling a storm inside of himself. You knew he didn’t do this—didn’t talk about the things that tore him apart from the inside. But you couldn’t stand the distance, the way he was shutting you out again.
“I don’t need to talk,” he muttered, voice low, barely a grumble.
“Jason,” you said again, this time firmer. You reached out, hesitating for a brief moment before placing your hand gently on his. He flinched at the touch, as though he wasn’t used to it—to the warmth, the comfort. You were always the one person who could get close, but even then, he kept a piece of himself hidden, locked away.
His head snapped up suddenly, eyes burning with a frustration you didn’t understand at first. “I don’t need you to fix me,” he spat, the words coming out harsher than he meant them to. Immediately, guilt flashed across his face, but he couldn’t take the words back.
You didn’t flinch, though his words stung. You’d heard it before—how he didn’t need anyone, how he had survived alone. But the thing was, you weren’t trying to fix him. You just wanted him to see that he didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his own.
“I know,” you whispered, your voice soft, a contrast to the fire in his. “I’m not trying to fix you. But you don’t have to keep everything locked up. Not with me.”
Jason stared at you, his eyes filled with something that scared him—something raw and real. His defenses were crumbling, and he hated it. He hated that you could see through him, hated that you cared enough to try.
“Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, his voice breaking, low and defeated. “Why do you keep coming back, even when I push you away?”
You smiled sadly, shaking your head. “Because I see you, Jason. The real you. Not just Red Hood, not just some guy trying to save Gotham. You.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, his chest heaving as though the weight of your words had knocked the wind out of him. For the first time, he didn’t look away. He just stared at you, something softening in his eyes.
“Every time I think I’ve got my life figured out,” he muttered, the words coming slowly, as though he was fighting each one, “you… you show up. And suddenly it’s like—” He paused, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he searched for the right words. “You’re the missing piece I never knew I needed.”
The confession hung between you, heavy and fragile.
Your heart skipped a beat, the vulnerability in his voice unraveling something inside you. Jason wasn’t one to admit his feelings easily, and this—this was more than you ever expected.
A quiet laugh escaped you, though your eyes glistened with emotion. “You don’t have to be alone in this, Jay,” you whispered, your thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jason let out a shaky breath, his walls finally crumbling. His eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened again, there was something softer, almost broken, in his expression. He reached out slowly, his hand covering yours, as if afraid that if he moved too quickly, you’d disappear.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Not after everything.”
You shook your head, leaning closer. “That’s not for you to decide.”
For the first time in a long while, Jason allowed himself to believe it—to believe that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to do this alone. That maybe you were the one thing he hadn’t known he was missing, the one person who made him feel whole again.
He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, his forehead resting against yours. The world outside was still dark and dangerous, full of enemies and battles to be fought. But in this moment, it didn’t matter.
Because in this moment, Jason Todd wasn’t Red Hood, and you weren’t just another person who’d end up walking away.
You were the piece that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he could find peace.
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Text
Updating yall early so I don’t forget this
Ok so, I brought Lupin into the mix and the responses were hilarious
Ofc i already told them Snapes backstory, so they already know about Lupin and his Lycanthropy (The Prank)
So, initially they were talking about Snape and Lupin working together
My Boss: Well, he handled it professionally. I mean, to take time out of your day to make medicine to help him with his condition is mature enough. I understand his initial upset about it though, this man is clearly traumatized
My fav coworker: professional my ass, I wouldn’t work with someone who almost killed me. Involuntarily or not, that’s traumatic. So, obviously I’m childish, I would’ve quite on the spot HAHAHA
Then that’s when I brought up Lupin forgetting to take his potion
My boss: He almost killed 3 students and the teacher…again? What do you mean he forgot? What kind of bullshit haha oh my god. This is a fucking joke
My fav coworker: *Didnt know what to say*
Then I bring in Snape outing Lupin and the Marauders stans interpretation of that (comparing it to outing a gay person) and I also told them Rowling’s intended interpretation of Lycanthropy (AIDS)
My boss: So I’m supposed to believe he’s in the wrong for telling everyone there’s a werewolf in a school full of children? He already proved he can’t fucking be trusted! What?
My fav Coworker: Wait, so the fans are comparing this to being gay? In what world is being gay a danger to children? That says a lot. Either they like to hear themselves talk or they made that comparison on purpose
My boss: At least I can see what it would mean with the AIDS comparison. It’s not pretty, but it makes a lot more sense. A grown man with an HIV can’t control himself and yadda yadda. The gay argument was cognitive dissonance at this point, because didn’t you say this side of the books fanbase is very LGBTQ centered? My ass
Ngl…I never thought of that shit💀 I still hate the aids comparison but good points boys
I gave them the counter argument that he ruined Lupins life and that he could’ve been killed or denied any future jobs
My boss: Well, shit, he almost killed 3 children because he couldn’t drink a damn potion! Hang him for all I care. And that’s typically what happens in real life when things like this happen. Maybe he wouldn’t get death row, but he’d definitely be locked up, and if he gets out, he’s gonna have a hard time in society. Womp womp
My fav coworkers: You guys cancel people for less, are they defending him for almost killing children? And almost killing Severus AGAIN, oh my goodness. We’re doomed as a society HAHA
Then I brought up the curse on the DADA position
My fav coworker: SO SEVERUS TECHNICALLY SAVED HIS DUMB ASS? Oh my gooodddd!
