#is this a spoiler? ...........................hm. maybe i should have thought this through more

[zentalikestodraw]

local pilot has been talking for 30 minutes straight

in other news, I dearly love Nuwa Gec from @crab-instruments fic "What's Coming to Me (Sniper vs Sniper)"

[ghosts-to-reid]

A Tragedy for The Bard

Request: In which the reader is Spencer Reid's best friend for two years since he joined the BAU. The reader saw Spencer loving JJ, Lila and now a mysterious girl on the phone "Maeve" when one day Spencer introduces her to the team, they are all happy for him, the reader was very sad but wants Spencer to be happy with Maeve @shuichiakainx

A/N: I kinda changed the timeline of the friendship and the request a lil but i hope you enjoy still! Accidentally went off and wrote an entire novel so i hope you enjoy!

TW: Maeve arc spoilers, violence, suicide, stalking, bodily harm

ANGSTY

SPENCER REID REQUESTS OPEN!

Spencer Reid has been your best friend since you joined the FBI’s renowned BAU. He was sweet and kind, always attentive to your emotions, and showing he cared. He’d bring you coffee every morning, sit with you at lunch, and then, more often, than not, hang out with you through evenings; You never had set plans together, but the impromptu nature of your friendship is what made it exciting. After all, he was your best friend, things should be this easy with him.

Of course, having a crush on your best friend isn’t completely bizarre. The brain can get confused with chemicals and all, the attraction you have to Spencer is simply a bug in your brain that’ll balance out eventually…

That’s what you told yourself when you saw the pictures of Spencer and Lila in the pool. This was when you were both still fairly new, when he was a merely 23 and you were 25. Of course, he was already far more qualified than you were, and when you met, the fact you’d skipped 2 grades didn’t seem so impressive anymore… yet you couldn’t hold a grudge. The pair of you worked together amazingly, Derek and Elle often poked fun at you both when they over heard, quote “nerdy-ass nonsense” (Eloquently said, Agent Morgan) but you cherished those moments. Those moments were what made you fall for his mind first and foremost, the discussions, massively unorthodox hypotheticals, spirited debates, it was all so easy with him. Of course, you’d acknowledge that he’s attractive, very much so you thought. But you were co workers, so the tinge of jealousy you felt whenever Spencer and Lila interacted just had to be ignored.

The thing that stung the most was Spencer’s eagerness go to talk to you about their kiss.

The team had just wrapped up the Lila Archer case. You were all exhausted, of course, but you maybe more so than the rest of the team. Sitting alone with your head resting atop your fist, staring into space whilst the rest of the team settled into their seats. You barely notice Spencer sitting in the single seat across from you, speaking your name softly to get your attention. Eventually you notice, lifting your head, slowly blinking at him

“Hm?”

“I was just wondering if… if you had a chance to look through the case file yet…” his voice held a nervous edge as he fiddled with his cuffs. He was wondering if you saw him and Lila, making out, in a pool. You sure as hell had and you were desperately trying to hide your seething jealousy that you weren’t the one in that pool with him. However, you feigned negligence.

“No.” Shaking your head lightly, voice soft, you were emphasising your fatigue in an attempt to keep this interaction short “I’ve not had the time yet.”

He seemed slightly relieved, his shoulders were still tense as he leaned back in his seat, though. He seemed to be looking for an invitation to continue, but you weren’t going to give it to him yet.

“She kissed me…” he muttered quietly, his fingers seemingly becoming fascinating to him. The breath caught in your lungs for a second before you pulled your lips into a tight, albeit forced, smile.

“That’s great Spencer. I’m happy for you.” You speak softly and slowly, trying to convince both him and yourself that your statement was truth. He seemed convinced by the small smile on his face, a blush to his cheek. He opened his mouth to continue but you were interrupted by Gideon’s voice

“Y/N! Come over here a second.” Was all he said. Spencer looked at you confused, and you gave him a puzzled look back. Unsure of what Gideon wanted, you stood silently and made your way over to where he sat with Hotch. You slid in across from them, Gideon was reading the paper whilst Hotch had a pen in his hand, silently writing. Confusion was still lingering as you sat there for a moment before you saw the small smile on Hotchs face, and Gideon caught your eye, giving you a small wink befor returning to his paper. Unsure how to feel at the seemingly all knowing nature of the pair, who had assessed you needed an out, you rested back into your original position, head leaning against the window and you closed your eyes. Trying to ignore the sting in your chest as you try to sleep, ignoring the lingering image of the two that had somehow burned itself at the back of your eyelids.

Though still painful, your young heart broken by a simple kiss, it was of course nothing compared to the heart break that came 2 years later. The friendship that had started as close work companions had turned into you becoming best friends, to the pair of you being nearly inseparable. At this point, you were the dream team, you had learnt to shoulder your crush on the boy wonder. Of course, the teasing was still there, you were after all very close, but it didn’t make you flush the same rose as it had before. The same can be said for Spencer, who now just huffed at Dereks implications. Of course, people on the team were aware of your crush on Spencer, they were profilers. Yet they kept it to themselves, with the obvious exception of Derek.

It was a typical Saturday night for you and Spencer, as typical as possible when you’re not away on a case anyway. Both of you were sat on his couch, legs touching, your skin felt like it was on fire at the points where you both meet, yet you had long since learnt to ignore the warm feeling you felt at moments like these. It was late, really you should’ve gone home hours ago, Saturday had become Sunday hours ago, but the two of you had been caught up in conversation, a common occurrence between the two of you. Tonight, though, had been a night of deep conversations, psychological exploration of each others memories. The topic of crushes had come up, Spencer had opened up to you about what had happened to him in Highschool, and you comforted him. Then, you shared a story about how your diary was stolen, and the pages of embarrassing love poetry were printed and posted around your school. His way of comfort is to tell you how he’d think it was romantic, before rambling about the Shelley’s and Byron.

“Do you have a crush right now?” You asked sleepily, you were sleepily hopeful of a love confession but you weren’t counting on it. Spencer only saw you as a friend after all.

Spencer leans back on the couch, looking back up to you with half lidded eyes. He takes a moment to read your face, to look for any kind of malice or mischief, and when finding none, pulls his lips to a tight line.

“Kind of… I love someone.” Was all he said. It was clear that the sleep deprivation was acting like a truth serum on you both, and making you both bolder. Maybe not for the better…

You’d perked up slightly when he’d said the word ‘love’, hoping again, silently it was you. That, he’s finally, after 4 years of pining in your friendship, that he’d realised his feelings for you. You promoted him to continue, hoping for him to speak your name.

“JJ…” he was breathless

Again, that twisting pain hit you like a train. Your chest aches and your eyes suddenly felt very itchy. Spencer continues, as if he doesn’t need another print after seeing you enthusiasm.

“She’s just, so kind yanno? And I know that you’re probably thinking she’s too pretty or nice for me but, I don’t plan to act on it. I don’t want to destroy our friendship over this, but I've loved her for a while now. I love her laugh, her eyes. She’s so kind to everyone, you know?” He continues to ramble for a few minutes whilst you sit still, focusing most of your energy on not crying right now. Instead, the strength to interject conjures itself.

“That’s great Spencer. I’m happy you know how it feels to love someone, even under painful circumstances. Believe me, I know how you feel, I’ve been there.” You have his knee a reassuring squeeze before sluggishly attempting to stand, but Spencer grabs your wrist softly.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s late, Spencer… I need to go home.” Glancing at the clock, it read 5:07, the sun would be rising soon and you’d love nothing else but to cry in your own bed and sleep the Sunday away. He pulls you down to the couch once more before shifting to sit and face you.

“You don’t have to go, you can stay here tonight… I mean this morning…?” He looks at you with a tender gaze that makes your heart ache after his confession not even two moments ago. Ordinarily, you’d stay in his bed whilst he took the couch, an arrangement he absolutely insisted on, and you held little resistance to. Your main self control impulse was being kept in check from asking him to join you. If you hadn’t felt on the brink of breaking down in sobs, you wouldn’t have even thought about it. But tonight, you learned that not only Spencer’s love was unrequited, it was also no where near directed to you. Reality checks hurt, and are dealt with best in bed, in the dark. Therefore, the shake of your head takes him off guard as you silently move to put on your shoes. Spencer follows behind you

“I can’t stay tonight sorry Spencer, I said I’d take my grandma to church-“ a blantant lie, she lived in Texas. You hoped he didn’t know that. He shook his head though.

“I don’t want you to get a taxi at this time, why don’t you stay here and I’ll drive you tommorow?” He’s worried of course and you sigh. Shaking your head once more, why was he so caring? He was now rambling statistics about kidnappings and murders of women at this time of day, knowing his relentless efforts weren’t in vain as you were weak to his efforts. You gave into him.

“Fine! Fine…” you take a deep breath and rub your eyes, hoping he’s interpreting how red they are as sleep depravation, rather than the effort holding back a flood of tears. “I’ll just cancel tomorrow...” you lie again, quickly moving to his bedroom door, him in tow, not giving him the opportunity to reply as you flop onto the bed facing away from spencer. He watched you with a furrowed brow, but follows the regular routine you had both settled into when you stay. He grabs a pillow and a blanket, and presses a small kiss to your forehead before grabbed his book off of his nightstand. However, already heartbroken enough, you can’t handle that ‘friendly’ forehead kiss and so you purposely pulled the duvet over your head. However, it didn’t stop him from pressing a small kiss to the duvet, you could feel the bed dip where he leaned on the matress, of course he wouldn’t care about a stupid duvet.

10 minutes is how long you wait before you finally let out a quiet sob. Luckily, they’re mostly hushed by the thick duvet that’s still wrapped around your head, and you bring your hand up to muffle the rest of the sound as you cry over Spencer Reid. The smell of coffee and patchouli is thick on his duvet, a normal comfort contorted into a terror that spurs another soft cry. You stay like that until you fall asleep, where you end up sleeping till 3 pm.

You awake to a sandwich on the side table, accompanied by a glass of orange juice. Spencer left a note reading “JJ asked if I’d help her with something, be back before 4.” Ignoring the sandwich, you made as quick of an exit as you could. Unaware of the tears stains you had left in Reid’s pillow….

Of course, you eventually healed from that. Neither relationship had ever come to fruition after all. That is why now, after how ever many years of friendship, you were going to be bold. You were going to tell him how you really felt. In a moment of sentimentality, had bought a collection of various romantic era poetry, and wrote your own little addition asking him on a date, as a call back to that intimate night, and with hope to rewrite that memory for yourself. Nothing could go wrong, you and Spencer had be great, as great as you could be whilst dealing with psycho killers.

Arriving at the office, you had no time to drop the book off onto his desk. Hotch called the team into the conference room with a morose look, that made your face pale.

There, Spencer stood in front of the team, looking disheveled and sleep deprived was the last crack in the dam of emotion for you. He looked so small, so fragile. Not meeting anyone’s eye, speaking like he’s in a trance. He’s asking for the teams help.

Help to find his kidnapped girlfriend.

You could’ve been sick right then and there, and you actually almost were. The speed your stomach dropped at this new reveltaion was enough to make you excuse yourself, hand over your mnouth, face pale. Unsure if it was due to the shock, the heartbreak, the anxiety, or maybe a mix of all there, you excuse yourself from the room. Your heart aches that you left so suddenly, but you couldn’t help this obviously. The run to the ladies room was quick, as you burst into a stall. Vomiting was never elegant, and the same was so in work. After a few moments you cleaned the corners of your mouth with a tissue before leaning back and grabbing your phone from your pocket. A text from Emily on your screen

“You okay?”

Nope. I was going to confess my love in a very embarrassing way and admit that Reid admitting he had a girlfriend made you literally, throw up from... A shitstorm of emotions. Drafting a quick excuse, you send her a message back. Within a second of your message, another agent from a desk nearby had seen you running to the bathroom, and brought you your bag as an act of kindness. She thought you might not feel well and would want something and was gone as quickly as she arrived, wishing you well. Thankful for her kindness, you quickly cleaned yourself up before grabbing your phone once more.

You love Spencer. So, so much. So much that you can't, in good conscience, work this case without fear of conflict of intrest. But not wanting to share this, you decide that food poisioniong was a better excuse and head home, apologising to the team over text, and wishing them good luck. Of course, the team were pre occupied with finding Maeve, Garcia filled you in, so there wasn't much resistence to your absence.

The speed that events transpired, however, made you relieved that you hadn't dropped the book off on spencers desk this morning.

A few hours pass after the incident, you were sitting at home watching some mind numbing reality T V Show, trying to numb the heartbreak that ached within your core. You were a few seconds away from dissasociating when there was a knock to the door. Debating the practicality of ignoring it, you decide not to thinking that it was perhaps a member of the team. You were wrong however, when you open the door to a small brunette.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, I broke down outside and i was just wondering if I could use your phone to call roadside assitance? My phone literally just died!" She looked exhasberated, and exhausted. Taking pityyou nod and let her inside

"Sure, let me just grab it for you. You can wait in here." Turning your back on, you went to grab your phone from the sofa you had just been curled up on. Before you could take two steps, you felt a heavy weight at the back of your head.

Momentairly your vision turned black. Trying to regain your footing, you spin the meet the girl who was now holding the metalic decrative bowl that you palced your keys into. Before you could form another thought, she hit you once more. Finally knocking you out.

By the time you came to, you couldn't help but feel the hard pounding radiating through your skull. Your vision was blurry, only slightly making out some figures in front of you. One of your eyes couldn't open all the way either, as if stuck shut. Memory of your attack came back in bits, but you were unable to focus though. Definetly concussed to some degree. Slowly, you attempted to move your hand to your eye, only to discover that you were tied tightly to a chair.

After a few moments of your semi concious state, you could make out the voice of a woman in front of you.

"Y/N... Y/N wake up... Y/N?" A soft voice ushered you slowly out of you daze, and finally you focused on the woman. She was also tied up. She was brunette, with soft features that matched her voice. Weakly you aknowledged her

"Where... Where are we?"

"I... I dont know... But help is coming. I know that." You looked at her for a moment, trying to recognise her.

"How do you know my name?" Theres a resistance to your voice, though weak.

"Spencer's told me about you." She smiled, your stomach dropped.

"You're... You're Maeve?" Nodding in response, she began to speak before beiung cut off by the sudden apperance of the small brunette. She slamed the door shut before she entered. She began to bark demands, you learnt her name was Diane. She berated you about your feelings for spencer, teasing you and Maeve. Succesfully breaking your heart more.

Then, a buzzer sounded.

"Oh. Here he is now." Diane barked orders through the phone and slowly, Spencer came into view. Breath catching in your chest, you were unable to look at him, knowing he wasn't here for you. His arms up as Diane pointed her gun at him

"Im here now. We made a deal." His voice was broken. "Let them go."

"I will. But first i need you all to hear something." She reached to the table behind her, and procured a book. The very same book you had intended to give to Spencer just this morning.

