#like again One Thing to let him live but it also just so happens to play into that eternal guilt/utter powerlessness so well
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stars-obsession-pit · 2 days ago
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Danny is afraid of lots of things.
He’s afraid of failing his classes, of losing an important battle and leaving the town vulnerable, of his family and friends dying, of becoming like Dan, and countless other things.
But perhaps most of all, he’s afraid of his original family.
The League of Assassins.
When Danyal Danny first came to Amity Park, it was because of an infiltration mission. The League had questions about the area and a couple crazy scientists living within it.
But Danny also suspects it was a convenient way to get rid of him. They never said it, but he felt it. He was the spare heir, the weaker twin, the failure.
He had been ordered to send back reports periodically, but he has no idea what happens to them. Supposedly, his twin was responsible for them, an early lesson in the duties he’d need to take on as the heir. But considering how Danny never received a single response, he doubts the other boy ever read them. Or maybe he did, but he just didn’t care.
Maybe if he was even more lucky, they had forgotten him entirely.
Danny wants to be forgotten. If the League forgot him, it would mean he could stay with his family. His real family. The ones he had been sent to spy on, yet who had accepted him far more readily than his blood “family” ever had, even as he started to let them see what he really was underneath his infiltrating persona.
Every report sent back was a risk. A chance that someone would remember the heir’s brother and order him to return. Every time, he was on edge for days, weeks, after it was sent out. Nothing ever happened.
But he was too afraid to stop.
If someone was reading them and noticed it, the League might send someone to check on him. Make sure he hadn’t gone rogue or been killed by something that could threaten their organization later.
He couldn’t risk it.
So he lied, pretended he was still loyal. Every single report was sent out on time, all in the same cold tone even as he left out more and more details about his true circumstances. He would not risk his family. Even if it meant he could never let himself move on from what the League had done to him.
And then one day, those fears were realized. His eyes locked with a pair he’d prayed to never see again, and he felt himself reflexively still, wiping all traces of emotion from his expression.
Damian al Ghul. His brother.
“Danyal. Ahki. Your mission is over. I’ve come to bring you home.”
Danyal paused, staring back silently, then asked in a blank voice, “Is anyone else aware of this?”
Damian’s brows furrowed at the question. “No, I–”
Danyal lunged. He is never going back, and if he can take out Damian, he might finally be rid of the last person who would think to drag him there.
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maspers · 1 day ago
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Oh! You're asking about Outer Darkness. Let's see if I can help out. Disclaimer tho I'm just a random guy on the internet so be aware that my personal understanding of my faith could be coloring my explanation somewhat, despite my efforts not to.
First: yes, as the existence of such a place implies, we do believe in a possibility for eternal punishment. If we're talking about permanent hell, this is the place. The reason tons of LDS folks like to act like it doesn't is because 1) it sounds nicer and unfortunately people care too much about their reputations and 2) the chances of going to Outer Darkness is like. ASTRONOMICALLY small.
There's an old joke that if you ask a Mormon what happens after you die, they'll draw you a map (as opposed to a Catholic who will tell you to ask your priest and a Protestant who will tell you to ask your Bible, iirc how the joke goes). And honestly, it's true. LDS theology has its afterlife occur in multiple stages. The Spirit World is when you go where you die. But EVENTUALLY Jesus is gonna show up again (probably at the end of the apocalypse because dramatic timing) and EVERYONE is gonna get resurrected. And while the resurrecting is going on there's like a thousand years of awesomeness and getting some last-minute ordinance work done. Shenanigans ensue, everyone teams up to beat up Satan one last time (long story) and THEN and only then do we get to the Final Judgement, when it's FINALLY decided where people are going to be for eternity.
At every point BEFORE the final judgement, everything is ultimately temporary and can be forgiven or whatever because Jesus is awesome. Immortality is a guarantee for literally everyone, and even the people who DONT repent and become good people will still get a spot in a Kingdom of Glory, which even the lowest is referred to as better than anything humanity can comprehend (LDS folk don't do what they do because they want to get into Heaven, they do what they do because they want ALL THE PERKS). Getting into a Kingdom of Glory is essentially the DEFAULT.