My boss: wow, I’m done. Work time
So that’s the conversation on Lupin so far. Obviously there’s a lot more stuff to cover
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myobsessionsspace · 16 hours
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https://www.tumblr.com/myobsessionsspace/762706692393795584/hello-now-that-weve-seen-all-eight-episodes-and?source=share
I agree with your thoughts here, especially the end paragraph. It’s not about affirming their romantic bond (bc actually that’s private) but just how important they are to each other, and whilst I would call that a ‘soft launch’ (though I dislike the term), and I do think that’s what they are doing, I get what you mean too.
I guess I don’t view it with a Korean lens, mainly bc I don’t consume any Korean content outside of BTS. I don’t value or pretend to understand how they view pretending to be queer acceptable, but it’s not acceptable to be actually queer. It’s outrageous. However, how I did view it was through an Army lens. If I was an Army who didn’t pay attention to them as a duo, because they are hardly lauded over, what is this show? And my take away is that they are the closet. I know Army see it, it’s why we see so many cultists and shippers spiralling right now. I also watched it with friends and my partner and they all saw the closeness and my partner (who doesn’t know them bc I don’t usually talk to them about bts) is sure they are together, just from watching episode 4 and later on 8 (they thought it was gay porn at one point but I digress).
I think that’s their intention, i am sure of it, it’s been building since chapter 2 and before, but yes, we as supporters see all of it. Their history. But the turning point to me from chapter 2 is firstly the book, the documentary, letter, their linked concepts and then the show and finally the enlistment. It’s a culmination of things that highlight them, just them two, as a duo, as something more than just two members of a 7 member band. The documentary highlighted this the most at first, given they were the only two featured together, it seemingly important for JK to be with Jimin whilst he told his story, the way it was edited amongst other members showing their homes and how they live alone. It was interesting at the time, then the travel show made it clear.
It’s the why of it, not just that it makes sense for it to be them who does the show. But why they did it (beyond wanting to spend time together) because although it does allow them to hide behind everything you’d said about what’s out there in SK anyway, it was still incredibly brave of them to make themselves vulnerable by showing their bond in such a way.
The main reason being they just cannot hide their intimacy, and anyone with a brain or experience of relationships can see this. It’s not necessarily the naked times in the hot tubs, it’s the small things, the domestic nature of their relationship, the intimacy is clear there, it’s how they care and how they are with each other, and yes they don’t have to say it with words, you can see it. It’s show and not tell, and I do think they knew this and wanted to be seen. And maybe Koreans themselves won’t see it bc they are blindsided but a lot of I Army are, bc we are all fans and they know this reaches all who want to see it, I think that’s why the first trip is in the US too, bc they were allowed to be themselves there, anonymous almost and they chose LGBT friendly places for a reason.
Then the enlistment also speaks volumes to me, it was obvious it was incredibly private to them (bc they didn’t say why they did it) but that’s the point, this is their real life we are talking about. They aren’t in in there as JK and JM of BTS, they are Jimin and Jungkook of Busan, fulfilling their duty as SK citizens. And they have gone together because they are each others safe space and home and this is what the show showed us, the why. Why they have done what they did. It lays it out for when they return, hopefully explains it to those who didn’t know or see how truly close they are, and hopefully they will be respectful of that.
That was my take away.
in response to this
Omg Yesss
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Thank you lovely, for taking the time to put down your thoughts 🤌
💜
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naturesapphic · 3 days
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HII! I LOVEEE the caregiver billie and little fem reader fanfics!! I was wondering if u could do an angst we’re the fans aren’t really supportive of the relationship (caregiver/little + them being together) and how billie will deal with it!
(Please never die I love your content)
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Not Real Fans
Caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader
Warnings: age regression, fans being mean, hurt/comfort, fluff, Billie being extremely protective over you
A/n: putting these two together since they are pretty much the same except that the last one didn’t ask for the reader to be little but I can write that soon with y/n not being little :)
Word count: 1,097
You knew being together with Billie would come with some challenges. Not being able to see her for long periods of time, her being gone a lot, and most importantly her fans. Billie absolutely loved her fans as they are pretty much the number one thing in their life. So when y’all got together she warned you about them and how they can be a big protective of her. You said you could handle them and that it would all be okay but you didn’t know how bad things were gonna get.
When y’all came out as a couple most of the fans absolutely adored you. They loved y’all’s relationship with Billie and knew that you would never hurt her. They loved you so much they even posted about how Billie better not hurt you which made you laugh. Of course, when you have something good, bad will come with it. You’ve seen certain comments and posts directed towards you about how you are no good for billie and how she can do so much better than you.
But it only gotten worse when you told your fans about how you age regress. Of course some were very confused and skeptical. Others were not supportive but most of your true fans loved you no matter what. Sadly, that’s when the real hate came in on you. They made fun of your age regression and say how disgusting and wrong that is, and how dare you rope billie into it. It was truly horrifying all the horrible stuff being said to you, but alas you couldn’t tell billie about it.
She cared way too much for them and you weren’t gonna be the person to change that. So you will suffer in silence and try to block it out but on this particular day you couldn’t. You were regressed and playing games on your mommy’s phone when a notification caught your eye. “Billie probably has other girls/littles besides y/n. I wouldn’t want to deal with her annoying ass all the time.” The comment said and you felt your eyes burn with tears. You knew deep down billie would never do that to you and y’all’s relationship.
But the comment was replaying over and over in your brain and since you were regressed you really thought she had others which made you upset. You turned off her phone and buried your face in the couch cushions as you sobbed. Billie was in the kitchen making you a snack when she heard sobs coming from the living room. She stopped what she was doing and ran into the living room to see you face down in the couch cushions sobbing. Billie went over to you and got on her knees beside you, rubbing your back.