"No. No that's nothing please-" You plead despertly, trying to convince the woman to have any modicum of mercy. Spencer glanced at you softly. Your beggign was interupted by Diane opening the books dedication page, that you had written a poem on

"The smell of coffee, and your furrowed brow, An instant smile that inspire, How could i ever hide my longing desire To place a kiss to that brow To fill your cup, and hold thy hand

Lounging and talking, for you do not know How dearly my love is rooted In your voice, your home, from my heart to yours Through danger, i'd die through strife i'll hold Through it all i shall hold thy hand

I'll read to you, if you'll read to me To be in your heart is a future i'd like to see So Spencer I ask, May I be yours, as you have been mine?" Diane recited. At this point, you were sobbing silently, unable to meet the gazee of anyone. Diane had a diabolical smile on her face as she teased all of you, feeling satisfied that you had been humiliated, she turned her attention to Maeve. Focusing your attention to dampen your sobs was your prioty right now. After all, Maeve wasn't the only girl here in danger.

In truth, you were foucinsing on anything other than Spencer's outpouring of love for Maeve.

Your attention was finally caught again when Diane grabbed Maeve, holding a gun to her head. Spencer pleaded for her life.

"Take me instead" He pleaded. Setting Diane off once more, in fury, holding the gun to both her and Maeves head.

You didn't expect ehr to pull the trigger.

You scremaed and tried to wiggle your way free from your constraints as the team rushed in. Spencer dropped to his knees, watching as the blood of both women combined, and slowly crept across the wooden floor. The team were in shock for a moment, before someone untied you. Quickly wisking you to an ambulance ready outside.

There were no words for the cocktail of emotions you felt. Apparently, according to Emily, Diane had decided to target you after discovering your closeness to Reid. She wanted to leave as much wreckage in her wake as possible. The team had been alerted to your dissapearance when Penelope had called you 34 times and you hadn't answered. She hacked into your doorbell camera and discovered the footage of Diane taking you, where Derek and Emily had discovered the struggle between you.

You had been assigned mandatory leave of 2 months and was thankful for the break.

A month and a half goes by wihtout a word from Spencer. Of course, you weren't surprised. After what had happened, you knew he would seclude himself. Normally, you'd would be there for him. But not now. It was imposssible for you with both the trauma of that night, and also the humiliation that your love confession was read by a psychopath who moments later, murdered his girlfriend.

You werent sure you'd ever be able to face him again.

Of course, heartbreak and trauma are never a good combonation. You had been neglecting yourself slightly, so dragging yourself to the shower felt like much more of a chore. Without dwelling on the past, the tried your best to focus on the song playing whilst you scrubbed your scalp, taking your agression out that way. When you eventually emerged from the bathroom, you put on a fresh set of pyjamas and made your way to the living room. Before you could sit, there was alight tapping on the door.

Since the incident, you were wary of unexpected visitors. Spencer would interject with a fact about PTSD and try to calm you down, but you try to shake off the thought. Instead, you do whatyou shouldve done that day, and open the phones app to look throguh the camera. There stood Spencer. Thinner, languid and visibly exhausted. A pang hit in your chest before you debated answering. Giving in though, chest hurting more at the thought of him ebing alone right now in this state.

Gingerly, you unlock the various locks you had had installed, and open the door slightly, only peeking your head out of the small gap.

"Spencer?" He looked up slowly, eyes meeting yours. His eyes were dull and red from the amount of tears you were sure he ahd shed.

"Can i come in?" His voice was weaker than youd imagined, but you stepped to the side. Once more pushing aside any of your own feelings inf avour of his, as usual.

He made his way to his usual spot on the couch, you sit on the further end, unsure where you stood with him anymore. As you sat, his eyes met yours in confusion, usually youd be sat right next to him. "Are you okay?" It seemd a silly question from him, given the current situation. All you did was nod silently in response, pulling your knees to your chin. There was a few moments of silence before Spencer toutched your arm, making you look over to meet his pleading gaze.

"Im sorry..." Was all he said. Without realising, you let out the tears you had been holding, you shook off his hand so that you coulkd wipe your eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." You didn't want to have this conversation. "You didn't know."

"But-"

"You didn't know. And it doesn't matter." Your voice was more forceful than intended. This isn't a discussion you wanted to have. Not now. Not after Maeve, you weren't an emotional rebound. You weren't going to fill the void of Maeve in his heart.

"You're my friend. I was being innaprpiate im sorry. It was silly."

Spencer has a pensive look on his face, his brow furrowed but lip wobbling in an attempt to surpess your rejection.

"Y/N no, no we aren't avoiding this..." He spoke tearfully "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because there was always someone else!" You surprised yourself at your outburst. Clamping a shocked hand on your mouth you tried to hold back a loud sob. Spencer was stunned

"Someone... else?" He was confused, obviously. He never considered himself an avid dater, and you only knew about maeve fr a day before...

Plucking up any modicum of courage you had, you took a deep breath.

"Lila Archer. JJ. And..." You didn't want to speak her name, but the absence didn't dull the obvious pang to spencers heart.

"But. But they were years apart... I dont understand?"

"It takes courage spencer... And when that courage is destroyed, it takes time to build up once more..." Staring at a spot on the rug, you began absent mindendly picking at your nails, a habit you had when anxious.

Spencer noticed this and grabbed your hands to stop you. A gesture that would have comfoted you before, but now makes you jump. He holds them tightly between his and pulls you to face him.

His eyes were still pfilled with despair for Maeve but, he looked at you so, so softly. So gently that you felt your heart flutter like it did only 2 months ago.

"I wish you told me..." His voice broke, tears spilling from eyes slowly. Reanimating your own tears you begin to shake your head, pulling your hands from his and standing, walking away from him.

"No spencer... No not now... We can't." You sob. folding your arms, avoiding his stare.

He stands and rushes to your side grabbing your shoulders, making you meet his gaze once more.

"Why?" he begs "Why can't we?" His voice is broken once more "I love you, please. I love you too!"

Breaking from his hold you walk away from him once more, towards your front door.

"It isn't right Spencer..." You mutter softly "Not by you, or me... Or Maeve..." Reaching for the door handle, you take another shakey breath before pulling your front door open. "I think it's best you leave."

Spencer is silent, pleading with you to change your mind. He doesn't say a word though, simply wipes his eyes before silently walking through your door. Giving you one last despearte look before you force yourself to close the door behind him.

The rest of your leave was spent heartbroken, sobbing alone in your bed.

[giveafike]

omg i’m obsessed with your NSFW alphabet post for ben!!!!! i need more about him after a rough match, constantly watching you in the stands making gestures towards him during breaks getting him all worked up before you guys go back to the hotel room ooohhhh i know he wouldn’t hold back at all

TLDR: SO I ACTUALLY CHANGED PROMPT SLIGHTLY.... Girlfriend!reader x BenShelton have locker room sex after a bad match…..🫵☹️

Word count + info: 3.3k! Dialogue (sex talk).

Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW - Minors DNI!! Somewhat rough sex, unprotected, creampie, fingering, hickeys, v v v light mention of throatplay (barely), kinda public sex...this one kinda nasty chat...☹️🧍‍♀️

Azzie Notes ✚: So...I was thinking of having reader be super distracting but then I was like hm, would Ben acc even look during a game...idk and then secondly...would Ben even wait to make it to the hotel...idt so...yeah.......unsuspecting reader getting freaky in the locker room…you're NASTY anon! 🫵☹️

Did I finish writing this half way through the Basel final...shut up....🧍‍♀️

Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike) - feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

————————————————————————

High Stakes - B.T.S.

Your leg bounced nervously as you watched Ben rise from his bench. The first few points seemed fine, almost routine for Ben. But it didn’t take long before you began noticing subtle cracks, maybe even before Ben himself had realised. His footwork lagged by fractions of a second, and his serves, normally ruthless, razor-sharp, started drifting. Then came the returns from his opponent, each one landing like a blow. Every small mistake, every lost point, seemed to pile on, and Ben’s frustration grew, simmering in his narrowed eyes, his tense posture, the way his hands tightened around his racket. At one point, he even muttered something under his breath, his voice taut with a tone you knew all too well. When the ball hit the net, you winced. You could feel the frustration in his stance, the way his shoulders squared too rigidly, his jaw clenched like a steel trap, his chest rising and falling a little too quickly. And that telltale twitch in his fingers as he adjusted his grip.

His opponent was skilled, sure, but it was something else gnawing at Ben, an invisible pressure like a shadow he couldn’t shake, slipping the game out of his hands, inch by inch. As he readied his next serve, you bit your lip, watching him closely. You knew he’d spent hours obsessively drilling this exact serve, pushing himself to the limit. Lately, he’d been rocking between overconfidence and gnawing self-doubt, a rare state to see. Usually, Ben cleared his head before the fog even had a chance to settle. But not today.

You exhaled, bringing a hand up to your mouth, the other wrapping around yourself as if to brace against the tension. Your fingers tightened around the soft fabric of your knitted sweater, your pleated skirt neatly folded on your lap. Watching him like this was agony, knowing he’d been swallowed by his thoughts, by the frustration gnawing at his confidence.

Just then, your attention snapped back to the court. One serve, just one brutal miss, one that should’ve been easy, slipped from his grasp, and you could see him grit his teeth, his head tilting back as he let out a frustrated shout. The crowd shifted, murmuring, their collective breath held. You knew the signs, Ben was losing himself in the frustration, letting it drive him to the edge.

And then it happened.

It was a rally he should have won. His opponent sent a high shot, and he should’ve had it. But his timing faltered, just a hair off. The game ended then and there, the win slipping away in a flash, almost as if it had never been his. Frustration bubbled over, and with a furious yell, he threw his racket across the court, watching it clatter and skid.

You held your breath, standing up slowly as the crowd’s murmur rose, eyes locked on Ben as he stormed over, picked up his racket, and turned toward his opponent. He forced himself through the handshakes, his nod barely a formality, his expression set and unyielding. He didn’t look at the crowd, didn’t acknowledge the thin applause scattered here and there. Instead, he headed to his bench, his eyes low and movements stiff as he packed his bag with mechanical precision, each item stashed away with clipped efficiency. Without a glance back, he made his way toward the locker room, his face a mask of tension.

As he gathered his things, you took a steadying breath before you made your way to his private room, feeling nothing but raw empathy and heartbreak for him, each step heavy with the weight of what you’d just witnessed. You leaned against a locker and took a deep breath, readying yourself for your boyfriend to open that door in his truest and rawest emotional and mental state.

The door swung open, and he stepped inside, his gaze darkening the second he saw you waiting. He threw his bag down, jaw clenched, a flash of anger still alive in his eyes. The sweat on his brow glistened, his breathing rough, and his fists clenched as if he were ready to fight the whole world.

"Ben," you whispered softly, stepping forward. But he only shook his head, as if you couldn’t possibly understand.

"Don’t. Don’t try talkin' or therapising me down right now, Y/N, I don't need-" he hissed, voice thick as he dropped his bags on the floor, his accent twisting his words almost into a snarl, his eyes roaming up your body until they meet your eyes. “I don't need you tryin’ to fix this.”

"I’m not trying to fix anything, I’m just here for you, baby" you replied, your voice sweet and steady, knowing he was running on pure adrenaline and emotion. You held your hands up like you were surrendering, showing you meant no harm or malice. His eyes were focused on rummaging through his bags, not even caring for your words.

You pressed on, stepping closer until you could feel the heat rolling off him in waves. "It was just a match, baby. You'll get them next time."

His head snapped up, eyes blazing with an intensity that stole your breath. His rummaging stops as he takes in your words. There was something primal in that gaze, something that spoke of barely contained chaos. "Next time," he scoffed, the words dripping with disdain. "You think I care about next time?"

You reached for him, fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "I just want you to calm down. It's not the end of the world."

A bitter laugh escaped him, and in an instant, he was on his feet, towering over you, his presence overwhelming.

"Calm down?" he growled, and the sound rumbled through you, igniting a fire deep in your belly. He was towering over you, his attention fully concentrated. "You think I need to be calm right now? You wanna know what I need so bad since you're so eager to fix everything? Hm?" He cocked his head, eyes narrowed, challenging you.

His eyes locked on yours, intense, and then before you could say another word, his mouth was on yours, rough and desperate. There was no caution, no holding back, only a white-hot, almost bruising need that swept you both up. His hand gripped the back of your neck, tugging your hair, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper into the kiss, feeling so meek in his intensity.

"Ben-" you gasped between kisses, but he didn’t let you finish. “Anyone could knock and w-walk in or see-”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he murmurs his voice a low growl that sends a thrill of apprehension and arousal through you. “Let 'em fuckin' come. I’m past carin’. All that matters right now is you fixin' me.”

Before you can even think of a protest, his lips are locked back onto yours, the kiss more aggressive as he bites and sucks your lower lip, gliding his tongue across it before slipping in, the taste of his frustration mingling with your desire.

His hands roamed your body, rough and insistent, as if mapping every inch of you could somehow soothe the storm inside him. You gave up on protesting, finding it hard to be anything but submissive at this moment; after all, this was what he needed, right?

You did try to pull back, trying to find some, any, shred of grace and poise left in you to restrain yourself until you were in private or, rather, to offer words of comfort to Ben, but he wouldn't let you. His fingers tangled in your hair, tight and tugging, holding you captive to his need. His tongue fights yours, both of you stifling moans into each other's mouths.

"Ben, we don't have to do this now," you murmur, trying to maintain some semblance of control. There was no real conviction in your voice, you could feel the heat pool within you, your skin set alight by his grip, your heart beating in a deafening thump inside your head.

"I don't wanna think or talk," he rasped, his voice a low growl against your lips. "I just want to feel."

With that, you felt any atom of composure leaving your body, quickly replaced by striking hot need.

Ben had gone beyond the point of reason, his frustration driving him forward. His hands went to the back of your thighs, lifting you off the ground with ease, making you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms tossed over his shoulders and lost in his damp curls, your nails scraping his scalp. His head dips to your jaw, kissing and grazing his teeth roughly against your smooth skin, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses that seared your skin. His teeth grazed your collarbone, a low growl rumbling in his chest that resonated through your very bones. Ben comes back to take good care of your neck finding that sweet spot, making your eyes flit shut, soft moans escaping your lips.

He backs you up towards the lockers, still hoisting you up on him as the cold metal hits your back and his hands slide up under your sweater, gently palming your breasts. In one fluid motion, he breaks the kiss with a grunt, throwing the sweater over your head and onto the floor, his hand cupping your left breast before tugging it out from your bra, unbothered to even unclasp it.

You could taste the salt of his sweat, and feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest as he pressed you back against the cool metal lockers. The contrast of heat and chill along with the breeze of air hitting your torso sent a shiver racing through you, igniting every nerve, heightening every sensation. The cool air brushed against your bare skin, raising goosebumps that he chased away with his mouth, his tongue tracing a fiery path down your chest. His fingers roll your nipple, tweaking as he connects himself back to your collarbones, making his way down to your breast. Ben pushes his mouth onto you, sucking your nipple while his hands roam down, gripping your ass before trailing your inner thigh slowly.