But, at the final judgement, it IS possible for someone to do something that can never be forgiven. If you stand at the final judgement, with a perfect knowledge of EVERYTHING (because like, it's the final judgement, your entire past and the past of the UNIVERSE is laid out in front of you, you have complete understanding of what the universe is, how it works, and God's role in all of it) and then essentially give God the middle finger and say "screw you God, I hate you and deny you and everything you stand for"... He still won't send you to Outer Darkness. You have to do that to Him, AND Jesus, AND the Holy Ghost (LDS folk believe they're separate people, not a long story but not worth going into here) and basically also give literally every thing that's good the middle finger as well in the process, because ultimately everything good in the world comes back to those three. Then, and ONLY then, will you be declared a Son of Perdition (though really it should be "Child of Perdition" now, the term originates from scriptural text, obviously people who aren't male could still in theory become a Son of Perdition) and you'll go to Outer Darkness to chill with Satan and be depressed for eternity. I cannot emphasize enough that the people who go to Outer Darkness will go there of their own free will and choice, with a perfect understanding of the decision they are making. Despite what some people might tell you (and what some very stupid LDS folk might believe) Mormonism is heavily built on the concept of free will, and getting sent to Outer Darkness is no exception. You only go there if you WANT to.
And honestly, that's a REALLY stupid thing to do? The amount of people who will end up as Sons of Perdition is INSANELY small, especially compared to the amount of humans that have lived and will live. In all of scripture we only know of to meet the criteria is Cain, and he was only able to meet the criteria because of the unique circumstances at the start of Genesis, it's pretty much impossible for ANYONE to qualify during mortality, or at any other point before Judgement. Cain just is Like That I guess. (Incidentally Cain will explicitly RULE the place, because Satan is a loser and doesn't have a body so he can't be in charge). Some people claim Judas Iscariot also qualifies but that's not backed up by any scriptural or prophetic text, and frankly that idea doesn't make much sense to me.
The kicker is in theory, Outer Darkness technically isn't permanent either. If a Son of Perdition were to recant their ultimate middle finger to God and everything else, they would in theory be allowed to leave. The only reason it IS permanent is because at that point the idea of spitefully rejecting the glory of God is so engrained in their being that they will never repent. It's become their entire nature. (I'll admit this part isn't stated explicitly in scripture anywhere, for obvious reasons Outer Darkness isn't talked about much in the text, but it can be reasonably extrapolated from what we know about the nature of God and mankind based ON the text).
So TLDR: Outer Darkness is a thing in LDS theology, and so is Eternal Punishment, but the only people who go there LITERALLY ask for it. You're almost certainly not going there. Don't worry about it.
As for how this affects the LDS perception of Hell... like every religion, YMMV. Different members view things differently. Some people mistakenly believe that if you're a member of the Church and then leave or otherwise start being a bad person, you'll go to Outer Darkness. This explicitly isn't the case. But Outer Darkness as we understand it is the part of our theology that most closely resembles the traditional Christian idea of hell (though with less fire and brimstone and more just eternal self-loathing and anger), so if a Latter-Day Saint is referring to Hell as a specific place, then they're probably referring to here.