“What’s wrong with my sweet baby hm?” She asked as she tried to sooth you. You sniffled and pulled your face away from the cushions to look at your mommy who had a worried expression on her face. “N-notings…”. You whispered and she frowned. “Baby come on…don’t keep things from mommy…”. She said and you whimpered. “Nu wan chus mads at mes.” You said, your bottom lip quivering. “Babygirl I could never be mad at you, especially when you are crying right now. You can tell mommy anything…”. She said softly, bring her hand to your face to wipe away the remaining tears.
You told her about the mean fans and their comments they make about you and the posts. You saw the sudden shift in her gaze and she knew that she was pissed. How could her fans make you feel this way? She loves her fans but she draws a line when they come for her little baby. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Mommy will take care of it okay?” She reassured you and you nodded before opening your mouth again, telling her about the comment you just saw. “Hey. I don’t have other girls or littles. Not when I have the most perfect girl ever! Which is you by the way princess. You are the only baby I ever want. No one or nothing can replace you. You have my heart babydoll.” She said softly, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your forehead.
You gave her a small smile and then she started to tickle you so you would smile which worked. Your giggles filled the entire house and she pulled her hands away when you kept telling her to stop. “Can mommy have her phone for a second doll?” She asked and you grabbed her phone from beside you and handed it to her. She went on Instagram and took a picture of y’all’s hands intertwined and made a Instagram story about how the haters needed to fuck off and leave her girl alone. That if anyone keeps sending in hate that she will make sure that they are all blocked and handled with. She posted the story and she told you about what she had posted.
“Mommy…chu Nu has to dos dats…”. You tell her and she shakes her head smiling. “Even though they are my fans, the ones who are sending you hate aren’t my true fans and I will not stand for it.” She explained and you nodded, moving to get on her lap. She wraps her arms around you and pulls you close to her. “I love you babygirl…so so much…I will always protect you. No matter what.” She reassures you and you smiled against her chest. “Wuv mommy mores…”. You replied and she chuckled, placing a sweet kiss on the top of your head. No matter who it is, no one will get away with hurting her girl.
A/n: thank you to these two anons for the request. I hope them and the rest of y’all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all :)
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eyedoeluhn · 14 hours
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Surprise, I think Brocktons celestial forge is handling characters badly. I don’t think the current “main pairing” (used loosely as possible since it’s one date) for our main character, Joe, is good. At all.
Crystal/Joe is at best extremely bland and basically nonexistent in the ideal platonic form of BCF that exists in a plane of perfect forms. In the real world I think it’s pretty creepy and Joe is also a massive piece of shit.
For context, to those uninitiated to BCF Joe is an ‘oc’ based off of a canonical character who is mentioned in one line and never named or expanded on. Specifically he is the man who attended college with Parian and contributed to her trigger by pressuring her to date him. That is a can of worms for another post because my god is this a terrible decision and Parian is handled fucking horribly. But LordRoustAbout has taken it on himself to expand with details on this event.
there’s an attempt to make Joe sympathetic, his perusal of Parian was fueled partially by a total social ineptitude and the spurring of his classmates, and he also found the entire situation harmful and ended up dropping out partially related to this and it tied into his own trigger event. Which….alright, whatever. But this did leave Joe with an aversion to romance and also apparently an incurable inability to understand it beyond bare minimums despite eight million powers related to it. This came up several times as online shipping is a major concern for Lord and thus Joe, but he didn’t have a love interest until Crystal.
The dissolution of New Wave is a major part of BCF. Frequently we have paused to see their points of view on how much of a big deal this is. In short, Joe, in a move at the time was unilaterally acknowledged as really fucking stupid but then he now pretends wasn’t his fault, confronts Panacea after arming the Undersiders for the bank job which went significantly worse for the Wards. He acknowledges he’s the person who did this, then goes on a long rant about what his ‘fanon shard’ has told him and trigger theory, basically bringing up Panacea’s actual father but more importantly the fact that there’s been infidelity within New Wave. This entire conversation is recorded and gets back to them. This is consequentially a huge fucking deal and is also timed just right to fuck over a lot of New Wave’s operations just in time for shit to get serious. So the city is fucking falling apart and basically looks like the Leviathan decided to pop in early with eight million effects, and Crystals entire family (yes including Lightstar, it was bad enough that he moved all the way back just to try and mediate the situation)is actively also falling apart, and these are both directly Joe’s fault. Now, you say, well to be nice to Joe it’s not his fault that Brandish and Manpower fucked or anything. Which is true, he didn’tcause the rift, but he is the one who voluntarily instigated the situation it for literally no reason for what became the worst possible moment, and is now not telling Crystal this.
Joe has met Crystal around three times, once in college, once at an event where she asks him out because he’s so hot and once on a date. The amount of stress Crystal is under as both her family life and her life in Brockton literally falls apart at the seams is pretty blatantly clear. Joe just does not fucking care. He does not find it that weird that he’s lying to this woman to date her about not knowing intimate details about her life or interfering with it. She has absolutely no idea Joe is the fucking maniac terrorizing her city or is the guy who got her cousin locked up for this entire time and destroyed her position as a cape either. She is completely oblivious, which I find extremely fucking weird.
Also this is WORM. Crystal is like, eighteen, nineteen or something like that. The most generous possible aging of Joe is in his early twenties. I think literally every part of this relationship gives me the creeps. I want Joe to stay far away from her.
Oh, and the date chapter produced what for me personally is in the running for one of the worst moments in all of BCF.
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What. The. Fuck.