You pant as Ben's free hand travels down to your skirt, the other prodding into your hip. His hand moves painfully slowly as it works its way up to palm through your underwear, his fingers work relentlessly. You feel yourself getting wetter, knowing full well that anyone could catch you both in the heat of the moment, the thrill sending shivers down your spine. His touch is commanding, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.

He pushes your underwear to the side, lifting one of your legs higher up on his waist without warning. You gasp as he enters you with two fingers, his thrusts hard and fast, no time for you to adjust. You were clamping around him, feeling your slick folds engulf him as he brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing in rough circles, matching his aggression. Beads of sweat from his match and the passionate scene unfolding rolled down his neck as he watched your face contort with pleasure.

"I wish I could get in you right now," he murmurs into your breast, his voice hoarse with need. He pulls his head back to look you in the eyes. "But I need to work you up to that. Look at me with your pretty eyes, don’t you dare look away."

You tried your best to open your eyes, biting down on your lower lip to muffle your whimpers and moans as your back arched up, almost inviting your breasts right back to the height of his mouth, which he greedily took while his fingers worked in and out of you.

As moments passed with you two intertwined, Ben pressed his hips against yours, his shorts failing to hide his hard length. You could feel his need pressing against you, an insistent reminder of just how much he craved you, how much he needed this. You couldn't help but feel yourself grind involuntarily against his fingers, your hips bucking for more as your arousal pooled hidden beneath the pleats of your skirt. You could feel yourself about to come undone on his fingers, before Ben removed his fingers, sucking on them as he held your gaze. He then brought his hand down to free himself, his member immediately standing erect against her inner thigh, already leaking precum. You can hear that he's breathing hard against you and that the sounds he makes are primal and animalistic. You can smell the musk on him, it turns you on so much.

He tapped his tip on your clit, then dragged it all the way up and back down along your soaking entrance in painfully slow strokes. His fingers dug into your flesh as he guided you down onto him, a groan escaping both your lips as he filled you, slow but rough, the sensation a shockwave that rippled through your entire being. Your head hit the lockers in pleasure, feeling your legs wobble like jelly around his waist as he held you tight against him.

“Please,” you beg him. You need this just as bad as he does; you'd be lying if you said you didn't love him like this.

He doesn't even say anything, instead, he pulls your leg higher and grunts as his cock gets even deeper. You whimper as his cock pushes against your cervix in breathtaking strokes. Ben takes a second to adjust before he pulls out and slams back into you.

You can't help but let out a low dirty moan, this time louder, it's so hard, but oh so good. His hips begin to slam into yours, each thrust sending waves of sensation through your body, his girth stretching your walls as he sheaths his cock deeper and deeper, inch by inch. You can’t help but whine, your voice blending with his grunts of exertion, shameless and raw in your hasty passion. Ben's hand holds your skirt up to your hips so he can watch himself pound into you, his other hand roaming over your body, lightly gripping your throat, squeezing your boobs, digging into your waist, gripping your ass; anything he can hold onto. He was relentless, each thrust a statement made in the heat of the moment, each movement a testament to the primal dance that only the two of you knew. Your hands roamed over the broad of his chest, his shirt clinging to his slick torso detailing each groove and muscle that lay underneath. Your nails deliciously traced over his skin, making him let out a breathy moan, only fueling his primal desire more.

"You're takin' me so well, doll. Just like that, so good" he nibbled at your earlobe, his voice like gravel sending trembles through you.

The world outside faded away, replaced by the rhythm you created together, the sound of skin against skin, the gasps and moans that filled the small space. The lockers rattled with the force of your movements, the sound echoing around you, mingling with the symphony of your shared pleasure, creating a sexual symphony around you. He drove into you with a fervour that bordered on madness, his breath hot against your ear with each grunt and groan that escaped his lips. Your nails drilled into his shoulders, desperate to keep you in place as you threw caution to the wind as he forced out moans and squeals from you, praising him, begging him for more, his name rolling off your tongue like a mantra, each one slightly louder than the last which just egged Ben on faster, harder, further. Your eyes rolled back, your mouth agape, a fucked-out expression painting over your features with each strong thrust, relentlessly hitting all the right spots to no end, with no thoughts or words in your mind other than how fucking good Ben was giving it to you.

"Love seein' your pretty eyes roll...fuck, babe" he hisses as he throws his head back, curls plastered over his forehead.

You could feel yourself near, your walls clamping down, your whines reaching a fever pitch only for Ben to remove himself. You whimpered at the lack of contact, feeling the new emptiness in you, but it didn't last long. Ben swiftly placed you on the ground, throwing a leg over his shoulder as he realigned himself. You couldn't even form a sentence to the quick change of positions, not that you had anything to protest.

Ben plunged in with a whole new deeper depth, making your back arch immediately. You didn't have to worry about slipping off his waist here as you wrapped your legs around him, holding him with each deep entry while he tugged your hair, his eyes focused on your pretty, messy mound. Ben starts thrusting faster now, he's grunting against you and it feels so amazing. His sweaty skin is against you, rubbing against you as his cock goes deeper.

You feel our orgasm build up more and more, his cock is hitting your sweet spot over and over again. “Oh my god, Ben,” you whisper, almost tender; you're not sure how much you can take.

"Touch yourself for me" he mutters, almost too quietly for it to be a command. You can feel him getting closer, his eyes never leaving your dripping cunt, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room, mixing with your moans and his grunts. He’s relentless, pushing you beyond your limits, taking you in ways that leave you gasping for breath.

Your hand shakingly circles your clit, moving in slow rolls, driving you into another level of bliss. You can't hold back between the reckless strokes and the feeling of your clit rolling beneath your fingers as the waves roll through you peaking, making you tremble as you surrender, letting the world outside fade away until there was nothing but the heat of his skin against yours, the sound of your mingled breaths echoing in the empty room. You cry out as you clench around him, your legs holding him tight to you, your fingers working fast on your clit while your free hand tears into Ben's shoulder.

Ben follows right as you ride out your high, his thrusts become even harder, his rhythm erratic as he nears his release. He’s completely lost in the moment, his mind consumed by the primal need consuming him entirely. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t give you any respite. He’s in complete control, his body driven by a need that surpasses his frustration. And then, with one final thrust, he lets out a guttural roar, his body tensing as he spills inside you as you arch against his body. The force of his release sends shockwaves through your body, and you cling to him, unable to stop the cries that escape your lips.

Time lost all meaning, measured only in the rise and fall of your bodies, the crescendo building until it consumed you both, leaving you suspended in a moment of pure ecstasy. He collapses against you, still inside you, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. For a moment, there’s silence, just the sound of their combined panting echoing in the empty locker room. You were both left breathless and trembling, it was in each other's arms that you found the calm after the storm.

Ben doesn't say anything but drops his head onto your shoulder, planting soft kisses as he pulls out of you. Your legs fall back down and he pulls his cock out of your pussy, sticky strings of your mixed arousal as he moves away from your entrance. You lay there completely warn out, trying to catch your breath, as you continued to process what happened while he planted soft tender kisses on your neck and jaw, a change from how he was just seconds prior.

Ben looks at you and smiles back. “Thank you, baby,” he says and kisses your lips gently. “Sorry that was a little rough,” he adds.

You bite back a laugh, still coming to your senses as you raise an eyebrow.

"A little?"

[an-idyllic-novelist]

stolas goetia with gender neutral!sinner!reader scenario

warnings: spoilers for s2, angst, slight Stoliz, one-sided love, and possibly OOC for some of the characters.

The Goetian prince met you through Bltizy’s little assassination agency. You were an employee, specializing in reconnaissance within the human world and possessing knowledge of the mortal plane, amongst other jobs that required a more….delicate touch. Is that why you were good with knives and acrobatics? Probably. Either way, you were pleasant enough for a sinner and an easy conversationalist, much more so than his dear little imp. 

In all honesty, he did not pay much attention to you until after…the incident with Striker. It had been a close call, and he had almost died if Blitzø nor you hadn’t come to his rescue. He did check his phone for messages, and only got one text from the imp. After that…nothing. He never heard from him for the rest of the day. At least he thought he thought it was for the rest of the day. The drugs that were pumped into his body made Solas drowsy. When he woke up, there was someone in the chair.

But it wasn’t Blitzø. It was you. And still dressed in those dirty, bloodstained clothes you had worn the last time he saw you before he blacked out. As soon he moved in the bed, trying to readjust himself, you immediately bolted up from your seat, bleary-eyed yet you still had the energy to help him get comfortable before setting back down.

“Welcome back.” You said in a monotone voice, releasing a low groan. He winced slightly at hearing the bones in your neck being popped back into place as you moved your head from left to right.

“How do you feel? You need me to get the nurse? Bitch hasn’t been around since the shift change…’bout three hours ago? Christ on a stick it’s hard to keep track of time. Oh yeah, before I forget,” You stood from the chair again, rummaging in your pockets before pulling out a slip of paper, holding it out to him. “Your daughter called my cell. Dunno how she got it, maybe Loona gave it to her,  but she sounded pretty damned scared. Can’t blame the poor girl.” You narrowed your eyes, mouth curling into a contemplative frown. “It’s weird that she didn’t call you first. Maybe….she was worried your…spouse would change her mind and have Striker finish the job.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and very confused at your attentiveness. “Why?” He whispered.

“Hm?”

“Why….are you here?” He asked. “Blitzy couldn’t make time to see me, so he sent you instead.” He felt tears building up in the back of the eyes, much to his embarrassment and frustration. “Why is it that he can send an employee yet he can never face me without making up an excuse that he’s working or it’s too soon to fulfill our arrangement!?” He snapped, feathery chest heaving up and down before he quickly wiped away his face with the back of his hand. 

You said nothing. Instead…you took a few steps toward him and sat on the edge of his bed. “No one sent me to check on you, Your Highness. I am here….because I was worried about you. No strings attached, no last minute requests from the boss. And I am honestly glad you are all right. You’re a Goetia, you’re stronger than tens of thousands of sinners like myself combined. But today was a close call. You could have died….and I should’ve been there sooner. No…Blitzø should have been on top of everything. I know he’s a father too, but Christ I don’t know what goes through that guy’s head sometimes.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “He’s a hot mess. He’s toxic.  He’s got issues….and he’s trying. That means a lot more than you think. But…if you feel like this…arrangement is going nowhere…cut yourself loose before you get too deep that you can’t pull out.” 

Stolas narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” He asked. You didn’t answer him immediately; instead, you stood up from the bed and fluffed up his pillows, placed the piece of paper in his open palm  and strode over to the chair to collected the jacket you used as a blanket, heading towards the door but stopping with your hand hovering over the knob. You looked back at him. 

“I’ve said my piece, Your Highness. Visiting hours will be over soon, but I’ll make sure the nurse stops by here before the lights go out. I wish I could help you more, believe me…it’s just….you’ve got to sort out how you feel about my boss on your own. And seriously, give your daughter a call before she starts blowing up my phone in a panic-induced frenzy.”

You then left, closing the door softly behind you, leaving Stolas to ponder on your words and…his current situation. Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing his Hellphone off the side table and dialing the number. 

What he did not realize at the time is that you did care about him, more than an assassin should care about their employer. All you wanted is Stolas to be happy, even if he might never find happiness with you.

Why else would you be leaning against the door outside of his room for almost ten minutes trying to calm your racing heart before going to find someone to check in on him?

Taglist:

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@thatstonedwriter

@myafterlifeisbetterthenyours

@angelltheninth

@vikkirosko

@nixie-writes

@nunezs-stuff

@mitra555

@lbcreations-blog

@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

@atttwoood

@crystalrose36

@aurora-rose-miller

[desceros]

sometimes i think about the future symphony "i should have married you" post you made and it makes me so sad but the other night as i was falling asleep i was struck with absolute agony by the awful idea of "i should have married you" because marrying her would have made her hamato and maybe just maybe then she would have been able to become a hamato spirit. and the brothers most likely would have been able to make contact with the hamato sprits like they do in the series. and because if he married her at least he would have been able to contact her spirit. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh anyways thought i should share hope your day is going fabulously captain desceros

oh, this is awful. allow me to make it even worse :)

we’ve seen in the series that you dont actually have to have the hamato name to be ‘a hamato’ as april demonstrates. we’ve also seen varying levels of. hm. ninj-oscity? ninpo skills? from the boys. like raph and leo doing a ninja mind meld. just. just mikey.

and we’ve always seen that donnie struggles with ninpo the most.

his ninpo is mechanical. when he uses it at its most conscious level, we see it manifest as blueprints coming together. literal pieces, as if constructed with real material. when he panics or doesn’t go through this process, it’s a vague shape that isn’t as strong or as defined in purpose.

so let’s take this scenario you’ve brought to us.

viola-chan would have, unquestionably, been a hamato. and for that reason, i can definitely see her having a hamato spirit.

…..but i dont think donnie would ever be able to communicate with it.

mikey would be the most likely, since he has the strongest ninpo. but he’d be in high demand since he’s so strong, so i think it would tire him and i dont know how much time and energy he’d have to talk to anyone. not to mention the stress he’d feel when donnie would come to him like Hey Can I Talk To My Dead Girlfriend and mikey’s like…. dude i just got home from 24 hours of straight ass kicking i’m about to pass tf out.

and raph, i imagine, died not too long after viola-chan, so whether he could or not is moot.

leo. well. i dont think leo could communicate with viola-chan either. leo is rather avoidant when he feels guilty or ashamed, and (without going into too much of spoiler territory) he’d feel largely unworthy to talk to you, i think. and since we’ve seen that it takes an open heart to use the technique, it wouldn’t work.

and donnie. god. donnie would try. he would try so, so hard. he would try, hours upon hours, every free moment, banging his fists on his thighs as he’d meditate until he’d collapse. reaching out. seeking. already not as strong at this whole ninpo nonsense. unable to calm himself from the need to see you need to see you please just let me see you one last time please please please that would make it impossible to focus. he’d start thinking about tech that could bridge the gap. that’s how his ninpo works, after all. modeling his blueprint. so if he can design a machine that can talk to you. his ninpo can bring it to life.

but he doesnt exactly have a lot of time to dedicate to a personal project like that, let alone one so fucking insane in scale, so actually impossible to do. and as the time passes he grows more and more obsessed with thinking about it. yet simultaneously more and more sure it’ll never happen. i feel like his last moments, alone, bleeding, staring up at the rust-colored sky, he’d be smiling. because of course he he has some kind of death drone army set to go the moment his ninpo cuts off, and it’s one last middle finger to krang. …but also i think he’d be a little relieved. hoping his spirit will find yours and lavi’s.

(do they? who knows. no more hamato exist in that timeline to find out.)

[weirdsht]

Catalyst - JJK & Reader

notes: this is purely self-indulgent so its messy asf. I don't usually write for jjk because I feel like I can't grasp their characters in writing, but I had to write for jjk after the manga ending.

tags: no gender specified for reader, yuuji & reader, platonic relationship, implied satoru/reader, self-indulgent, manga spoilers (obvi)

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

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

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

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Silence lingered in the air, it was the dead of the night after all. Everyone is getting a well-deserved rest after being constantly battered, bruised, and stressed. However, one presence stands out in the communal area of the Jujutsu High Dorms. Pink hair illuminated by the soft glow of the almost muted television can be seen as you enter the living room.