However, when an LDS person mentions Hell, they could ALSO be referring to:
Spirit Prison, where the people who didn't do All The Right Things in life go when they die. Not as bad as it sounds. Like yeah there's suffering but as we understand it it's probably like the "You feel your sins crawling up your back" thing from Undertale where you're just hating yourself because of your guilt. Regardless of if you stay here or end up transferring to Spirit Paradise, you still probably won't go to Outer Darkness. This takes place before the Judgement (long before) but since it's IMMEDIATELY after mortality it sometimes gets conflated with Hell as "bad place you go when you die"
Spiritual Death, aka what Hell as a concept MOST likely is being referred to by LDS. Literally just referring to a spiritual separation from god. Physical Death is when your body dies (oof) and Spiritual Death is when you metaphorically die by not being Christlike, and can really happen at any time. Jesus, being the awesome person He is, provides salvation from BOTH kinds of death (He breaks the "chains of death and hell") so like. Don't even worry about it. Incidentally, since literally everyone is experiencing some level of Spiritual death right now because we're designed to be flawed during mortality, we're technically all in hell right now! Yayyyyyyyyy. Again, don't worry, this is part of the process, part of the point of mortality is to fail and get back up.
So Second TLDR: Outer Darkness is generally known and understood by LDS communities, but like. We don't worry about it too much. Usually when an LDS folk talks about hell in a religious sense they're talking about the concept of (ideally temporary) Spiritual Death.
"Maspers are you going to cite your sources" No, this is tumblr and I'm lazy. the other LDS folks can back me up and correct me if I'm wrong. Peer review ftw.
seeing people discussing the concept of hell and how cruel the idea of eternal punishment is like, wow! i know this belief system you would love if not for your knee-jerk reaction against its name
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mononijikayu · 2 days ago
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don’t they know it's the end of the world (cause you don’t love me anymore) — geto suguru.
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You blinked, the knot in your chest tightening as you took in his face, his solemn expression that didn’t match the usual carefree look he wore. Was he already saying goodbye in some way? You shook your head slowly, the smile coming to your lips, though it carried a mixture of sadness and certainty. "Sugu, how could you even think about that?… I could never forget about you."  “It can happen, you know. Life happens.” He smiles in a small timid manner.   Your voice was soft, but there was no doubt in it. "No, you’re wrong. You’re the most important person in my life. How could I forget someone like you?"
GENRE: alternate universe - canon divergence;
WARNING/S: gen, afab! reader, angst, fluff, friendship, friends to lovers, eventual romance, slice of life, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, sad ending, physical touch, pet names (sugu, buttercup) mentioned character death, depression, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, internal conflict, post-hidden inventory at the end, letting go, break up, meeting each other again, depiction of childhood, depiction of romance, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, depiction of depression, mention of internal conflict, non! sorcerer reader, sorcerer! suguru;
WORD COUNT: 10k words
NOTE: im soon back at university, so im rush writing everything and so im exhausted all the time too. so if im not updating, its because im probably regretting my life decisions. though, in any case, i will still publish as much as i can. im about two/three finished with valentines fics, but im tortured by sukuna because i have a standard with him and i can't escape it. anyway, i wrote this for suguru's birthday. he would have been thirty-five today!!! i hope you enjoy this fic!!! i love you all!!! see you on the sixth!!! <3
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IF YOU COULD DESCRIBE WONDER, IT WOULD BE BEING BY SUGURU’S SIDE. No one else could understand it, you like to think. What the two of you had, it was certainly a language made for two. It was a life that was built for the purpose of being known by you both. And you like to think that he feels the same way too.
You and Suguru had been together since you were kids, bound by an unspoken connection that neither of you ever questioned. Because, there was nothing to question about it. Nor could words even describe it all. It was too unique, too intriguing. And yet, it only belonged to the two of you.
It all started on a warm afternoon at the school playground, where laughter and shrieks filled the air as children ran around in endless games of tag. It was a long while ago, and yet it felt like yesterday to you. You could feel your eyes twitching as you watched from where you stood, permeating with desire and anxiety. 
You had been standing alone for a while, just a bit near the jungle gym, watching all the kids giggle and run about, with the zeal of youth dashing along with them.
As you watched them there with eager eyes, you kept wishing you could join in too, you wished you could run amok with joy too. But that heavy weight of fear blossoms your hesitation. It held you back from a lot of things, including making friends.
Yet, why wouldn’t you feel like this? You were new in town, and you didn’t know these kids. You didn't know any life lived in this place before you had come. Everything was new for you, as much as you were sure it would also be new to them. 