Joe. What the FUCK is wrong with you?
the entire city is a fucking warzone because of him. Until like, five minutes ago, there was active lava flow, giant streaks of frozen land, FUCKING GLASS SHARD CLOUDS. Half the city is under a field that blocks all electrical devices from fucking working, there’s giant craters and the Protectorate, New Wave, PRT, police department, hospitals, and firefighters were all targeted during the attacks so they’re operating at half fucking capacity with a million other problems that are half because Joe didn’t want to use more than one robot (DESPITE SHOWING HE COULD INSTANTLY FABRICATE MORE HIS FIRST OUTING) and half things he could fix instantly but chooses to not, and one hundred percent things directly attributed to him.
So, Brook here is telling Joe about the fact that she is fucking volunteering with multiple groups to raise funds and help the community in this absolute fucking mess that he caused, a completely normal COLLEGE STUDENT (Joe is a fucking dropout) with NO POWERS who is doing MORE THAN JOE EVER HAS to help these people
and his first instinct is to snark that obviously her major is easy.
Joe.
YOU DROPPED OUT. You lazy, malicious piece of shit are going to sit here and give this woman shit for cleaning up your mess. You aren’t fucking funny. You’re evil, frankly, and this entire date pains me to read. This isn’t funny. This isn’t endearing. I don’t feel happy that Joe is being ooh relatable he’s getting snippy. I feel frustrated that he’s avoided any meaningful effort to anything positive and then regards this random person who’s been perfectly nice to him and is frankly an incredible human being with derision.
fuck you joe. Jesus Christ.
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Text
This is a long post but not a vent its the opposite of a vent ykwim like a long happy rant
I love you all so much.
Maybe I’m just all dramatic and emotional because I’m on my period, maybe because I’m writing this late at night and I’m gonna think it’s really cringe in the morning, but I love you guys so much. Tumblr has brought me so much joy. I’ve been here for maybe three or four months now? And I can’t really think of a time in my life where I was happier. 
I first made an account after scrolling aimlessly. I would go onto the tumblr website and it would let me search a bit until it was like “you need to make an account to keep going!!” And then I’d just close it and move on. But then one day I decided  hey what the heck just do it. So I made an account, and I didn’t really know what I was doing. I came up with this username because I liked conan gray, I gave myself  a daphne blake profile picture because she has red hair, and just kinda explored. 
I looked through tags of fandoms I love like the inheritance games and pjo and shatter me and even scythe (which was when i was then brought to the realization that the aoas fandom really is dead everywhere even here😔). But I just kinda explored.
Then I found all you guys, the cute aesthetic tumblrinas! And omg I thought everyone was so cool. Pretty much everyone I’m mutuals with now is someone who i found their blog and was like OMG I WANNA BE ONE OF THEM!! I loved the friendships and the connection and just seeing everyone interact made me so happy. I think one of the first people to follow me back was Belle and I remember I legit freaked out because omg!! Shes so cool!! 
Now that I’m telling the story it’s a little embarrassing, but it’s fine. I just know I was slowly growing my blog and meeting new people but I still didn’t feel like I had real friends, it hadn’t been that long. But I think it all kinda happened after I accidentally deleted my account, and I sent panic asks to everyone. And you guys were so nice and so sweet and for a lot of people it was some of the first interactions we had. 
I have the world’s worst memory, but it just kinda took off from there. 
And now I am friends with all you guys!! I’m so incredibly glad I decided to make this blog that day because omg. I’d seen people talk about online friends but I’d never had any. But now?? OMGG I UNDERSTAND!!! I finally have people who are just as obsessed with the books/tv/movies/music/everything that I am!! 
My friends IRL are nice, they’ve read the books I read, but I cant talk to them the way I do you guys, yknow? Tumblr is literally just such a safe space for me. I have a bad day, come online, and my mood is lifted. It makes me so happy and it also makes me feel so validated for whatever weird interests or feelings I have! I have a weird thought? Post it to tumblr! It’s just so amazing, how there’s people all over the world who care about me even a little, even just enough to like my shitposts. 
I’ve even infiltrated both the shatter me and tig roleplays, and I’ve really just done everything I could’ve hoped for when I joined tumblr. I used to be the one watching everyone interact, and now I am the one interacting! I don't think you guys understand how much you all mean to me. Especially as someone with bad social anxiety, who struggles with making friends irl. I also don’t believe in popularity in schools, thats stupid, but technically i’m not a “popular kid.” So I have friends, but not a billion. But here? Everyone is friends on tumblr!! It’s so amazing. I love you all so much. 
That’s long and honestly pretty sappy, also yall probably don't care about my whole tumblr history and how i got here (plus no one asked), but I felt like i wanted to share. There’s so much more I wanna say, but surprisingly enough as a writer, I’m not always the best at expressing my feelings over writing. My love language is physical touch, not words of affirmation. Which suckss cause i cant give you guys that. But this is as good as i can get. 
So thank you to everyone, my mutuals and followers and whatever. Thank you for being so loving. Thank you for being stupid with me. Thank you for listening to me rant about nonsense. Thank you for liking my posts. thank you for being here. Thank you for making me feel safe.
Cause every time I get a notification, I smile. It’s hard not to, when I know everyone is so amazing. I hope you think of me when you listen to heather, because I always think of you when i listen to online love. Anyway, I love you all. I hope we meet one day. Actually, scratch that. We will  meet one day. That is a threat :)
LOVE YOU ALL MUAH MUAH MUAH IM BREAKING INTO YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOW BTW WERE GONNA WATCH HALLOWEEN MOVIES AND HAVE HOT CHOCOLATE AND GO TO THE PUMPKIN PATCH AND DO A BIG GROUP COSTUME AND GO TRICK OR TREATING TOGETHER GET READY 😋😋
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wiltedflowerpetals · 3 days
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🪻 anon again!
And omg I loved the ask so much, thank you!!