“Shouldn’t the Yuji Itadori be sleeping peacefully now that no Ryomen Sukuna is pestering him and saying nonsense in his ears?”

You jokingly asked the teen as you slid beside him, seeing what movie had his eyes glued on the television at this ungodly hour. Unsurprisingly, it’s one of the instalments of the Human Earthworm movies.

“Can’t sleep.”

The pink-haired teen simply states, his eyes still glued on the television. Despite that, it doesn’t look like he's paying attention to the movie. There are simultaneously no thoughts behind those eyes, yet millions of concerns wracking his brain.

Of course, you noticed all of this. What kind of adult would you be if you don’t see the kid’s suffering especially after he just went through so much?

Not a reliable one, that’s for sure.

“You haven’t slept well since Shibuya. It’s been a week since everything started settling down yet you seem stagnant. What’s been bothering our precious Yuji? Hm?”

The student went visibly rigid at your words. He knows he wasn’t hiding his turmoil well, but at the same time, he hadn’t expected you to confront him straight on like this.

“I’m sorry… I’ll be fine soon, I promise.”

His response made you shake your head. Not necessarily disappointed in the young man, but rather disappointed at how the circumstances and some people made him believe that he should not seek help from other people.

“That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant Yuji. Now tell me what’s been plaguing your mind.”

Your voice had its usual softness in it that was reserved for talking to Satoru’s students. At the same time, it held firmness, telling Yuji that he couldn’t skirt his way out of this one. Unlike what he had been doing for the past week.

Yuji has had the time to mull over his problems by himself. Now it’ll be the time for him to mull over them with you.

“I was just thinking of the what-ifs… Like what if I chose the immediate execution instead… Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

To some extent, you get where the kid is coming from. Yuji had always felt like he was at fault for everything Sukuna had done during these past months because he was the one who ate that finger. Because it was his choice to continue being the vessel for the king of curses.

Yuji Itadori felt as if it was his burden to atone for Sukuna’s sins as he was the one who essentially revived him.

However, you beg to disagree.

But before you can say something, Yuji speaks up once more.

“I was so selfish… If I hadn’t been selfish then it the casualties wouldn’t be this severe… Nanamin would still be here… Choso too, as well as Gojo-sensei… Gojo-sensei… I’m so sorry [Name] because of me you lost Gojo-sensei… If only I hadn’t been so selfish…”

Ah, so that’s why he couldn’t look at you.

The poor guy is full-on sobbing now. His back is hunched over as he loudly sobbed in his knees. It’s so bad that his blabbering nonsense, or at least it’s nonsense for you. Why would he be sorry for something he couldn’t control? Why is having the desire to live considered a selfish choice now? 

Why can’t Yuuji Itadori look at you anymore? The same lively kid who used to join you whenever you pulled pranks on Satoru. The same kid you have grown to see as your own alongside Megumi, Tsumiki, and Nobara? Why is that very same kid being eaten alive by survivor’s guilt every night despite appearing to be okay daily?

“Hey, hey, that’s not it Yuji. It’s not your fault. It couldn’t possibly be your fault.”

You held onto the student’s trembling hands, making it known that he still has an adult figure in his life.

“But Gojo-sensei, you loved him so much and yet because of me—”

“It wasn’t you who did it okay? There’s also nothing wrong with wanting to live. That’s normal because you are human. As Nanami said, you're the kid and we’re the adults. We’re the ones responsible for you, not the other way around.”

Your hand gently stroke his as he slowly calms down from his breakdown. The movie in the background is now getting to the climax, but neither of you cares.

“You’re not mad at me [Name]?”

“How could I ever be?”

“There’s a lot of things to be mad at honestly…”

“And yet I can’t think of a single thing.”

Yuuji finally looks at you. His eyes are bewildered as if he can’t believe what his hearing. When his gaze finally met yours, you offered him a gentle smile. One that tells him that you won’t be leaving or getting mad at him anytime soon.

Perhaps that’s the kind of support he needed from a parental figure right now.

“Gojo-sensei said he wants everyone to surpass him. That people will one day grow up and leave him behind. But how could I? His Gojo-sensei, the sensei that was there for me. The one who shielded me from the higher-ups? How could I forget him after leading him to his doom?”

The mention of Satoru tugs a certain painful string in your heart, but you swallow it down. It isn’t about you, it’s about Yuji right now.

“Your sensei is just goofy like that. He thinks that his always being left behind despite some of us patiently waiting for him. But besides that, all he wanted was for there to be a future where the youth doesn’t have to worry. And that’s what we are working on right now aren’t we?”

Itadori nodded slowly as your words sank in on him.

“And maybe this was his happy ending too. You kids have a brighter future and he gets to rest in his own way. He's probably tired from dealing with those stuckups all these years.”

You said it jokingly, yet your lips contorted in a bittersweet smile that Yuji didn’t miss. 

Despite that, he said nothing in retaliation, for you don’t seem to be aware of what you look like right now.

Itadori knows you’re suffering too, despite taking on the role of being the strong one for all the students. He knows that you have not been sleeping well, same as him. The young man has seen you enter Satoru’s room every night. Has heard your quiet sobs whenever you do so. Your red, swollen eyes that you try to hide every morning has not gone past him.

And that’s why he feels so guilty. He felt that in his selfish pursuit, he had cost you your everything.

Yet it had also cost him nearly everything too.

So how can that be a selfish pursuit?

That’s the point you want Yuji Itadori to see and realize. The reason why you insist on moving forward despite only wanting to wallow in sadness.

If not for Yuji who is innocent in all of this, then for Satoru who wants to see the youth thrive even at the cost of his own life.

As the one who knows Yuji’s innocence and Satoru’s aspirations, you have made it your job to continue the six eyes user’s legacy.

“But [Name] have you really never thought of the what-ifs?”

Yuuji asks you once more after a few minutes of silence. This time his tone was lighter, none of those heavy, self-deprecating implications.

Okay maybe a little, but it’s better now.

“I have. But the what-ifs I’m thinking are a little different from yours. I think of things like, what if Satoru never got sealed?”

What if the whole Amanai thing went better? What if Suguru had listened to your pleas before leaving everything behind?

The student listened to you, his eyes closing ever so slightly. Probably tired from his crying session.

“I can see in your face that you’re curious as to why I never think of what if Satoru didn’t spare you. And that’s because there is no what-if. Satoru would have saved you no matter what, it’s his whole thing. Well aside from being the strongest that is.“

Your eyes also grew heavy. Both you and Yuji unknowingly fall asleep, for probably the first time in a while, as you talk.

In front of you, the movie’s credits had started rolling. However, by the time it happened both of you are already in sleep’s embrace.

[isatswap]

(In Stars and Time spoilers)

At the End of Time

TTOS version of act 5 ending from ISAT

Isabeau: Everyone! Isabeau: The Head Housemaiden is just ahead! Isabeau: He will be able to heal you, Loop, I'm sure! So just-- Just come!

Mirabelle: ...Ready?

(you try to step forward)

<thud>

Mirabelle: Woah, Loop!

(mirabelle caught you)

Mirabelle: ...It's gonna be ok, Loopie. Mirabelle: I got you.

(always by your side)

(...)

Isabeau: The House feels off even now. I hoped defeating The Scary Lady would fix things, but.....

Odile: I feel pressure from this place. I don't like it.

Bonnie: And the smell of sugar.... Bonnie: It feels like it almost gives me cavities. Definitely gives me a headache.

Mirabelle: It all feels.... a little worrying.

Isabeau: Yeah.... I hope everyone is okay....

Mirabelle: ....WAIT! Look, here!

Bonnie: ....

Isabeau: ...What....

Odile: That's.... An eclipse...?

(what)

(how does she,)

Odile: I've read something about that in my book, but.... It hasn't mentioned this... weird shade. What is that, even?

Mirabelle: It's not light, or dark, or anything like that. It's just odd. Mirabelle: ...The Head Housemaiden might know something about this.

Bonnie: We should get moving, then.

<two shades appear in the distance>

(!!!!!)

<...then dissipate>

Isabeau: ?

Mirabelle: Loopie?

Bonnie: Loop? What is it?

Mirabelle: I think they are even warmer than before.

Bonnie: ...hm.

(their hand on your brow)

(feels cold)

(feels nice)

Bonnie: Yep. Definitely a fever. Bonnie: ...Let's get going.

<you black out>

Loop: (!!!!!!!!) "EVERYONE....?!"

Loop: "NO NO NO NO NO--"

Isabeau: Loop?

<wake up>

Isabeau: Loop, is everything alright...?

Mirabelle: You're shaking....

Odile: ...Do you also get vertigo?

Bonnie: Sorry, Loop. I know you're exhausted, but just a little bit more.

Odile: ... Odile: Hold my hand, Loop?

Loop:

(yea)

(no no no no no no it's fine)

Odile: ...It's definitely not fine, Loop. Odile: And you definitely do, I can tell.

(busted)

(you hold her hand)

Odile: Alright, let's go!

Isabeau: J-just a little longer, Loop! Isabeau: The Head Housemaiden is just up ahead...!

Loop: "isa"

Isabeau: !!!! Isabeau: Um, yes, what is it?

Loop: "i'm sorry...... for what i said....." Loop: "and not... talking.... to anyone..."

Mirabelle: ...

Bonnie: ...

Odile: ...

Isabeau: ... Isabeau: T-There will be time for this later, Loop! Don't waste your energy on talking... Isabeau: Let's just go.

(...)

<The Head Housemaiden is at the balcony instead of the center of the room.>

Isabeau: HEAD HOUSEMAIDEN!!!!

King: ... King: Oh, Isabeau!

<He comes closer to Isabeau.>

King: Is everything okay?

Isabeau: No, our friend-- Loop--

Bonnie: They seem to be ill for some reason and we thought you could help us.

Mirabelle: Also the world seems to be ending and there is this weird shade in the sky so we would like help with that too.

Odile: Please help us!

King: Oh, alright, I'll do what I can.

King: Hm... King: Well, that is a fever alright. King: Judging by the symptoms.... They might've been using Crafts too much.

Bonnie: Using Crafts too much...?

King: Yeah. Maybe they've been using Crafts without resting or eating anything, not taking breaks to cool down and all that.

(no time to cool down)

(had to go)

Isabeau: Does that really give you a fever...? I've never heard of it...

Mirabelle: I have! It happens very rarely, though. Mirabelle: You would need to use Crafts an IMMENSE amount and for very long continuous stretches of time.

Odile: Like Crafting a painting for weeks, for example?

Bonnie: ...Or...

Isabeau: Or going through an entire House while fighting Sadnesses and a scary lady for hours?

King: Yeah, I think it's that.

(or)

(making sure)

(you live)

King: They will be fine, now that the battle is over, don't worry. King: I super promise.

Odile: Well, if it's a super promise, I believe you, hehe.

King: Heh. King: They just need some rest, that's all.

(head hurts)

(so hungry)

Bonnie: That's good, at least. Bonnie: And what about whatever the crab is happening outside?

King: Oh! Right, that... King: ...I don't actually know. I've tried to grasp it, but all I can tell is that something is VERY wrong. King: A total solar eclipse is not something you see every day, and definitely not something that should've happened today. Epsecially like this. King: It's like the Universe itself is telling us that this world is breaking.

Isabeau: ...?

Mirabelle: The Universe? What is that?

King: Yes, The... Universe.... King: !!!!!

King: I know you thought you adventure was over, but it can't end!!King: Something is broken, something is failing, rotting--

<STATIC>

King: Wait... No, this is all wrong! What--

Odile: Huh?

Mirabelle: King? Everything okay?

King: Bright one! King: Bright one! King: Bright one! King: Are you done--

(king gasps for air)

Mirabelle: What is happening to you?

Bonnie: We should be careful!

Isabeau: He is repeating stuff! Just like the rooms we went through! Isabeau: What happened to the world... Is it happening to him, too?

(the same)

(why why why why why why)

(but he can resist it, right? that means something has changed)

(you're not stuck)

(you're fine)

(you're--)

King: And yyyyou, Isabeau's companions... Thank you for helping him get this far. King: You have my gratitude, and the entire country of Vaugarde's!...

Mirabelle: Head Housemaiden, can you hear us?

Odile: He's scary.

King: I can't finish this line I can't finish this line, or, or--

<STATIC>

King: Hohoho! King: ....Soon, you will be able to go to your regular lives. Away from battle and strife. King: Finally, you'll all be able to go home!

Bonnie: Mhm.

Mirabelle: Definitely.....

(home)

(home?)

(they'll go home?)

(they'll go home

they'll go home

they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'll go home they'llgohomethey'llgohomethey'llgohomethey'llgohomethey'llgohomethey'llgohomethey'llgoho

Loop: "NO!!!!!!!!!"

Odile: Loop?

Bonnie: Loop, why are you--

(THEY CANNOT GO HOME!!!)

Mirabelle: LOOPIE?!?

Isabeau: LOOP!!!

Odile: WHAT THE CRAB IS HAPPENING?!?

Bonnie: EVERYONE, STAND BACK!

LOOP: (I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME)

<BATTLE START!>

Isabeau: Huh????

Bonnie: What's happenning?! Loop!!!

King: What... King: AH--! NO! King: Oh no, why is this happening-- King: Bright one! Loop! King: We can still fix this--

Loop: "NO WE CAN'T!" Loop: "YOU HAVE FELT THE UNIVERSE'S POWER, DIDN'T YOU?" Loop: "IT'S USELESS TO FIGHT IT ANYMORE..." Loop: "IT'S TOO LATE!!!"

King: PLEASE, LISTEN--

(YOU SNAP YOUR FINGERS)

(THE HEAD HOUSEMAIDEN GETS FLUNG AWAY)

Mirabelle, Isabeau: KING!!!

Bonnie: He is okay, he is okay!! But-- but we need to--

(FIGHT)

(Odile strikes!)

(AHHH!!)

(IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS)

Mirabelle: Dile, what are you doing?!

(Odile looks at her hands in disbelief.)

Odile: I-I didn't want to I-- I just--

Isabeau: It's okay, just be more careful! They are out friend!

Bonnie: We wouldn't want out friend to be hurt, right?

Odile: R-right!!!

(hurts hurts hurts)

(her attack was so strong)

(you did this to her)

(you did this to her)

(YOU DID THIS TO HER!!!)

<Attack the only person who's left>

<Mirabelle raises her hands and heals your wounds>

Isabeau: Loop, stop!!!

Odile: Why are you doing this?!

Mirabelle: What is happening, Loopie? Speak to us!!!

Bonnie: Loop!!!

Loop: "JUST DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!!!" Loop: "I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME, I CAN'T, I WON'T!"

Mirabelle: Huh?!

Isabeau: Loop, what do you mean? Isabeau: Isn't that what we all wanted?

Mirabelle: It's what we all wanted, right? Mirabelle: We beat Eu-- The Scary Lady! We save Vaugarde! We part ways!