How would they even react to you, knowing you aren’t a familiar face they were already comfortable seeing? How would you interact with them, anyway? It’s not like you could just jump in and smile and just jump in easily? This is a sea and if you plunge so deep, you could drown. And you didn’t want that to happen. Not here, not when you were starting a new life. 
But then, that’s when he found you.
"Why are you just standing here?" a voice asked.
You turned to see a boy with dark hair, a little messy from running around, and warm, curious eyes. He wasn’t out of breath, despite the wild chase of tag that had just ended. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his tiny shorts, and he looked at you like he was trying to figure you out.
"I….I don’t know how to approach them." you muttered, kicking at a loose pebble. "I’m not sure how to come and tell them I want to play too, so I….."
Suguru blinked, then without hesitation, he grinned and reached out a hand to you. "I see…..Then let’s play together! I don’t care if you’re slow. I’ll just run at your speed, if that would make it easier on you."
Your eyes swiftly widened, surprised by the easy kindness in his voice. "Really?"
"Yeah!" he said enthusiastically. "I’ll even let you tag me first."
That was the beginning of everything, that was certain.
During recess, the world belonged to just the two of you. You ran hand in hand across the playground, unbothered by who was faster or slower. You hummed little tunes under your breath, and he giggled at the way you always skipped a step ahead before doubling back to him. You hopped, he ran, and sometimes, in the joy of it all, you tripped over each other’s feet and tumbled into the dirt.
And if one of you scraped a knee? The other sat down beside them without hesitation. If you fell, Suguru would plop down next to you, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I’m not playing if you’re not playing. That’s just how it is!
And you would do the same for him, because what was the fun in anything if he wasn’t right there beside you?
Nothing was ever quite complete without each other.
It wasn’t a good day unless you were together.
Even as you grew older, nothing changed.
The playground turned into quiet walks home, but your hands still found each other without thinking.
"You still hold my hand like we’re kids, Sugu," you teased one afternoon, fingers laced together as you walked home. The sun hung low in the sky, spilling warm golden light over the quiet street. Your shadows stretched long behind you, linked together like a promise.
Suguru glanced down at your hands, his grip tightening just slightly. "Yeah? You don’t like it?"
You smiled, squeezing back. "I never said that, you know!"
His grin was soft but sure, a mirror of the way he had always been with you. "Good. Because you’re still my favorite person."
And really, wasn’t that all that mattered?
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IF YOUR BIRTHDAY COULD BE A HOLIDAY, SUGURU WOULD MAKE SURE OF IT. Your birthday has always been special, you know that much. But now more than ever, especially because, for as long as you could remember, Geto Suguru had been by your side for most of it. Now, it was even more special than before. 
The years blurred together in a collage of memories: the laughter, the excitement, the simple moments that felt so big when they were shared with him. There were so many pictures, pictures of the two of you, year after year.
You were always together. His presence in every single one, a steady anchor through the passing time. One that was the only constant throughout the world that keeps on changing.
Whether it was the early mornings, when you both rushed around the house, throwing together last-minute gifts for each other in the midst of the chaos of birthday preparations, or the quiet evenings spent chatting under the stars, those moments were always colored by Suguru’s unique way of making everything feel more important. 
He never treated your birthday like just another day. To him, it was an event, something that deserved to be celebrated with the utmost care. After all, it was the day you were born—the day you were with him. And to Suguru, that meant the world.
He didn’t just show up for your birthday. 
No, he took it as seriously as he would a test. 
He planned it meticulously, down to the smallest detail, as though the day had to be perfect.
"I thought you might like this, buttercup!" he’d say with a grin, always just a little too proud of whatever thoughtful gift he managed to get you, even if you’d both picked it out together the day before. "I’m pretty sure you’ll love it." 
And every time, no matter how simple the gift, the thought behind it always felt like the most meaningful gesture.