👉👈 would I be able to ask for something with Fade, (Kinda specific here) whos S/O is secretly an enemy/kingdom agent, but when she looks into their nightmare she finds it's them losing her.
Ahhh, 🪻, thank you so much for the new request!! I'm so happy that you enjoyed the previous one! x3 And I'm so happy to have a Fade request! Fade is after all one of my fav agents aaahhh!! I also loved the angsty part of it, or at least I tried to write it a bit angsty! I hope that you liked this as well and have a great day!!💕
Words: 566
Warning: fluff, a bit angsty, kingdom agent and protocol agent are a couple, death, blood
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⇢ You loved each other so damn much. More than words could describe your love
⇢ And you would do everything for her.
��� Except for one thing…
⇢ Telling her that you were a kingdom agent.
⇢ Yeah, she would probably hate be angry that you kept this important fact a secret, but who could blame you? You didn’t want to lose her, so of course you haven’t told the love of your life that you were actually her… enemy… Oops.
⇢ At first you were quite lucky. She never knew that and never question your sometimes weird behavior, as Fade thought that you were just a bit awkward. No big deal. That’s how you always were… right?
⇢ But luck wasn’t on your side on this day…
⇢ Fade often visited you at your place, so you could have lunch together or sleep in bed, after a long day, just like today.
⇢ “Canım, what’s wrong?” She asked you, as she sat next to you, holding her cup of coffee that she had prepared in a cezve a couple of minutes ago.
⇢ “Mh? Oh, nothing, Hazal.” You said, kissing her cheek. “Tamam, aşkım, but talk to me if you have any problems.”
⇢ You nod your head. Of course you will do it…
⇢ Not.
⇢ You were tossing and turning in bed, sweat dropping from your forehead, as the nightmare got worse.
⇢ “Aşkım…?” Fade opened her eyes, as she felt you move next to her.
⇢ As she looked at you, she knew that something was wrong.
⇢ A nightmare?
⇢ You usually didn’t have nightmares.
⇢ Your radiant girlfriend used her powers on you to see your nightmare and when she saw them, she was shocked.
⇢ Hazal saw you in your uniform that you always wore during missions for kingdom. You seemed to talk to someone and when Hazal went into your direction, she saw herself. You two apparently argued and then Fade heard a gunshot.
⇢ Somebody had shot her.
⇢ Blood escaped her wound, as she fell onto her knees.
⇢ You ran to her, holding her into your arms as you cried. Another kingdom agent has killed Fade and went away, leaving you there with your dead girlfriend in your arms.
⇢ You plead for her to stay awake, told her that you loved her and never wanted to lie to her. You never wanted this to happen. You hated it. You were scared. Not for yourself, but for her.
⇢ She realized it then, as you talked to her other self…
⇢ Your biggest nightmare came true.
⇢ Losing her was your nightmare and the reason why you never told her your secret.
⇢ Hazal’s eye teared up and the real Fade looked at your sleeping form
⇢ She slowly moved to you, hugging you tightly
⇢ “Canım, wake up… You are dreaming.”
⇢ Slowly you woke up from her touch, tears wetting your cheeks as you stared at her. “Hazal…?”
⇢ “You will never lose me.”
⇢ That was the day Hazal Eyletmez finally found out about her s/o’s secret.
⇢ And even though her s/o was her enemy, she promised to never leave them.
⇢ “But I’m a kingdom agent….”
⇢ “I know… But won’t have to breakup, because of our different affiliations…”
⇢ “I love you…”
⇢ “I love you too, canım.”
Canım = "my dear," "my darling," or "my soul"
Aşkım = "my love"
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🔖 Taglist: xxx
Masterlist ❀ Askbox/Requests ✿ Navigation
Reblogs and comments are appreciated. ( ‘ω’ )
© nanamisflowerfield/wiltedflowerpetals. Do not repost, rewrite, plagiarize my work.
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uchispeach · 12 hours
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Sycamore Tree (Ch. 3)
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Dark! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader
Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, dub-con / non-con touching & kissing, obsessive & manipulative behavior, Rafe is a bit scary in this…
This fic will contain dark content: such as dub-con/ non-con and violence. You have been warned.
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Almost a week has passed by since you last saw Rafe, still, he had found the way to make himself present throughout the days.
He texted you regularly, checking up on you; making questions like “How are you?”, “Have you eaten yet?”, “Where are you?” and his favorite one: “Who are you with?”
You would be lying if you said you didn’t find his interest sweet; most of the time matching his energy and taking as much interest for his daily life as he did for yours.
The texts were numerous but there were ones more memorable than others, such as the day you finally reunited the courage to ask for Topper.
You still remember his response: “I’m taking care of that, doll” You remember getting flustered by the nickname and almost throwing your phone out of the window.
“Y/N!” Your sister shouted as you continued to submerge yourself on your phone. “Topper hasn’t pressed charges yet…Jennifer told me.” Right, you remembered her mentioning it before. “I know…I think there’s a big chance he won’t” Your eyes left the screen to look excitedly at the brunette, not expecting the frown on her face.
“Pfft” She let out an incredulous sound. “That just means he’s planning something else…something worse than jail.” That took you by surprise, causing you to stand up and reach out for the younger girl. “Why would you think that?” Your face morphed into a worried one.
“You really think he’d let JJ alone out of the kindness of his heart…No Y/N! Kooks always get their way.” You bit your lower lip, holding yourself from revealing the real reason Topper wasn’t bothering the Pogues anymore.
“Let’s just wait for a few more days…There is no need to be paranoid!” You tried your best to sound comforting, either way, Kie sighed out in exasperation, stomping away and leaving you alone to sink in your own guilt.