Odile: Yeah! Now that the Lady is gone, we can go back to our normal lives, right?! Odile: Isabeau stays here, Boniface goes back to Bambouche, and... Me and Mirabelle....

(...EVEN MIRA AND ODILE HAVE SOMEWHERE TO GO!!!)

(THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!)

(YOU CANNOT ALLOW THEM TO GO!!)

(BECAUSE.... BECAUSE IF THEY DO, THEN...!)

<attack the only person who's left>

<Mirabelle raises her hands and heals the wounds>

Bonnie: Loop.... Bonnie: I don't understand! Don't you want to go back? Back to where you're from? Bonnie: Why else come with Isabeau, if you didn't want to beat the Scary Lady just so you could go back home?!

Loop: "I CAN'T GO BACK! AND I DON'T WANT YOU TO!"

Mirabelle: Can't go back…?

Loop: "I HAVE NOWHERE TO GO BACK TO, AND YOU ALL DO! I WON'T LET YOU!" Loop: "I WON'T LET YOU GO!!!" Loop: "WE CAN STAY HERE, CAN'T WE? WE CAN BE HAPPY!" Loop: "THE SCARY LADY IS BEATEN! THAT'S WHAT EVERYONE WISHED FOR!" Loop: "AND IT'S THE END! SHE IS GONE, AND YOU'RE WITH ME!" Loop: "SHE WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG! I SHOULD'VE LISTENED!!!" Loop: "AFTER ALL THIS TIME, I HAVE IT! A PERFECT ENDING! BECAUSE WE'VE WON, AND YOU'RE HERE!" Loop: "I WON'T LET YOU GO HOME, NOT NOW! I'VE GONE THROUGH IT ALL TOO MANY TIMES!" Loop: "I WON'T GO BACK, AND I WON'T LET YOU GO, NOW THAT YOU'RE HERE! NOW THAT WE CAN BE HAPPY!" Loop: "EVERYONE GOING THEIR SEPARATE WAYS… EVERYONE GOING HOME…" Loop: "THIS IS NOT WHAT I WISHED FOR!!!!!!"

Odile: What…?

Isabeau: "A perfect ending"…?

Mirabelle: "Not what I wished for"…

Bonnie: "Gone…. Through it all…. Too many times." Bonnie: That strange fella was correct, then.

<ATTACK THE ONLY ▮▮▮▮▮▮ WHO'S LEFT>

<BUT IT DOES NOT DIE>

Bonnie: Loop… Bonnie: The way you acted yesterday… The things you said… Bonnie: Maybe you DID mean some of them. Maybe you didn't. Maybe it's a little of both.

Mirabelle: But beyond that… Some of the things you knew… Mirabelle: How you knew what Isa's papers were about…

Bonnie: How you knew about the story of Mirabelle's pilgrimage…

Mirabelle: How you fell in battle, like you knew it would push Odile to defeat that Sadness…

Bonnie: How you knew I was looking for an old cooking book, something I hadn't told anyone, and immediately knew where to find it, as well…

Mirabelle: How you managed to go through the entire House on your own…

Bonnie: Even the way you were acting when we fought the Scary Lady… Bonnie: And, just now, how you've said you've "gone through it all, too many times"…

Isabeau: Huh?!? Isabeau: But this… this must mean…?

Bonnie: …Looks like that weird fella was right, hm?

Mirabelle: Hahaha… I thought they were speaking metaphorically, but… Mirabelle: Loop, you… Mirabelle: ... Mirabelle: You've been looping in time, haven't you?

(…!!!!!!)

(NO!!!!!!)

(IF THEY FIND OUT, THEY'LL HATE YOU!!!)

(IF THEY FIND OUT YOU WISHED FOR THIS, THEY'LL HATE YOU!!!)

(YOU HAVE TO LOOP BACK, YOU HAVE TO--)

(YOU FEEL A TUG ON YOUR STOMACH.)

<And the mainspring of time begins winding back>

<but then

it snaps>

Odile: NO!!!!!

Odile: YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! Odile: I'M NOT GONNA LET YOU GO ANYWHERE UNTIL WE ARE DONE TALKING!!!!!!

(no, no, she can't--)

(HOW DID SHE DO THIS?!?)

Odile: Wow, that was weird.

Isabeau: That feeling… That was Time Craft, wasn't it?! Isabeau: Loop tried to rewind time just now!!!

Bonnie: Odile, are you okay?!

Odile: ...Could be better. The smell is so overpowering.... Odile: Like someone just burned a sugar bag. So yucky...

Mirabelle: Yuck indeed… I'm getting a headache just standing here.

Odile: That doesn't matter now. Odile: Loop!!! Odile: I don't know how or why or what even is actually happening to you, but I won't let you escape. Odile: You are STAYING WITH US until WE ARE. DONE. TALKING!!!!!!

Bonnie: Yeah!!! Dile's gonna make you stay right here!!!

Isabeau: Go Odile, go Odile, go!!!

(no no no no no no)

(your friends look determined)

(do they not realise?)

(that you're doomed?)

(that you've doomed them all?)

(that you are a monster that isn't worth fighting for?)

(why is mirabelle stopping you from dying?)

(does she not get it?)

(she does not)

(the only thing you can do)

(is to die faster)

(cracks form across your chest)

Mirabelle: LOOP!

(she holds up her hands, but this time she doesn't drop them back down)

(the cracks slow their spread)

Mirabelle: Quick, we need to figure this out! Before they!-

Isabeau: T-that fella mentioned that Time Craft requires a lot of power, right? That's what the whole Wish Craft thing was about!

Bonnie: Yeah, you two were looking into what everyone else wished for and thought this was because everyone wished to save Vaugarde! Bonnie: But if you thought that was the reason...

Odile: ...Why would the wish center on you, dummy?

Mirabelle: And.... and just now, Loop said something about a wish they made...!

Bonnie: Loop… Bonnie: You must know this already. Bonnie: The reason you're the only one who got those powers, when we were also on a journey to fight the King… Bonnie: Isn't it because you, somehow, got involved? Bonnie: Isn't it because of something YOU wished for?

(no, no, no, no, no, no…)

Isabeau: Loop... Isabeau: I think you need to tell us your wish. Isabeau: Tell us your wish!!! It might be the key to freeing you!!! The key to making sure you won't loop anymore!!!

(no!!!)

Mirabelle: Tell us, so we can help you!

(NO!!!)

Bonnie: Tell us, so you can be saved!!!

(NO!!!!!!)

Odile: Tell us already, you stupid stone slab!!!!!!!!!!

(NO, NO, NO, YOU DON'T WANT TO!!!!!!)

(YOU DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT YOU DON'T WANT TO SAY IT YOU DON'T WANT TO--)

(YOU ARE ABOUT TO EXPLODE)

Mirabelle: Loopie…

Bonnie: Loop!

Isabeau: LOOP!!! Isabeau: This is what I wished for!!!

Isabeau: I wished for Vaugarde to be saved!!!

Bonnie: I wished for my sister to be okay!!!

Odile: I wished to win a stupid coin flip!!!

Mirabelle: And I wished that we'd be able to find you, to help you, to save you, Loopie!!!

Isabeau: And what about you, Loop?!

Mirabelle: What did you wish for?

Odile: What did you wish for!!!

Bonnie: What did you wish for, Loop!!!

(STOP!!!!!!)

(It doesn't matter!!!)

(It won't come true, you know this now, you will die in a few moments, you've accepted it, you did, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter!!!)

(they can't make you tell them, please, please, please--)

(IT WILL NEVER COME TRUE ANYWAY!!!)

Isabeau: Tell us!!!

Odile: Tell us!!!

Bonnie: TELL US!!!

Mirabelle: JUST TELL US, LOOPIE!!!

TELL US WHAT YOU WISHED FOR!!!!!!

[wildflower-otome]

[Translation] 9 R.I.P. - Toka - Godly End After Story

Source: Otomate Market Summer 2024 Short Story Card Note: Major spoilers for Toka's Godly End below.

Toka Short Story Card - Together as Mortals ~Being with her~

The first summer after I had made my decision to live together with her.

I spent my time treasuring each of the days I spent with her. In order to not waste even a second, I revolved my life around hers. Anything other than her wasn’t really that important.

Tonight, we were to go for an evening walk at her invitation.

…..Just ten more minutes until the time we’re supposed to meet.

It was strange how I enjoyed even the time I spent waiting for her.

‘Toka-san, sorry for making you wait. Looks like I’ve lost again.’

‘You’ve “lost”?’

‘You’re always the first one there wherever we meet up. I was just thinking that sometimes I’d like to be the one to get there earlier and wait for you for once.’

‘Heheh- I doubt that will ever happen, so you’d best give up on that.’

‘…..Just how many minutes early do you usually arrive?’

‘It’s a secret.’

Heheh- She seemed to be thinking it over. Still, she would never win against me. When all was said and done, I normally got here an hour before after all.

‘Come, let’s go. Your hand, please.’

As I spoke, I held my hand out to her, and she took it.

Before my hand had been small, but now it was large enough to envelop hers. The feeling of comfort it gave me wasn’t something I could express in words, however….it did make it feel more real to me that I was a grown man, someone suited to walk at her side as her lover.

I had been fond of my child form, but I couldn’t help but be glad I had been able to go back to this one.

‘Speaking of which, what will we be doing today?’

‘I was hoping we could go see the meteor shower together. I saw on TV that we’ll be able to see it starting at 9.’

‘Stars, is it?’

Back when I had been a god, I had never been interested in such things.

…..I liked that these experiences felt new to me. They made me feel more human.

‘Have you ever seen a meteor shower before?’

‘Yeah, I have some good memories of seeing them with friends and family in the past.'

Hmph. So she’d already seen them.

‘Is there anything that you’ve never done before?’

‘…..Hm~m. I wonder. Ah, I’ve never travelled overseas before.’

‘In that case, we should go together someday.’

‘I don’t mind, but why ask me about things I’ve never done before?’

‘I just thought that I wanted your “firsts.” The first time you see or experience something, no matter what it is, I want it to be with me.’

And when I said that, she gave a pained smile.

…..Had I gone too far? Maybe she’s thinking my feelings are too much pressure…..

‘I’m sorry. I've disgusted you, haven't I?’

'You could never do that. It’s just that…..I think it’s fine even if it isn’t the first time.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I…how do I put this…..I want to share the things that I’m glad to have experienced with you.  It’s because I was so moved when I saw meteor showers in the past that I wanted to show you the one tonight, Toka-san.’

��‘…..I see.’

Now that I thought about it, humans tended to find joy through shared experiences with others.

I, on the other hand, had such a narrow view on things. But that perhaps couldn’t be helped. Because she had always been everything to me.

‘That’s why, I’d like you to tell me about the things you’ve experienced, Toka-san. I want to know about the things you've found moving or fun.'

‘Heheh- Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not sure I have anything to tell you.’

‘Why not?’

‘All my good memories are within you. There’s nothing more special to me than the days I spent watching over you.’

Misa’s face reddened, and she went silent.

…..I hope she thinks of that as something to be happy over.

While thinking such thoughts, I looked up at the sky.

The stars twinkled in the now slightly darkened sky as the moon glowed faintly.

….I was looking forward to seeing the meteor shower. We would be able to see the scenery that she had been so moved by, together…..

[clavissionary-position]

Gilbert vs. Azel

(crack but also contains some main story and sequel route spoilers)

Azel: (standing saint-like and unbothered at the end of Gilbert’s pointed cane)

Azel: And now that you’ve learned that little factoid, feel free to donate this—(skewers a receipt onto the cane)—exact amount to me. You know my contact information, right?

Azel: God@TheTemple.com. I’m telling you that free of charge, of course. It’s common knowledge, but it’s okay to be embarrassed if you didn’t know.

Gilbert: Hehe. As it happens, all of your other contact information is also common knowledge. (Retracts his cane to glance at the receipt) To me, anyway.

Azel: I’m happy for you. That means there’s no need to send any more rando princes to my country. It must be gratifying for a mortal to be so creepy, I mean knowledgeable.

Gilbert: Oh no! I’m not the one mystically window-watching into every bedroom ever, am I, Mister God@TheTemple.com?

Azel: May I ask why you seem so envious about that? Your current god complex isn’t lacking by any means.

Gilbert: Well, as you know, you can never know too much. Hehe.

Azel: You’d be surprised. By the way I also charge interest on any pledged donations that aren’t paid off in a timely manner. You will find my rates are completely reasonable.

Gilbert: For a prince.

Azel: For a man with eclectic means.

Gilbert: Ah. (smile deepens) While I’m not Silvio, it’s not a bad idea to attack me through my investments. But unfortunately for you, I don’t pay any bills I can’t read.

Azel: Tsk, tsk. It’s not a good look to lie to an omniscient character.

Gilbert: (pouts) I’m not lying. I mean, this handwriting is pen vomit. It looks like a tiny animal tried to imitate what it thinks a human being writes like.

Azel: (maintains his generous smile even though his eye is twitching) I wrote the receipt out in front of you not even ten seconds ago. Had I known you suffered from such catastrophic lapses in memory, I’d have gone to Prince Chevalier first.

Gilbert: Ahaha! Maybe you should have. He’d have ended this conversation much earlier. With much more blood.

Azel: (grimace) I’m happy we can agree on that much, at least. So in the interest of parting ways as soon as possible… (points at the receipt)

Gilbert: How shameless. So you think you get to order an Obsidianite prince around? I almost admire your foolhardy levels of courage. But I think there’s something that needs to be made clear.

Gilbert: Tigers, you see, are at the top of the food chain. They answer to no man. No god.

Gilbert: Sometimes to bunnies, but that’s the exception, not the rule.

Azel: I don’t contest that. But unicorns, you see…

Azel: (appears to glow under the mid-day sun) …are not even on the food chain.

Azel: (eyes sparkling) They prance-fly in their own pastel dimension, unfettered by this world’s foolish ways and uncivilized biologies.

Gilbert: Hehe, that’s a creative way of saying you’ve noped out of reality.

Azel: (under his breath) Your face is a creative way of saying ‘punch me’.

Gilbert: Hm? What was that?

Azel: (saintly smile) Nothing, nothing. Just praying for you.

Azel: (scribbles an extra surcharge to the receipt) You’re learning so many new things today, Gil. I’m sure you’ll achieve a grown-up’s level of knowledge long before you reach a grown-up’s level of physical stature.

Gilbert: You know, you shouldn’t directly plagiarize insults from whatever is popular at the moment. If it’s too mainstream, it loses its bite.

Gilbert: (dramatic shrug) I really thought a living god would be much more inspired than that, but I guess I was wrong.

Azel: I have better things to do with my time than murder normies, stalk bunnies, and brainstorm funnies.

Gilbert: Are you sure about that? That second point, I mean. A little bunny told me about some very interesting dreams she’s been having as of late.

Azel: (serious expression) I’m glad you brought that up. Can you tell your pet to quit stalking me? I’m a very busy man and I have no interest in starting a harem.

Gilbert: (tilts his head with an evil smile) Tell her yourself.