On your birthday mornings, you’d wake up to the smell of something delicious.  The pancakes, bacon, whatever it was that he knew you’d love, always cooked with that special touch that made it taste even better. He would rush in, hands full of wrapped presents, bright eyes sparkling like a child eager to see your reaction. 
"You ready?" he’d ask, bouncing on his heels.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight— Geto Suguru, the one who always had his life together, who always so composed, turned into a ball of excitement for just one day.
Even in the evenings, as the day began to fade and the sky turned dark, you would find yourselves sitting together outside, wrapped in blankets under the stars. He’d listen to you talk about the year that had passed, what had changed, what had stayed the same while you both sat in comfortable silence, the kind only the two of you shared.
"Make a wish, okay?" he’d say when it was time to blow out the candles, the way he’d always said it every year. But there was something about the way he said it then, with that little smile on his face, as if he already knew your wish without needing to hear it.
Suguru didn’t need grand gestures. For him, it was always about the little things, the way he made sure your favorite song was playing when you entered the room, the way he’d insist on carrying your cake even though it was ridiculously heavy, the way he refused to let anyone else help you with the birthday prep, because it was his job to make sure everything was just right for you.
And he didn’t think it was just about the day itself. To Suguru, your birthday wasn’t just a celebration of your life; it was a reminder that you existed, that you were here, and that the world—his world—was just a little bit brighter because you were in it.
Every year, as he gave you your gift, no matter how big or small, you could always see that gleam in his eyes. The beautiful gleam that said. "This is important. This is you, this is us, and I’m going to make sure you feel special, because you are."
For Suguru, your birthday wasn’t just another day in the calendar. It was the day you were born—his day to remind you just how much you meant to him, and to celebrate the fact that, all these years later, you were still by his side. 
And when you looked back at all the memories, all those years of birthdays spent with him, you couldn’t help but smile. They weren’t just your birthdays, they were his to celebrate too.
He celebrated them just as fiercely, just as passionately, as if it were his own day to remember. Because, to Suguru, every birthday spent together was a blessing. And he never took that for granted.
But this year, it felt different.
Not because of the cake or the candles. Not because of the way your friends sang off-key, their voices melding into a perfect disaster. No, this year was different because, when the party had quieted down and the night was winding to a close, Suguru handed you a small, neatly wrapped box.
He was sitting beside you on the couch, his beautiful lilac eyes watching you closely as you held the box in your hands, the soft rustle of paper the only sound between you. You could only look at the beautiful box in front of you for the longest time. He clears his throat.
“Are you really not saying anything?”
You looked at him suspiciously, fingers hesitating over the ribbon. "You didn’t have to get me anything, Sugu."
"I wanted to, buttercup." he said simply, nudging the box closer. "Go on, open it."
So you did.
Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, the light catching on the fine chain, making it shimmer. But what caught your attention was the tiny charm hanging from it—a miniature book, small enough to rest in the center of your palm, its metal etched with tiny details that made it look like it had real pages inside.
You blinked up at him, surprise evident in your expression. "Sugu…"
He looked uncharacteristically shy, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s nothing fancy, but… I thought it’d be nice. Y’know, for us."
"For us?" you repeated, tracing your fingers over the book charm.
Suguru nodded, watching your reaction closely. "Yeah. Because we always read together. Because of all those afternoons spent sharing a book, arguing over who gets to turn the page first—"
"You always turn the page too fast, you know." you interrupted with a pout.
"And you always get distracted by random things in the margins, buttercup." he shot back, smirking. “We’re both not good at it.”
You huffed. "That’s called appreciating the details, Suguru."
"Sure, sure." he laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, that’s the first one."
You tilted your head. "First?"
He reached over, taking your wrist gently in his hands as he fastened the bracelet around it, his touch careful, warm. "Every birthday from now on, I’m giving you a charm. One for each year. Something that means something to us."
Your breath caught for a moment.
"You’re serious?" you asked, looking up at him.