(…)
“I’m thinking pastel pink…but, what do you think?” You tilted your head while staring at the nail polish container. When silence was all you received, you decided to gaze at the dark haired girl. “Jennie!” She finally looked away from her device. “Hmm?” Her tone confirmed she had no idea what you were talking about.
“You’ve been distracted all afternoon” You pouted while supporting your knees on her soft mattress. “I’m sorry! I’ve been texting with-” Her words were interrupted by the harsh sound of a car’s engine. You noticed her senses being alerted as she adopted an apologetic look. “Please, don’t get mad!”
“When have I ever gotten mad at you?” You questioned as knocks were heard on the ground floor. “Well, you now just might.” The smile following her sentence was awkward.
The knocks intensified and Jennifer didn’t doubt before running down the stairs. “Wait!” You shouted right behind her as you skipped a step or two to get down faster.
The only answer you got from your friend was a fit of giggles, and soon you were both facing the main door. Out of breath you stared at the tall shadow of what seemed to be three guys. “Who did you invite?” The taller girl ignored you, unlocking the door at an inhuman pace.
The wide crystal door was out of the way now, letting in the group of young men. “Hello there, girls!” Kelce greeted you excitedly while raising his busy hands in the air.
Topper followed right behind, wearing an uninterested face while holding a cooler with his right arm. You could almost swear you saw him frowning in annoyance when he saw you in front of him.
Then, there was Rafe; standing proudly with his hands in his pockets, wearing a pair of expensive sunglasses and a predatory grin.
“Hi, doll” His voice was deep and confident, giving you a few goosebumps. “It’s…It’s nice to see you” You spoke shyly, slightly intimidated by his proximity.
He softly chuckled. His strong chest rumbled, showcasing some of the veins in his brawny arms. “I’m delighted too” He joked as you felt the heat of his skin on your nape and his heavy palm squeezing your shoulder. “Now, let’s have some fun” He whispered into your ear.
(…)
The laughs echoed throughout the entire house, and you couldn’t help but let out a muffled giggle as you saw the dark haired boy lifting up your friend and threatening to throw her in the pool once again. “Kelce, stop!”
Even Topper left his grumpy state for a few seconds and decided to smile a little. Both him and the Cameron boy had pulled out a blunt, sharing it and causing you to cough more than a few times.
You were seated on the same beach chair as the blond, forced to support part of your back on his naked chest. He didn’t seem to mind though, going as far as holding you steady by throwing his arm around your neck and over your chest.
Your nervousness levels had reached the roof when his fingertips had accidentally rubbed against your breast; and the blond could feel it exuding from your body:“You’re so tense. Relax.” He looked at you through the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry” You stared back, embarrassed at your own body’s reaction.
“You’re always apologizing.” You weren’t sure if it was a complaint or not, still, you apologized once again. Realization hit you as you saw him smirking harder. “Don’t worry, I like it. It’s cute.” You were growing more flustered by the minute. “Just as cute as this little skirt you’re wearing.” Your heart felt like it was about to explode from how hard it was beating.
You took a deep breath, doing your best to pull your anxiety aside. “And…I like your sunglasses.” You struggled forming a whole sentence.
And with a wave of newfound boldness, you finally took the decision to reach out for the boy’s face.
Your fingertips hesitantly caressed the side of his face before fixing the sunglasses’ crooked position “…But, I like it better when your eyes aren’t covered.”
“Say less” Rafe took you by surprise as he abruptly tore the accessory from him and discarded it to the side like a piece of trash. “Rafe!” You laughed out loud at the shocking display. He sent you a childish look before holding you closer to him.
Once you were able to tame your chuckles down, the intensity of his eyes on your lips made your whole body freeze. Intimacy between you two only grew stronger as his palm positioned itself on your neck’s side, seemingly not getting enough of your body’s warmth.
“Y/N!” The sudden appearance of Jennifer made you pull away from the blond. And as her hands shook you by the shoulders, you couldn’t help but jump out in surprise. “Jen, calm down. You’re going to get her dizzy.” Rafe was quick to intervene, pulling you flush against his chest. “Let’s get in the pool” She said cheerfully while ignoring his words.
“I don’t know-” She shook her head frenetically. “Come on!” You could feel the enthusiasm leaking out of her pores. “…But I don’t even have a swimsuit” You argued, quickly shut down by your friend’s proud response: “I have a solution for that!”
(…)
“Stunning!” The taller girl cheered you up, noticing the way you scanned your body on the full length mirror. The pink checkered bikini had small bows on the straps, immediately making it your first choice.
Jennifer continued praising your figure until a loud noise interrupted her. “Was that glass shattering?” Her face morphed into worry itself. “Guys!” She shouted before leaving the room and running downstairs.
“Alright” You sighed while continuing to dissect your reflection. A ringtone went off, making you lose your focus. “Everything okay?” You said loudly while saving your clothes on the tote bag sitting right next to the phone.
“Hi, Y/N. Yeah…Everything’s pretty great.” Pope sounded relaxed, allowing you to steady your breathing. “You don’t know how comforting it is to hear that.” Relieve leaked through your soft voice, making the boy smile at the other side of the speaker.
“Yeah, I know…I really thought it was over for us.” His voice still had some remains of fear in it. “Don’t say that!…Hey P, just wanted to let you know I’m not with Kiara.” You bit your lower lip while struggling to fit your umbrella in the bag.
“I mean…I called ‘cause I wanted to talk to you.” He shyly revealed. “Oh!…of course. How have you been doing?” There was a short silence before he replied: “I’m just feeling a bit down.” You frowned, quickly taking the device in your hand. “Why?…Did you and the boys fight?” You got no response. “Whatever it is, you know I’m here for you.” You were quick to remember the boy your unconditional support.