Azel: …..?

That night in the rosy dream world…

Azel: Oh, goddammit, not this goddamn stupid dream again! (kicks one of the columns) Urgh, that hurts!

Emma: Um, A….zel? Oh hey, I remembered your name this time! Azel, are you here today?

Azel: Of course I’m here. If I’m here, you’re here. If you’re here, I’m here. If you have a cure, I’m all ears.

Emma: Aw, that’s a cute poem.

Azel: Shut-up.

Emma: Right, anyway, I’m sorry about this. (points a gun at him)

Azel: …

Azel: …….

Azel: (watches the crystalized rose on the table begin to rot)

Azel: (sighs)

Azel: Does he want a discount on the bill, is that what this is about?

Emma: (realizes what she’s pointing and scampers to put the gun away) Oh shi… I’m sorry!

Crystalized Rose: (goes back to being uwu)

Emma: I meant to hold out my hand in a truce!

Azel: Truce? I don’t remember being at war with you.

Emma: Apparently we are? Stuff gets twisted around in Gil’s head all the time. Although usually there’s at least a grain of truth to it. But basically I’ll stop stalking your dreams if you stop stalking mine. I don’t know how, but I figure this is a good start.

Emma: (looks up at the dreamy clouds) See, Gil? We’re talking it out. Stop strapping your gun to my thigh while I sleep, please? It tickles and it makes me want to pee!

Azel: This is our dream. He can’t hear you.

Emma: I know, but I heard that if you shout stuff in your dreams, it's more likely you'll remember it when you wake up.

Emma: AZEL IS DEFINITELY THE GUY WE'RE TRYING TO TAKE DOWN IN THE CURRENT STORY ARC!

Emma: I NEED TO STOP CASUALLY TELLING HIM NATIONAL SECRETS!

Azel: (covering his ears) You're the reason I wake up with seven hundred bags under my eyes.

Emma: So... truce?

Azel: Yeah, sure, truce, whatever. (goes to shake her hand)

Emma: (points gun at him again) I'm sorry, I can't let you actually physically touch my hand or Gil will literally kill you.

Azel: THIS IS A DREAM WORLD

Azel: I’m not even going to tell you that your love is cursed. Your entire man is cursed.

[blorbologist]

Wanted

[TLOVM season 2 spoilers up to episode 3!]

[Perc’ahlia / G / 1.4k / Cross-posted to AO3]

“So.” Percy leans as he walks, to better spy her reaction when he asks, “a rebellious phase?”

Vex, fiddling still with her retrieved feathers, quirks a brow. Undecided, apparently, as to if she wants to smirk or frown. “Something like that. Though I’m not sure poaching a monster qualifies.”

“Call it cunning, instead? But no, I was not referring to that.”

She really does wield those eyebrows like weapons. Aimed so precisely, arched with deadly intent. This one, nocked, wonders what he’s getting at. 

(A part of him laments that, caught in her sights, he could never deny her an answer. The rest of him wonders where the hells that came from. Put it back. It’s wiggling in his chest uncomfortably.)

“The wanted poster,” Percy explains. “The whole -” He waggles a finger over his right eye, ears, mimes twirling a chain around his wrist. It takes a gulp to draw a line around his neck. Hidden well, he hopes. (Probably in vain, knowing her, but she could always blame it on the cold.)

Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, that! You forgot one part, darling.” 

When he hums an inquiry, Vex flips him off with a smirk. Percy snorts a laugh, drowned by the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Unclear, if he’s thankful for that or not - the sound was unbecoming his station. Gods, Cass would have a field day. But Vex catches it, and it draws that smirk into a more genuine smile, and. Well. He can live with the indignity. 

(What, and this is thought with heated emphasis, the fuck.)

“How could I forget?” he teases. 

Vex’s face pinches in thought as she picks around a log, stepping in Grog’s tracks. Percy is left to gangle over it lest he miss her reaction. 

“Forget, hm? Why did you bother to remember?” She waits for him. “Looking for a bounty of your own? You know, Whitestone’s coffers could probably cover our debt.”

He frankly hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe - probably not the best use of our funds, what with the rebuilding, the refugees, and the…” 

Dragons, yes. The dragons. 

The airy snowfall is heavy with the reminder. 

Vex sobers immediately. “That wasn’t - I’m sorry, that was in poor taste.”

“You were only joking, Vex,” he assures her. “I know.”

They fall silent. Vex might be listening in to the conversation up ahead - Grog describing with great reluctance the old man who apparently made a fool of him, Pike and Vax pressing him for details. Percy might want to, but he can’t, not quite. 

There’s still a voice, in the back of his mind, where the smoke used to be. It’s his voice, his own, a nagging little conscience that had been even smaller still when engulfed by the demon’s might. Chilling, still, to remember that. 

No: he’s listening to recent memory. 

(“Why would I listen to the cursed heir, who wallows in self-pity, begging to be trusted again?”)

He wants to fix things, badly. Somehow. Can’t: not Emon, not Vasselheim’s indifference, he can’t even pay off a bounty. 

A stray flake lands on his glasses. For a moment, Vox Machina ahead are framed and fractured by icy architecture smaller than he can fathom. Then it melts, and they’re a blur. 

Percy scowls to himself, huffing as he pulls his glasses off, fusses around for his kerchief in his coatpocket. There’s a tell-tale crackle of rucked paper, and oh, he can salvage this!

“Besides,” he tries. It comes out weaker than he’d like, so he gives it another shot: “Besides: I was not exactly memorizing the bulletin board.”

Vex gives him a little oh, curiosity clearly piqued. So he unfurls his prize with a grin. Her next oh is much more dramatic. He takes it as praise and warms appropriately - Vex is not one to dole that out lightly. 

He holds out the wanted poster with no small amount of pride. It’s torn at the top, from where it had been nailed in, still bearing a clean cut through its heart courtesy of Kashaw’s magic. 

“Percy, dear!” Vex gasps. She almost sounds impressed - or maybe indulgent. The thought should rankle him, but he takes it gladly. “Since when are you a thief?”

“Figured you could use a souvenir,” he says. As he’s talking, he realizes that’s a flimsy excuse for the uncharacteristic behavior, and adds: “Maybe they will lose track of the exact bounty without the reminder handy? Though I doubt they’ll forget your face.”

“So I’m unforgettable, hm?” She’s fishing for compliments: he sees the hook in her smile. (He’s very tempted to bite.) 

“Maybe.”

(Are they flirting? Is this what’s happening? What is happening?!) 

Vex gestures lazily with her hand. “Give that here.” 

Percy obliges, peering over her shoulder as she scrutinizes her likeness. It’s a touch difficult, with the angle, to compare her to the sketch. The mugshot has no trace of baby fat - how old were the twins when they went through this phase? He casts a furtive glance at her ears - the divots where piercings could go exist still. He’s also close enough to see that. Shit. 

“They didn’t get my nose right,” Vex complains, thwacking the parchment with the back of her hand. 

“I’m sure we can go back and leave a scathing review of their portraitist.” She giggles. “Is the rest accurate?”

Percy, loathe to admit it, wants to know. Very badly. 

Vex, oblivious to how he’s schooling his features, nods. “Oh, mostly. I don’t think I had any tops showing that little cleavage, though.”

Percy sputters. “What-”

She elbows him in the side. “Kidding.” A wink. “Mostly.” 

While Percy wrestles with his vivid imagination (he was perfectly willing to believe he’d imagined the smoke demon offering very detailed inspiration - this mind is a wretchedly creative thing), she continues: “It’s pretty much as I remember it. Very punk - it was fun, but not helpful for finding work. Catch more flies with honey than vinegar and all. Though Vax never really grew out of it.”

Percy squints at the dark shape ahead, arguing now with Scanlan about which way to go. “You don’t say.”

There’s a smile in her voice: satisfied, and perhaps smarting still. “We weren’t exactly the sort mommy dearest would approve of. Still aren’t, really.”

“I’d beg to differ.” Except he can’t, because his - Percy swallows so hard he feels it in his teeth. “Heroes of Emon, and Whitestone. Soon Tal’Dorei itself.”

Vex goes quiet. Not the easy lull of breaths and walking - striving for silence, to hide. Percy pauses, confused, and gives her time to unfreeze. 

“It’s strange,” she says, more to herself than him. It almost feels like a private moment, despite their ongoing conversation; Percy scrutinizes his boots. “Not used to being wanted, you know? You saw how it was, back there. Vax and I have rarely been popular, especially not as little punks.”

When he next looks back to her, Vex is whittling at him with her eyes. “Why the interest, darling? Want to give the look a try?”

He thinks of smoke and a hot gunbarrel and black powder. Shivers. “Not really, no.“

The truth of the matter is: he swiped the poster on a whim. No carefully considered advantage was to be gained, justification found only in hindsight. Because there was something about Vex with the piercings and the teardrop tattoo and the choker (the choker) that made him incredibly stupid in the moment. 

He’s Percival de Rolo. He’s never stupid. He can’t be stupid. Why is this whole thing making him stupid?

(Like he said - not stupid. He knows damn well why and hopes it will pass him by and quickly, before he does anything idiotic.)

(He just… wanted it.)

(Wanted her?)

(Oh, dear.)

“The tattoo.” He almost blurts it out - barely, barely it comes out casual. “Does Vax still have the gods-awful thing?”

“I think so,” Vex says. She grimaces. “That really was a look, huh? Too much eyeliner, made him look perpetually sad.”

“So sad,” Percy agrees as Vax hollers, “What about my look?!”

Falling snow slowly speckles the parchment with weak moisture as they heckle Vax, until a brief game of keep-away ends with it skidding over the snow by behest of the wind, lapping melt as it goes. By the time Percy catches it, half the twins’ faces are bleeding smears of black ink. 

(He’ll think of that image, later.)

(Later.)

(For now, they laugh and brush off the snow and continue on. Percy, warm despite the snow up his shirt. And trying very, very hard not to think about that choker.)

[eventinelysplayground]

This is my first of idk how many entries for @lorei-writes and @wordycheeseblob Wish Upon an Aide challenge. I don't normally finish and post a fic in a few hours but I was super inspired for some reason by this. This fic is set at the end of Theo's route chapter 6 the start of Chapter 7, no major spoilers if you haven't read it yet. Most of Theo and Mitsukis dialogue is pulled from the chapters except for at the end and it's written from Kings pov. I chose the yellow prompts Joy and Warmth, they are a bit subtle maybe but overall I think they come across okay. I use italics for when the pets are 'speaking' WC approx 1984.

Nice to Meet You King

Just a bit more…and got it!

There was a metallic clank and soon the door was being pushed open.

Where are you going?

That should be obvious, just look outside.

Cherie stood up on her back paws and strained to look out the window.

Vic be nice, I'm going to greet Theo of course!

Oh, have fun King.

Cherie pouted a bit and King slipped his paw through the bars of her kennel to pat the cub on the head.

I'll be back soon and I'll tell you all about it.

Do you want me to tell you a story until he gets back?

Yay!

King strode out of the kennel shaking his head leaving his friends behind. Vic would never admit it but King knew he was fond of Cherie, even if she was a cat.

Now he should be home soon. I just have to make my way to the gate and hmmm that scent…

King stuck his nose out and sniffed the air around him as a faint scent tickled his nose.

Theo has that scent on him lately…it must be her!

King started bounding across the yard at an incredible speed all while continuing to sniff at the air. The scent grew stronger and he came to a sudden stop near some bushes. Slowly he crept forward while taking a deep breath as if to steady himself.

She should be just on the other side, I wonder what she's like? If Theo likes her she must be nice.

King shook his head and peered around the bushes. His eyes widened as he examined the lady standing there. He had been wondering what she looked like, she was a bit smaller than he thought she'd be but she seemed strong and she had a gentle face.

She seems nice, I bet she'd give me lots of treats and belly rubs. I like her!

Just then King heard the distinct sound of the gate opening. He looked up tail wagging but as soon as he saw the look on Theo's face his tail stopped and head drooped.

He looks that sad-mad again, I wonder why he's always so-ah oh no!

King noticed that the lady was moving and he darted further back. He was confused, she had clearly seen Theo and yet she was hiding from him.

Why is she hiding? Does she not want to see Theo because he's sad-mad? Hmmm, oh I know how to fix this!

King bounded out from his hiding spot and leapt at the lady's back.

“Eek!!!”

The lady turned around and King got a good look at her eyes.

“Bark bark!”

Oh boy she smells even better up close, and her voice and eyes are really gentle. Sorry I scared you, I didn't mean to. I'm sure you can help me make Theo feel better though!

King knocked the lady over and began licking at her face.

“H-Hey that tickles! Shh…”

Nope, he'll notice any second now I know he will.

“King! Did you get out of the kennels again so you could come welcome me home?...Hm? Oh, Hondje. I didn't see you down there.”

See, I knew he'd notice any second! Hey what are you doing Theo? No, I want to cuddle her more!

King was wrestled off the lady by Theo.

No fair, and why do you look like that now?

“W-Welcome back. Is this your dog Theo?”

You didn't tell her about me! Why didn't you tell her about me?!

“Yes, that's right. Af, King. Hier.”

I want to go back! Better make a good impression on her though.

King swiveled his head at Theo's command and stood at attention.

Treat now? Please, I made you look good!

King gave Theo the very definition of puppy eyes.

“...All right, fine.”

Oh boy oh boy!

As soon as King saw the bone he pounced on Theo placing his big paws squarely on his chest.

This should work!

King bounced enthusiastically trying to get the bone from Theo.

“...Af! Nee, King! Sit! I said sit!”

Good boy Theo, it's working! Just a little bit more.

Just as King had planned, the lady started laughing uncontrollably.

“...Hey! What do you think you're laughing at?”

King looked between Theo and the lady anxiously waiting to find out if his plan worked.

“I can't help it! He won't listen to you at all! I think King’s the perfect name, because he's clearly the one in charge!”

Hehe, oh I really like her. I hope we get to keep her!

The lady kept laughing and King heard Theo sigh.

“... I don't even care anymore, not after seeing that silly look on your face.”

Oh good it worked. Theo's not sad-mad anymore.

“I had no idea you really had a dog, Theo”

Guess even though you spend a lot of time with her you still aren't there yet are you?

“A painter I knew just up and left, leaving King behind. So I took him in. I keep him in the kennels by the horse barn.”

Whoa!

Theo lifted King up and nuzzled his fur.

I love your cuddles. I bet she gives awesome cuddles too.

“I never thought you'd get big, that's for sure. No, I didn't!”

Cut it out, you're gonna embarrass me in front of…wait a minute what’s her name? She has a name right? Look Theo, the way she's smiling at you! Now it's gone, why did she stop smiling like that?

“He just left? And you don't know where he went?”

She's sad for me?

“Struggling artists lead very rough lives under intense pressure. He probably fled at night because he couldn't pay rent.”

Don't tell her that you idiot, you'll just make her more sad! Don't be sad nice lady, I'm really happy here with Theo and everyone else! Well I could do without Arthur, he's always with Theo though and I guess he's a good friend but. I don't like how he always seems to smell like death. Did you know death has a smell?