Suguru met your gaze, his expression unwavering. "Completely." Then, with a lopsided grin, he added. "You’re stuck with me for a long time, you know."
You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. Everything about you just felt warm, especially when you looked at it, knowing he put a lot of thought on this beautiful present. The bracelet felt light on your wrist, but the promise it carried felt heavier. This was solid, real, unshakable. Just like your relationship with him, ironclad for all your lives.
"Good." you said, squeezing his hand before letting go. "Because I wouldn’t want it any other way."
And back then, with Geto Suguru beside you, his promise wrapped around your wrist and his warmth wrapped around your heart, you believed it.
You really, really did.
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ALL BIRTHDAYS ARE HAPPY, WELL THEY SHOULD BE. But this morning, this birthday of yours, it was not something that just truly felt odd. You had tried to put it off, knowing that it wasn’t the right place or time to talk about it. You could feel it, you know you do. Something was wrong with your best friend. 
Geto Suguru had been unusually quiet all day, even when he was trying to be casual and jolly, smiling at you. But you knew there was something going on and you couldn't put your finger on why. The excitement of the day had dulled a little, as the two of you moved through the motions of cake and presents, but something in the air felt different.
It wasn’t until later that afternoon when everything changed.
You had walked him to the train station, like you always did, ever since he moved to another part of the city. Though this time, there was an unspoken weight that drowned between you, a heaviness that neither of you could shake. Geto Suguru, usually so confident and carefree, seemed distant, his usual smile a little more strained.
"I got in." he said, as the train pulled up to the station, his voice barely above a whisper, yet somehow carrying the weight of his words.
You paused, unsure of what he meant at first. "Got in?"
He nodded, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment before meeting your gaze. "To Jujutsu High School. I’m going to Tokyo."
Your heart skipped, the reality of the situation sinking in like ice water. 
He was going to leave you, you were going to be separated. 
Your Suguru was heading to Tokyo to train, on the other side of your world.
For the first time in years, you wouldn’t be by each other’s side every day. The thought was almost impossible to process. Not when you had been together for so long, just being bubbles in each other’s circle. Your lips parted, you wanted to say something. But you didn’t know what. You were too stunned to speak. 
"Wait, you’re leaving? When?" you whispered, your voice suddenly became small. 
“Tomorrow.” He whispered, his tone almost blossoming with shame. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t….I didn’t want to ruin the time and I didn't think it was going to come any time soon, but it just….”
"But… but today’s my birthday, Sugu."
Suguru gave you a sad smile, his hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. "I know. I’m sorry. But it’s not goodbye forever, okay? We’ll keep in touch, I promise."
You nodded, but the lump in your throat made it hard to speak. Suguru was your rock, your constant. The thought of him being so far away, in a completely different city, felt like the world was shifting beneath your feet.
He took a step closer to you, lowering his voice. "I didn’t want to leave without giving you something special." He pulled out a small box from his pocket, holding it out to you. 
You took it from his warm hands, your eyes brimming with questions. When you opened it, a soft gasp escaped your lips. Inside was a new charm for your bracelet—a delicate purple colored buttercup, its petals etched with such fine detail that it looked almost real. It was beautiful. And soulful. Almost glistening as brightly as his eyes.
He smiled gently, a warmth in his eyes as he slipped the charm onto your bracelet. "It’s a buttercup," he said softly. "My nickname for you. So I thought…I thought it would be perfect."
You stared at the charm for a moment, the lump in your throat thickening. "You still call me that…"
Suguru’s smile grew tender. "Always will. And whenever you look at it, I want you to think of me, okay? Think of me often."
You blinked away the tears threatening to spill and smiled back at him. "I will, Sugu. I promise."
He pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close for just a moment longer than usual. "Take care of yourself, alright? And don’t forget—I’m just a train ride away. Osaka is not that far. So when you need me, call me. Okay?"
“Okay.” You squeezed him back, trying to imprint the moment into your memory, trying to hold onto the feeling of him next to you. "I won’t forget. I’ll think of you every day."