Your friend’s answer was overshadowed by the sudden sound of heavy steps. You instinctively looked around, your eyes finally setting on the door. “…we had to hide for days. And I guess it really affected me not being able to step outside, not even for a quick sec’ and- and I missed you too.” The steps stopped, only replaced by a growing shadow peaking under the door.
“Y/N?” You were brought back into the conversation. “I missed you too, Pope.” You hoped the boy didn’t notice the distraction on your tone. “Then, let’s see each other. Tomorrow!” Enthusiasm leaked through the speaker.
“Tomorrow?…We can’t, I’m sorry. Kie and I have to help my parents’ at The Wreck.” The dark haired boy continued to speak, unfortunately, your mind only allowed you to catch on a few words. “What about Friday? We can all meet at The Château.” You interrupted him.
“Oh! That works too.” The steps could be heard again, stopping you from hearing the disappointment in Pope’s voice. “I’m counting the days!” You smiled lightly. “Bye then. Love you!” You said before hanging up.
The commotion of someone bursting inside the bedroom made you jump. “Rafe!” You gripped your chest, feeling your agitated heartbeat under the fingertips. “Rafe?” He moved without saying a word, an indecipherable look on his face.
You felt like hiding when his eyes lingered up and down your figure, taking their time to analyze every centimeter of skin. “I got lost on the way to the bathroom.” His features were still stoic.
“It’s the first door-” “I remember that scar.” Your feet instinctively took some steps back as you saw him moving forward. The wooden floor cracked under his heavy legs.
“That one” He clarified while your back hit the wall. His fingers superficially traced the white horizontal line that decorated your thigh’s side. Rafe took his time redrawing the thing, applying some pressure with his thumb.
“You were trying to help that feral cat.” He squeezed harder, causing you to flinch. The pain made you remember, it was a rainy afternoon at Tannyhill; you had spotted a trembling kitten hanging on from an old tree’s branch.
“Always caring for the ones who don’t deserve it.” You had managed to wrap your frail arms around the poor thing before you had both fallen down. “I never understood it.” His free palm reached out for your jaw, grabbing firmly onto the side of it.
“I guess you’re too kind for your own good.” And as he lightly shook your head, you remembered the fall, the pain of the piece of glass cutting through your skin and the fierce teeth of the feline burying into your arm.
His breath felt overwhelming over your mouth, but even more so as his lips brushed yours in delicate caresses.
You trembled as his other hand stopped toying with your thigh, and reached for the meat of your ass. He gave it a rough squeeze while sinking his teeth into your lower lip.
You tried to pull away from the discomfort but the blond kept you still with his brute force. You knew better than to continue pushing once you started feeling the metallic taste of your own blood.
Tears started forming once you were forced to gasp in pain. Rafe saw it as a chance, slipping his tongue in.
The kiss was like nothing you had experienced before, so passionate and hungry you could almost feel the desperation on your bones.
The Cameron boy explored your whole mouth with his wet muscle, making you go out of breath. His lips moved over yours with experience, while all you could was hold onto his naked chest -hoping not to faint from the lack of air-.
You desperately tried to pull back as soon as your vision grew blurrier, and after a few tugs the blond finally gave in. Your choked coughs echoed through the whole bedroom.
“You taste…so sweet.” He got all over your face, closely analyzing the tears that streamed down your puffy cheeks.
“Hey, don’t cry” He whispered right before licking the salty liquid on your left cheekbone. “I’m sorry” You weren’t exactly sure what you apologized for, still, you felt the need to.
Both of his palms were now squeezing each side of your face, maintaining you on the same spot as he kissed you over and over again.
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A/N: I finished writing this at a government office while trying to get a new birth certificate.
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calirph · 1 day
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𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.
you will find dialogue sentences and prompts based on enemy houses, like the capulets and montague in romeo and juliet. change pronouns, name and location as you see fit.
Antagonistic
"Your family will never rule these lands, not while I draw breath."
"The blood of your house stains our soil, and we will never forgive it."
"Every time I see your banner, it reminds me of the cowardice of your kin."
"My ancestors swore vengeance, and I intend to deliver it."
"You think peace is possible after all you've done?"
"We don't forget, and we certainly don't forgive."
"Your father was a traitor, and you’ll meet the same end."
"I’d rather die than let your kind share our land."
"The name of your house is a curse in my hall."
"There can be no peace between us—not after what your brother did."
"Your family's honor was lost generations ago."
"You dare speak of alliances after the bloodshed your family caused?"
"The hatred between our houses runs deep, and so will my sword."
"You wear that crest like it means something, but it’s nothing more than a mark of shame."
"We were enemies before you were born, and we will be enemies long after you’re dead."
"Your loyalty is as false as your promises."
"Our houses have always been at war, and nothing you say will change that."
"Do you really think a truce will wash away the sins of your ancestors?"
"The feud between us will never end—not until one house falls."
"You were born into hatred, just like me."
Friendly
"Our families may be at odds, but that doesn't mean we have to be."
"Perhaps we can rise above the feuds of our fathers."
"It’s time our houses found common ground, don’t you think?"
"Just because they fought doesn’t mean we must continue their battles."
"There’s no reason we can’t build something new between us."
"We may be from rival houses, but we can still find peace."
"Our families might be at war, but I see no reason why we should be."
"The feud has gone on long enough—it’s time for us to end it."
"I believe there’s more that unites us than divides us."
"Let’s be the ones to break the cycle of violence between our houses."
"I see potential in an alliance that our families refuse to see."
"Our fathers may hate each other, but we don’t have to."
"We’re more than the bloodlines we were born into."