“But to this little one, his owner was all he had. …And I know how painful it is to lose someone who was your whole world.”

King hung his head for a moment and let out the softest whine.

At the time maybe, but not anymore. Now you're my world Theo, I just wish you weren't so sad all the time.

The three of them stood in silence for a moment. Clearly the lady didn't know what to say to help Theo at the moment and King watched as the leaves blew in the breeze.

“I’m sure he likes his old owner better.”

What? No Theo! Why do you always have to think so-

“No, I'm sure King was so happy you found him and gave him a new home, Theo. Otherwise he wouldn't sneak out to greet you, right?”

That's right! Oh your hands are soo soft.

King closed his eyes for a minute but partially opened one up just in time to see a smile on Theo's face.

“I hope you're right.”

Don't worry she is.

“...Ah, I almost forgot.”

Aww why are you putting me down? Oh is that another bone?

King wagged his tail in anticipation of another treat but instead Theo pulled something out of his bag instead.

What's that, not food. Is it for the lady? You got her a treat too!

“... That's an awfully pretty magnifying glass for you, Theo. Did your other one break?”

….I can see why you wouldn't think it was a gift but-

“No, silly. This is yours.”

Uggh don't call her silly.

“What…? It's for me?”

Ok if you keep saying things like that you're not helping yourself.

“You're helping me with work for a month, right? You need the proper tools if you're going to be examining paintings so much.”

That's right, wait what? She’s helping you with work? And what do you mean for a month? What happens after a month Theo? Theo?

King tilted his head to the side and started to look nervously between the two.

“Hey, Theo. Why are you letting me help you with work?”

King looked at Theo.

“I already told you. So I can keep an eye on you.”

“Are you sure that's it?”

No, he's lying! I don't know why but go on, tell her the truth. See she can see your holding back in your eyes.

“...Yes, that's it.”

Uggh now who's the silly one. Look you made her upset now, why can't you just be honest?

King hung his head and let out a silent growl.

“But if you don't like it you can quit at any time."

No, no she can't! Don't say something so stupid, bad Theo!

“... What?”

“Everyone's been on my case saying I'm forcing you to come with me. What? Isn't that why you asked? Because you don't like it?”

No, that's not it!

“No, that's not it at all!”

See? Are you really that clueless as to what's happening here, or do you just not want to see it?

King sat and stared up at Theo and tilted his head ever so slightly in thought. Theo started to put the magnifying glass away but the lady grabbed his hand.

“Oh? So you do like it?”

She likes you.

“I never hated it, Theo. I mean I still don't know what I'm doing-”

Heh you're not the only one.

“But coming with you to look at paintings is, you know…fun.”

Theo, Theo do you see that! Do you hear how fast her heart's beating?

King stood up wagging his tail furiously but it stopped as soon as he heard Theo laugh.

“I was only joking, Hondje. Don't worry, I'll work you extra hard tomorrow, so don't be sad.”

“Who said I was sad?!”

That wasn't funny, if you mess this up Theo…

“Go on and take it. It's yours.”

“Thanks. I'll take good care of it.”

“What are you smirking for, hm?”

“Hehe…nothing.”

King continued to look between the two watching their changing expressions. He noticed the lady's cheeks turning progressively redder before she spoke again.

“I should really go help Sebastian with dinner.”

The lady bent down to King and he sat for her as she scratched him behind the ears with her dainty fingers causing his tail to wag furiously.

“It was nice to meet you King, I hope I get to see you again later.”

Yes please, I would love to see you again and get more scratches.

“You can visit King any time, Hondje. What kind of owner would I be if I didn't socialize you properly.”

No no no, very bad Theo!

“Very funny Theo.”

King saw the lady roll her eyes before she headed back to the mansion. Once the lady was out of sight completely he hung his head and whined. Theo sighed then reached down to stroke his head.

“So what did you think of Hondje boy?”

King started to wag his tail and pant.

I liked her a lot. She's so full of life and joy and warmth.

Theo was still looking in the direction the lady had left in, he seemed to be thinking about something.

“She looked so lost and frightened when she got here. I just want to help her, make her happy if I can.”

Theo…you can.

King looked up at Theo just as he cleared his throat.

“ There's something special about her you-whoa.”

King got up on his hind legs resting his paws on Theo's chest just as he had done earlier and looked right into Theo's eyes.

She really is Theo. She was so kind and warm and gentle, do you realize how fast your heart's beating? She's everything you need and she could bring you so much joy Theo if you only let her so please, please don't mess this up.

[wawamouse]

⭐, please !!!!! (if it suits you)

Dealer's choice, ei? I guess I will talk about "Life Gets Tedious Enough"/Something Deranged, my very first Oz fic(s). :) Immediate thoughts: horrible title. Doesn't match the theme I created with the rest of the series. The series also has a horrible name—"Something Deranged". Bit of a misnomer. The series is pretty tame. Fic #1 and the series title are both song lyric titles, that's why they don't match the theme. I honestly want to change both but idk what to so eh.

But yes, let's take a walk back to August 30, 2023. I will set the scene and first admit that the I had originally watched Oz in 2018 bc my college had HBO Go lol, but I had not watched it in its entirety (so Rewatch 3 is more like Rewatch 2 if we're honest…). I had read a lot of fanfic back then (mostly Miguel/Ryan) for obvious reasons (abundance) (Keller/Beecher didn't interest me that much) (I actually didn't ship anyone when I originally watched Oz — kind of amazing in retrospect). I download fanfic rather than bookmark it, so a partial Fringe rewatch in 2023 had led me to remember Charlie (Kirk Acevedo) was also in Oz, which led me to remember my treasure trove of Oz fic. I had actually used Miguel's character as the basis of an OC for a story I was writing back in 2018, about these two guys stuck at a cabin in the middle of nowhere, having to pull a lever everyday to prevent the sky from collapsing or whatever (as bad as it sounds), and I was like "hm" maybe I should reread some Oz fanfic to be re-inspired! (Note: I never did end up revisiting the story) Cue me rereading all the fic I had saved. Cue me rewatching parts of the actual show to contextualize the fanfic and Remember. Cue me being like "Hold on a sec, this Chico guy…"

Again, I didn't really ship anyone with anyone, but I thought Guerra was kind of funny for the atrocities (also and perhaps mostly because he was hot) (his pretty privilege...) (But also: him being a character that basically only exists to support Miguel's storyline = very funny. Very gay). In my Oz revisitation of '23, I was like "Wait, d'oh! enemies to lovers! Claaaassic! I'm sure this has been done!" Well, no spoilers there, it had been done. About 5 times, with only @/merelyafigment's wonderful "Dose" existing at the time I would've initially been crawling through the fanfiction archives. WOEEEEE!!! <My bafflement and disappointment.

Here was a dynamic that spanned nearly the entire show that seemed primed for the fanfic girlies (and me lol) to read into. Only 5 fics?? (I will say it was pretty serendipitous that 2 of them were Chinese, which I had taught myself to actually read starting basically just 3 years prior 🫡 物以类聚 人以群分 😆) That said, I think it was perfect that I got back into Oz when I did, though, because I didn't have much confidence in my fic writing ability before 2020 when I lost my mind and wrote 59 fics for a TV show I watched in April a month after most lockdowns began LOL. That experience was literally the only thing that made me go (SIGHHHH) "I guess I will have to be the change I wish to see in the world". And then I wrote "Life Gets Tedious Enough".

Ah, and now the commentary of the actual fic itself begins.

It's kind of funny to read it back and see where some of the characterisations and dialogue quirks I wrote into that fic, and that series in general, differ on how I would approach Miguel and Chico's characterisations now. Firstly, I used "hermano" a lot in that series, something I picked up from reading other fanfic which I don't use at all in my fic anymore, as I realised in subsequent rewatches that it's not really used in the show by anyone except by Ryan, mockingly.

I like the Chico hallucination choice I used in this series, though:

A part of him thinks nah, no way, remembering the fucking shadows—pointing at him, sending him away, back to Oz, that place he’d never left—remembering all those hands grabbing him, ghosts jumping on his back, sliding a garrote around his neck. But the green tab sliding out onto Alvarez’s finger brings to mind other memories, too—music pulsing through him, colors of the world warping to the beat, the world spinning, Alvarez seeming to glow in front of him— The little pill of Destiny sits pretty against the color of Alvarez’s skin, and Chico—Chico starts to lean forward.

And I see my penchant for writing Chico winding up Miguel until they straight up fight about it began here. There is a sensitivity and uncertainty I gave to Chico's characterisation in this series which began at the end of "Life Gets Tedious Enough" that carries into "Holding Up the Sky". I still flip flop on in terms of whether or not I think it's a stupid choice and random characterisation. There's definitely a lot in this series that I think I missed the mark on/feel self conscious about, but I was pretty satisfied with how "Life Gets Tedious Enough" turned out at the time that I wrote it, and I still think it's one of the better fics in the "Something Deranged" series. Idk. It's kind of a whatever series in general imo so I'm a little 🥴 that it's more or less got the most eyes on it out of all my Oz fanfics. It's okay, though. I was trying stuff out. I wish I had made "Thicker Than Water" a little more stand alone, though. It's highly referential to "Holding up the Sky", which is a bit of a weakness maybe... Although it was fun to rework certain moments into Chico's POV and change the emphasis of the scene or tweak the vibe, something I revisited in the alternating POVs with "Third Day of Spring". Worse fics in the series gotta be "Ripples in the Night" or "Aftershock", just because they are forgettable, I guess? Like among all the Oz fics I've written, those two ping the least in my brain and memory 😂. My favorite moments in the "Something Deranged" series gotta be when Chico no-nonsensely holds Miguel's hand in "Rolling On" and also in "Sun Dog" when they're standing in that patch of sun in the private hospital room, and Chico's leaning against Miguel :)

Okay, I've rambled way too much so I will leave things off here.

[baenyth]

Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Reviews Episode 4-7: Sole Crusher

Finally! Time to say hello to Zoe and get a grip on her character? Is she interesting and adds something new to the table? Or is she just there so there can be a new Bee holder?

This show's still trying to say this is actually Paris and not just a small town imitation while the real Paris is converted to a theme park for tourists? There should be far more tourists than just Zoe then!

Like I feel like Marinette's parents' bakery is the one of the only, if not the only, one in Paris! Is this all because this is a cheap CGI-animated show or something!? They can't render in more people or make more bakery sets?

'The best bakery in Paris' is Marinette's parents'. Of all the bakeries it's the main character's and she isn't even that rich. My theory is getting truer by the second.

The fact that Zoe's father isn't even there makes me believe he isn't there for her life much. My parents would be with me if I was a 14-year-old going to Paris. Or at least one of my parents. I know I doubt Zoe's mom was in her life because she's clearly a deadbeat,

Yup. There she is, the deadbeat.

Oh. He was a deadbeat and Zoe did go to boarding school. As I thought.

Glowing shoes

pffft Zoe hates her at first sight

Also I know this is supposed to show Chloe as someone evil but I can only think about how warped her perception of society is.

pffffffft she's literally in the closet

Also wouldn't it be more practical for Sabrina to do her homework at home or is this just a lousy excuse to demonize Chloe?

This isn't even going to be a good downfall arc, isn't it? Like with the OG of serialized, more serious cartoons, Avatar, had Azula, a rich powerful 14 year old with minion-friends aside her, undergo an downfall arc, but there was still sympathy and understanding to her downfall. I consumed enough spoiler content to know the show treats the main Adult Villain as more sympathetic than Chloe.

Oh right. Audrey cheated on her husband! I forgot all about that while I saw Chloe get worse. Andre should divorce her but he's a bit too much of a pushover.

Marinette believed that!? Isn't she supposed to be good at figuring out liars? Oh, right. She didn't recognize Adrien when he had a fencing mask on.

pffffffffffffffffft "Do you think we can adopt her?"

And the limo's pink as well!

Or did Marinette see through the lies? Or is she just guessing?

Pfft the hyper-scheming

IS THAT TOMOE TSURUGI!? SHE WAS AN ACTRESS!?

pffffffffffffffffffffffffffft this is probably one of the [%@!$] akumas by far. A giantess that gains height by stepping on people.

I wonder how expensive those two otherworldly shots were.

Seriously? Zoe's charm is gold and diamond-themed?

Ivan was the first one to comfort her. I feel like this adds character for him. Good. We barely have any content. Hm. It shows initiative and a physical side to him. Maybe his love language is physical affection?

Well, she has a backstory that ain't half bad, but it feels like she's just here to show how 'irredemable' Chloe is.

[kpchrs]

Flight of Icarus Spoilers and Opinions - Hellcheer Version

Just my thoughts on the Hellcheer crumbs in the book. I wanted to write it short and just for myself, but it became longer so I thought I'll share it with people who might be interested.

I haven't rewatched S4 and I haven't processed Eddie's characterisation as intense as fanfic writers so maybe I can be wrong here and there, but this is just my opinion. This is not too organised, sorry, I'm sleepy lol

I think the fact that Eddie thought Chrissy was just another conformity-loving cheerleader girl fits his character. Eddie has formed his prejudice to jocks rock-solid since forever here, thus skipping her existence until then.

Chrissy may have been pressured to behave as the perfect cheerleader too so far, but the sweet Chrissy can't just stay quiet when the jocks harass Gareth. Chrissy is different, thus Eddie notices her again.

I love it when Eddie says "straight teeth". Maybe I overanalyse it, but that just symbolises that Eddie is far too stuck up in his prejudiced thinking. Because Chrissy - by coincidence because I'm sure the production casted Grace without taking account of her appearance - doesn't have what society called "perfect teeth". I don't know if the writer wrote that deliberately, but I think that's interesting? Just symbolises even further that Chrissy is actually not the cliche cheerleader girl he thought of.

I don't think of this book as absolute canon, but based on this, my headcanon is Eddie notices Chrissy more and more from then on (or after the book time (I haven't finished the book lol)) and as a result, he respects cheerleaders and has a soft spot for them, which is why he was kind to the cheerleaders in the cafeteria scene.

About him not remembering her until then, as much as I love the "Eddie has a crush on Chrissy since middle school" fanon, I think it's understandable that he didn't clock her or remember her until then. He got a life after middle school, I guess. But since in the show, Eddie called the talent show "hangout", the writer should have shown that thought process in the book. Or like emphasising more that this is a significant moment for him. But maybe I'm just asking for too much lol Hellcheer is canon but not "canon" anyway.

I like that the writer emphasises subtly Jason's...craziness, to foreshadow his character and what he is capable of doing.

As I have said before, I like the talent show background story. Lots of Hellcheer writers have written a similar version of their own, so it's very familiar. It also foreshadows Chrissy's struggles with her parents (as the writer should, what a missed opportunity if not). I can't make up my mind yet about Chrissy's "hungry jealousy" at Eddie's dad being late though.

We don't know much about Chrissy's dad. I love her fanon dad's characterisation fans based on the vision, but this makes me wonder if there's so much more about her dad. But I think fanon is not that far off, seeing the "blank-faced" Philip Cunningham at her daughter being lectured by the abusive Laura ("grabbing her shoulder and yanking her to the door" wtf??????? Chrissy Protection Squad, go go go!!!)