Suguru pulled away slowly, his fingers brushing the side of your face. "I know you will."
The train’s loud engine roared to brutish life, and the sound of the wheels on the tracks made your chest tighten even further. You watched Suguru stand by the window.
His beautiful face illuminated by the soft afternoon light as the train slowly started to pull away. Your feet felt rooted to the ground, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, things you didn’t know how to say.
But before you could stop yourself, something inside you snapped. You took a step forward, then another, and then you were running, your heart pounding heavily in your chest, your breath coming faster as you pushed yourself harder, faster, chasing the train like you could somehow outrun the fear that gripped your heart.
"Suguru!" you called out, your voice shaking, but loud enough for him to hear.
He turned around in surprise, his eyes wide as he saw you running toward him. The train was moving faster now, but he didn’t hesitate. You could see how his face lit up with a mix of disbelief and hope, his hand pressed against the window.
"Sugu!" you shouted again, your heart racing even harder, your legs moving as if they had a will of their own. The distance between you seemed so large, but you weren’t going to stop.
He leaned closer to the window, his hand now reaching out, as if trying to touch you through the glass. You could see the concern on his face, his bright lilac eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but it made you move faster, faster than you thought you could.
When you finally reached the side of the train, you stopped just short of losing your breath. You pressed your hands to your chest, feeling your heart pounding, and you looked up at him, eyes shining.
"I love you, Suguru!" you blurted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Geto Suguru froze, his eyes wide in astonishment, as though he hadn’t expected you to say it—that particular thing, not now, not like this. You watched him, your heart hanging in the air between you, waiting for his reaction, wondering if you had made a mistake.
But then, his expression softened, and a smile broke through the surprise. It wasn’t just a smile you see. It was his smile, that beautiful smile that only belonged to you. The one that made everything feel like it would be okay, no matter what. He nodded slowly, a little chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned closer to the window, as if pulling you in even from a distance.
"I love you too, buttercup!" he said, his voice full of warmth, his eyes soft but certain.
And just like that, everything that had felt so heavy was lifted, the weight of the unspoken tension, the distance between you, all of it faded into the background of that moment. You smiled back at him, breathless but relieved, and the world around you seemed to slow down.
The train started to pick up speed again, and Suguru gave you one last look, his smile still lingering as he waved.
"Take care of yourself, okay?" he called out, his voice carrying over the noise of the train.
"I will!" you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "I’ll always think of you."
And with that, the train pulled away, leaving you standing there, heart full, the buttercup charm on your bracelet gleaming softly in the fading light. 
That train carried your heart with him.
But you were sure that you held his heart here too.
You looked at your buttercup charm, smiling.
“Come back to me soon, okay?”
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THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT HOW MUCH HE HAD CHANGED. And all he could do was wish that you didn’t see it, that you would never find out the truth. All he could pray for was that you didn’t notice the light in his eyes dying or the bitterness of the taste from the curses he was forced to consume still on his tongue.  
Geto Suguru has always been a powerful force of nature, a rock withstanding everything in his way. In a way, he was also your rock, your steady presence in your life. No matter what was happening around him, he was there, unwavering, holding everything together with that quiet strength of his. 
But recently, something in him had started to shift. Something he wasn’t prepared to admit to just yet. Ever since Amanai Riko’s death, the change had been subtle at first, there were those small signs that he was struggling, pulling away just a little more each day. But now, as the days passed, it became harder to ignore.
Geto Suguru was slipping.
And he didn’t know how to stop it.
He didn’t know how to be more than this.
He didn’t know the way out of it.
He found himself lost in a fog of thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate, his emotions tangled in a web he couldn't find a way out of. The burden of loss weighed heavily on him, crushing him in ways he didn’t know how to handle. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let you see it. Not today. Not on your birthday. Not on your last day together.
He had made it a point, from the moment you walked into the room, to be the Suguru you knew. He plastered on that familiar smile, spoke to you like everything was fine, and made sure the day went on like any other. 