"Your house and mine can do great things if we choose unity over conflict."
"The time for fighting is over—it’s time for healing between us."
"We have the power to change the story between our houses."
"I believe in peace, even if our houses don’t."
"Our houses have been fighting for centuries, but what if we didn’t?"
"Maybe we’re the generation that can end this."
"If we join forces, there’s nothing our houses can’t accomplish."
Ambiguous
"Your house is my enemy, yet I find myself questioning why."
"Are we enemies, or are we simply two sides of the same coin?"
"I was raised to hate you, but I don’t even know why anymore."
"There are times I wonder if we’re truly different at all."
"We wear different colors, but how different are we, really?"
"Do we fight because we must, or because we’ve forgotten how not to?"
"It’s strange to think how easily I could have been born into your house."
"We stand on opposite sides, but the line between us is so thin."
"I don't know whether to trust you or kill you."
"There’s a fine line between being rivals and being allies."
"Sometimes I wonder if this feud is even ours, or if we’re just playing roles."
"There’s more at play here than just our houses’ grudges."
"I’ve always wondered how different my life would be if I had been born into your family."
"Do we fight because of who we are, or because of who they tell us to be?"
"Sometimes I think this war is nothing but an illusion."
"We stand apart, yet sometimes I feel we’re not so different."
"Is this conflict even real, or are we just following an ancient script?"
"Our houses may be enemies, but I wonder what that even means anymore."
"I’ve been told to hate your house all my life, but I can’t help but feel there’s more to the story."
"What if we could rewrite the fate of our houses together?"
Forbidden Romance
"No one can know about us. If they find out, our houses will burn."
"We belong to rival houses, but I can't stop thinking about you."
"They would kill us both if they knew what we’ve done."
"Every kiss is a risk, but I’d risk it all for you."
"Loving you means betraying my house, but I don’t care."
"You’re the one thing I can never have, and it makes me want you more."
"We can never be together, not as long as our families are at war."
"I would leave everything behind for you, but they would never allow it."
"Our love is forbidden, but I’ve never wanted anything more."
"You and I are a scandal waiting to happen, and yet I can’t stay away."
"Being with you feels like treason, but it’s the only truth I know."
"The more they tell me to stay away from you, the closer I want to be."
"We’re enemies, and yet I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone."
"I’ll burn the banners of my house if it means I can be with you."
"We’re not supposed to be together, but I can’t live without you."
"Every secret meeting puts us in danger, but I’ve never felt so alive."
"Loving you is treason, but losing you would be worse."
"We may be from rival houses, but when I’m with you, nothing else matters."
"I’m supposed to hate you, but I’ve never wanted anyone more."
"We belong to opposite sides, but my heart only knows one truth—you."
Prompts
Write a scene where two heirs from rival houses meet in secret, unsure if they can trust each other.
Explore the moment when two childhood friends from enemy families meet again as enemies on the battlefield.
Describe the feelings of a character as they receive an unexpected letter from a sworn enemy proposing peace.
Write about a forced marriage between two members of rival houses, and how they navigate their conflicting loyalties.
Create a scene where an antagonist character saves someone from the rival house, but neither side can know.
Write about two characters from opposing houses who secretly meet every year on a battlefield to commemorate a lost loved one.
Explore the thoughts of a character who is torn between loyalty to their house and love for someone from the enemy side.
Create a confrontation where a character must decide whether to kill a captured enemy, who is also their former friend.
Write about two characters from rival houses realizing their childhood rivalry was manipulated by others.
Explore a conversation where two enemy leaders meet in secret to negotiate, but one has hidden intentions.
Write a scene where a forbidden romance is revealed during a public feast, causing shock and anger.
Describe a tense moment where two enemies from different houses must rely on each other to survive.
Write about the discovery of an old alliance between two enemy families that threatens to upend a current war.
Explore the perspective of a character who is being forced into a marriage to end a generations-long feud.
Write a scene where a character challenges their enemy to a duel but hesitates, recalling a shared moment of kindness.
Explore the internal struggle of a character who falls in love with someone from the enemy house during wartime.
Write about a secret tryst that leads to betrayal when the lovers are caught by their respective families.
Create a scene where two enemies are forced to work together to uncover a plot that threatens both their houses.
Write about an ambassador sent to negotiate peace between warring houses, only to fall for someone on the enemy side.
Explore a scene where two characters from enemy houses are mistaken for allies and must keep up the ruse.
Write about a character who is raised to hate a rival house but begins to question that hatred after meeting someone from it.
Create a confrontation where an enemy’s child is saved by a sworn rival, complicating the feud.
Write about a forbidden relationship that is discovered just as a major battle between the two houses begins.
Explore the emotions of a character whose wedding to an enemy is meant to secure peace but who feels trapped by it.
Write about a family member who betrays their house by allying with the enemy out of love or friendship.
Create a scene where two characters from rival houses must share the same space during a ceasefire, leading to tension.
Write about a secret alliance between members of two enemy houses, meant to stop a greater evil.
Explore a character’s thoughts as they attend the wedding of two members of rival families, wondering if the peace will last.
Write a scene where the child of one house apologizes to the elder of another for the wrongs committed by their family.
Create a moment where two rival heirs are forced into an arranged marriage, neither wanting it, but both finding unexpected respect.
Write about a character who spies on the enemy only to fall in love with the person they’re meant to deceive.
Explore the moment when two lovers from rival houses are discovered and have to decide whether to flee or fight for their love.
Create a scene where a character must defend their enemy to their own family.
Write about an alliance between two enemy houses that is threatened when one member reveals a secret romance.
Explore the tension during a council meeting where representatives of two rival houses must sit side by side.
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