The fact that middle school Eddie immediately says sorry to Chrissy pointing at her mum tells me that he realises Chrissy's struggles intuitively. I love that Chrissy immediately opens up to Eddie with that "me too" and "like a secret she never told anyone". Just like 20-year-old Eddie sees through her and 18-year-old Chrissy opens up to him at the picnic table.

Well, I love Steve Harrington and his cameo. I like that it is implied that Jason is kinda scared of him lol

I'm overanalysing again but I love that Jason immediately pulls Chrissy away the moment she starts to defend Eddie. Just shows that Jason is that asshole who wants Eddie to...hm, get executed(? lol) no matter what, just like how he is in S4. But maybe it's more likely so that Chrissy won't tell the truth, hah.

[travellingwiththedead]

IwtV s2e4 thoughts (not a long post this time, do not have the time for it today, but behind read more for spoilers anyway):

They can't miss, can they? Every damn episode is just so good.

Claudia going from giving it her all in the play despite the role to just going through the motions? Delainey, the actress you are (and heck she's so cute this episode).

Santiago scheming left and right and just being a nuisance? As he should be. Ben Daniels, you're perfect.

Louis being a pretentious little bitch with his art scene stories? Also perfect, love it. He's never not gonna be a snob, I fear xD

Ouch, Armand, you really had to hit us with the sex trafficking this early, huh? Poor dear, still an unhinged gremlin tho. I sure hope we'll get enough seasons to a) see him and Marius reunite (and I guess bitch at each other a lot?) and b) get a whole season of Armand's backstory through his eyes (because I guess we'll get Marius' take told to Lestat if we make it to s3?)

I am kind of miffed that his parents apparently sold Arun into slavery when in the book they would never and losing him basically breaks his father. I feel it's important for Armand to know that his parents felt his loss so keenly. But I guess having to add in some kind of abduction plot into a very brief scene about his backstory would have made it too long? (Edit: rewatching the scene I might have missunderstood it? Maybe he means his parents thought he was off to work on the boat but the captain made him a slave? I'm not sure now how we're meant to understand it now)

Next episode also looks good, give us some San Fran flashbacks, yesssss. Too bad I don't know when I'll be able to watch it next week since I'll be at my mom's....hm...

[abysskeeper]

"Small ideas" I tell myself. Needed to get something out of my system, so have an atheistic wizard/cleric and a former God's Chosen two wizards duking it out and making out about godhood and relationship insecurities. Spoilers for Act 3...it happens sometime early there I guess.

While I love Fiona and Wyll dearly, Nox'ani is my second Tav playthrough and she and Gale are just...something else. This is rough and messy, but maybe I'll clean it up in full one day soonish. I just gotta get the writing flowing again.

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The moment he set his eyes on it, Nox should’ve known it would come to this. Well, perhaps that was a touch unfair to expect from herself. She was more concerned with everything else going on in the chamber to have noticed or really considered what the Crown was at the time. So really, the moment Gale sat her down and explained to her what it was and what he hoped to accomplish with it, she should have known it would come to this.

“Alright…let us imagine you manage to acquire the Crown. What then, hm?” Nox asked, crossing her arms against the chill of the nighttime breeze that swept through the glade they found themselves in. That would be her excuse in any case, though she knew it was a common gesture she performed against her own, rising frustrations.

“You wish to battle with Mystra?” she pressed, and then rolled her eyes with a derisive snort, “As if we have no idea how that would go. This is the goddess’s third incarnation, and Toril has tired to tear itself apart each time she died. Even if you won against her, there is no telling how the Weave would react, nor no telling how Toril would react to the Karsite Weave if it came to it. Or—”

Her face fell as the darker thought crossed her mind. It was one she had no desire to entertain, one she knew logically made no sense in the grander scheme they were painting, but then much of Gale’s remaining feelings regarding Mystra likely defied logic. Understandably so, all things considered. “—Or do you still wish to return it to her? To return to her? Do you wish to kowtow to her again in hopes she will finally see your worth and return you to her side?”

For his part, Gale had afforded her neutrality and respect as she spoke against his desires. His face quickly soured at this accusation though, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a frown. “You are more than aware that is as unfair as it is untrue,” he refuted curtly.

“Fine,” she agreed quickly, because she was aware that it was unfair to ask, and she figured it was untrue by now. As she knew, logically it made sense, but a part of her still doubted. Likely, a part of her would always doubt whether he was truly over Mystra. A part of her would always doubt she was enough to sideline a goddess. But that was her burden to bear and it was her insecurity to trouble over and puzzle out, not his. Especially not now.

“That still does not answer any of my prior questions,” she pointed out quietly.

“Your prior questions…” Gale trailed off and let out a heavy sigh, “Your prior questions are worthy of consideration, undeniably, but they are still hypothetical—and they are hypothetical because you are correct. We do not know how Toril would react, it could be as you expect, or it could be as I expect. Or it could be anywhere in between, and that is part of the risk,” he acquiesced. His eyes fixed on her, imploring her to understand, “But is it not worth the risk, Nox? All it would take is but a moment, and then I…and then we…”

“And what of we?!”

She grimaced as she interrupted him and he stopped, stepping back in surprise at her outburst. But was it really so unexpected? This was the second time he had slipped in his explanations, the second time he had put himself first and considered her and them together second. It was unintentional, she would allow him that grace because she knew it. It was born from years of fending only for himself, of having to only consider himself and what he needed. It was born of relying solely on himself, and knowing he would be the one to complete this plan of his. She knew it was no slight against her, but it still bore questioning because she worried it was the crux of the issue.

Selfishly, it was the crux of her issues. Frightfully, she worried it was the driving force behind his decisions. What of them together?

“Then what of us?!” Nox demanded, and she could feel her throat starting to burn, “What of me?!” Her feet carried her back a step of their own accord, and she looked up at him with hot, blurry eyes. “Or do you not realize this is a plan for one? What would you wish of me when I am no longer able to stand at your side as an equal?” she demanded. “Would you have me kneel at your feet as a subordinate? Is that what you desire?”

Her jaw clenched at the very thought, but to prove her point she slowly lowered herself to her knees before him and then bowed her head as if in prayer. She felt a tremble pass through her—frustrated, yes, but also enraged…fully aware of just how many times she had held this exact position to no avail—before she ground out, “Is a worshipper what you seek? A single soul to praise the Great Lord of Magic?”

She needn’t look up to feel the shift in the air around them, the weight of anger extinguishing like the flame on a wick being snuffed and transforming into something altogether…different. Slowly, she raised her head and met his stare with her own. His brown eyes were dark, nearly black, and the charge that surged through their locked gazes made her mouth run dry as the rest of her words died on her tongue. The thought struck her, briefly, that if he wanted her on her knees all he had to do was ask…which was a surprising revelation in itself because a month ago that wasn’t the case.

Though a month ago, Nox supposed, she had yet to admit she had fallen for this frustratingly incredible wizard who refused to see the worth he contained in his own, mortal self.

Not that it mattered either, because that wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t just what this was, anyways. A desire sparked in his dark eyes, the kind she still had trouble recognizing and accepting being directed at her, but it was also nothing in comparison to the flare of concern shining there. It was a burning sympathy, a warm, aching understanding of what she had been through, and if she were honest, she should have expected nothing less. They hadn’t suffered in exactly the same ways, but they ran parallel to one another. He had no need to use words, nor to even use the connection of their tadpoles. The very question—the very recognition she just made towards the act of kneeling pulsed through the Weave that surrounded them, the magic they delighted in sharing with one another.

How many times?

The urge to turn away, to avert herself from his knowing stare and the vulnerability it caused, disintegrated the moment Gale started moving towards her. Nox stilled completely, her breath catching in her throat as he lowered himself onto one knee beside her and placed his hands on her arms. Gently, he assisted her back up to her feet and lightly caressed up and down her arms a few times before he refused to waste another moment. A warm hand cupped her cheek, and he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her mouth.

Any lingering negativity twisting in her gut vanished as she sighed into him. He took the opportunity, his hand sliding back to tangle in her hair and his tongue tracing over her lips in wordless question. Nox answered immediately, a small moan escaping her while her hands came up to grasp at the fabric of his shirt. Gale wrapped his free arms round her waist and pulled her closer, eagerly deepening the kiss…and she was gone. She melted into him, her legs nearly giving way while he explored her mouth and snuck his hand under the hem of her tunic to lightly trace down her spine.

It was easy to get lost in him, especially in these moments. No matter how passionate or sweet the kiss, his were always tinged with an almost desperate devotion, a burning, devouring need for her to see, to feel, to know just how far he would go for her. And no matter how insignificant or insecure she felt, no matter how exhausted she was or how hard she questioned herself…it always worked.

His adoration was unquestionable, occasionally she simply needed a reminder.

The need for air finally broke them apart, but he barely moved away from her. Still cradling the back of her head, his forehead rested on hers, his lips only a hair’s breadth away from her own. “I would have answered you in Elturel,” he spoke into the infinitesimal space between them, voice low and rough with laden emotion.

Before she could even consider his admittance, Gale kissed her again. She felt the weight of the words he just spoke still hanging heavily on his lips as they brushed over hers. “I would have answered you in Avernus,” he continued, speaking the words against her. His voice was still a low hum, rough and weighted and hushed as if he was speaking world-shattering secrets only she was to know.

Perhaps, in a way, he was.

Finally, Nox opened her eyes to look up at him, her surprise and wonder met with the most smoldering sincerity. “I would have answered you every time you asked during your travels of Candlekeep and Waterdeep and Baldur’s Gate,” he said, “I would have ensured you knew I was always at your side with every step you took. I would have ensured you never, never felt the need to question your own worth. I would have venerated you—”

His hand moved forward, cupping her cheek again, as a soft, adoring smile slipped onto his face and warmth pooled into his eyes. “—And when the time came…when the time may still come, I would make you my equal, you have never been anything less,” Gale decided easily, as if he was discussing meal options and not apotheosis. “We would stand side by side as we reshaped all that we know, all that we love, into something worthy of its potential,” he added, “We would finally make things better for mortals—for those who know our struggles intimately well.”

Nox let out a low, long breath, and she leaned forward to rest her head against his chest. Her eyes slowly closed again as she listened to the steady thrum of his heart beating and felt the mystical buzz of the Orb—the Karsite Weave—against her cheek, and truly considered his words. It was not a difficult task, given how many of her own words were entangled in the spaces of all he said and all he meant. How many times had she lamented the Gods’ obvious lack of care to much of mortal suffering during their journey? How many times had she besmirched the Gods for withholding their divine power from man? How many times had she claimed mortals would be better off without the divine?

And yet…the worst part was knowing that it was possible. Claiming the crown from the Absolute and reshaping the world into something they believed in would not be simple tasks by any means, but they were not impossible feats. In fact, they were hurtling towards both options being well within their grasps. But…she was not so sure it was a goal she desired anymore.

She was not so sure it was ever a goal she desired to begin with.

Attaining godhood had never been the option she considered when lodging her complaints. If anything, she wanted to see mortals free from the divine, not grasp the power herself. And now…she still had questions. She still took issue regarding many things, but Moonrise forced much of her perspective to shift. Hearing Selûne’s call again, watching Shadowheart turn away from all she knew in pursuit of something better with another deity, meeting Dame Aylin and witnessing what divine power…divine justice could do for a land so plagued by malice for so long…it complicated matters considerably. If nothing else, it altered her thoughts drastically and left her with an even more complex web to untangle in her mind regarding her emotions towards divinity.

That, however, was not necessarily the facet she needed to address. Not now at least…not yet. She still had time to weave her way through her tangled thoughts when there was another, far easier matter—far easier for her, at least—to discuss first. It was something she only understood recently they both struggled deeply with, how they both found that clawing insecurity lodged in their hearts when faced with each other, but now that she knew it existed in him just as readily as her, it was easy for her to read between the lines of how he spoke to her. How he spoke about her and all he wished he could do for her.

All things considered, it was really rather ironic.

“And I know you would have done all of that for me had you been around, regardless of godhood,” Nox finally murmured into his chest, “In spite of it, even.”

She paused, letting her words hang around them and waiting to see if he would respond to her. When he did not, she shifted enough to peer one eye up at him. The smile was gone from his face, but Gale was still watching her with an aching tenderness and now with an added look of curiosity.

“I have been…wondering, of late,” she admitted quietly, spurred on by his inquisitive gaze, “…I would swear apotheosis lays claim to what little may remain of a mortal before being deified. The Gods may wield their divine power, and I have lamented more than enough about all they keep from us, but I have often failed to consider what we have in their place.”

She cast her eyes downward as she considered and continued her thought, “There may be hundreds of worlds out there, but even the one at our fingertips is vast in its beauty. We are vast and beautiful in our capacity. We know and experience more than the divine could ever conceive. We are the ones who dream, who believe, who stop and wonder at the world around us. Hells, even our faith in the divine is something precious and beautiful they will never experience.”

Nox paused, smiling to herself as a blush tinted her pale cheeks. “And most importantly, what I have discovered most recently, is that we love.” She pulled away from him, just enough to view him and his shining eyes clearly. After a moment, she reached up with one hand to press it against his cheek. “All of that to say, I don’t need a god, Gale. I’ve never needed a god,” she whispered, “All I need is you.”

Her fingers settled over the veins curling up his cheek and delicately started tracing down the path towards the Orb in his chest. She pushed the cloth collar of his shirt out of the way and traced over the ring of the Orb itself before her hand settled, the tips of her fingers over the Karsite Weave and her palm over his heart. “I need the mortal man in front of me,” she confessed breathlessly, “The one with passion in his veins and devotion in his heart.”

Gale released a shuddering sigh, his eyes closing for a moment before one of his hands came up to rest over her own against his heart. “I could give you worlds, and you tell me this is enough,” he sighed, “You grace me with such words, such brilliant, exceptional joys…and most days, the mortal man before you does not feel worthy of you,” he admitted.

His tone was joking, his voice light and the small smile he gave her was playful, but she could see the lingering sadness masked in his eyes. The concern and the doubt he wasn’t enough, the fear that it would one day drive her away like it had before. They were surely the same emotions he had seen so readily reflected in her gaze countless times before. The same ones he assuaged with gentle reminders and light kisses.

She could return those easily.

“Then he needs to stop concerning himself with matters that are not his decide,” Nox said, her voice teasing to match his tone, but every word carrying nothing but sincerity. Her free hand snaked around his neck and she pulled him down for another kiss. His surprised breath fanned over her lips, and she smiled against him for a few moments before she pulled away.

“I alone determine what I am worth,” she breathed, “And I have decided that you, my dear Wizard of Waterdeep, are more than what even my wildest fantasies could ever bring to me, and are thus worth more than every last bit I could possibly give.”

She caught a flash of his beaming grin just before Gale wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair and murmuring, “And how I will wonder for the rest of my mortal time why fate decided to grant me such fortune.”