But the moment you looked away, or when you laughed, or when he caught you looking at him with that softness in your eyes, a heaviness settled deep in his chest. He wanted to say something, to tell you what was really happening, but the words felt like they were caught in his throat, unable to escape.
You had no idea what he was battling inside.
And he couldn’t bear to burden you with it—not on your special day.
It was the evening, the sun sinking low in the sky, and you both sat together on the balcony of his apartment, watching the colors in the sky shift from gold to deep blue. The breeze was warm, and you had your head resting on his shoulder, the same way you had for years. You both sat there in a comfortable silence, but Suguru’s mind was anywhere but there.
"I’m really glad we could spend the day together, Sugu." you said softly, your voice like a melody that brought him back to the present. “Thank you for coming to visit me, even with your busy schedule.”
Suguru nodded, his smile barely there as he kept his gaze on the horizon, afraid if he looked at you too long, you would see the cracks he was trying to hide. "Me too, buttercup." he said, but even to his own ears, the words didn’t sound right. They didn’t carry the weight they should have.
You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, the way he wasn’t fully present. He wasn’t the Geto Suguru you knew, the Sugu who would always make you laugh, who would hold you close and whisper silly things to keep your spirits high. He was distant, almost like a shadow of himself. And you knew he hated it, even without saying it to you.
"Sugu." you said quietly, sitting up to look at him, your hand gently touching his arm. "You okay?"
Suguru flinched, the question catching him off guard. He gave a small, forced laugh, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess. I’ve….been very busy."
But you didn’t buy it. You knew him better than anyone else, and you could see the lie in his eyes. But he wasn’t ready to talk, not now, not on the day that was meant to be yours, not on the day that he wanted to protect you from his own chaos. He didn’t want you to see him like this, not when everything was supposed to be perfect.
He wanted to be strong for you, wanted to be the Geto Suguru you deserved, the Geto Suguru that you love, the Geto Suguru you knew. But the weight of the world felt like it was crushing him from the inside, and he didn’t know how to hold it together anymore. 
You reached up to touch his cheek, the gesture so simple but full of the warmth you had always shared. "Sugu… you don’t have to hide from me. Not now. Not ever."
He froze at your touch, his lilac eyes shutting softly, even for just a brief second. He wanted to let it all go, wanted to break down in front of you, but he couldn’t. Not like this. Not today. He swallowed hard, the words choking him before he could even say them.
"I’m fine." he repeated, but there was no conviction in his voice. “Really, buttercup. Don’t worry so much about me, okay?”
You didn’t push him further, but the sadness in his once bright eyes told you everything you needed to know. He was breaking inside, but he didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want to talk about it just yet. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. And especially not on your last day together.
"Okay." you whispered softly, leaning back against his shoulder once more, both of you falling into silence again.
But Geto Suguru knew. He knew that you would always see through him. And as you sat there, so close, yet so far from what was really happening, he couldn’t help but feel like he was losing grip on everything. He thought he was losing himself, you, on the life you had dreamed of sharing.
And so, the night passed in a quiet sadness, Suguru’s heart heavy with emotions he couldn’t quite express. Tomorrow, he will leave. Tomorrow, everything will change. He knew that all too well. By sunrise, you wouldn’t recognize him anymore. By sunrise, he wouldn’t be your Sugu anymore. 
But for tonight, he would hold onto this—hold onto you, and pretend that everything was okay, just for a little while longer. He thinks he could pretend one last time and keep you with him, enjoying the need of warmth that only you could understand.
The evening air was still, the world outside quieting as the stars began to prick the darkening sky. You sat together for a little while, as you waited for the train to come. Geto Suguru’s silence was heavy, but there was a soft, almost palpable tenderness in the way he was beside you. It was always that way, when he was beside you. Even when you were kids.
But the silence was a new thing. This silence was so loud, and yet so deafening. Yet you also didn’t bridge the gap. At least not tonight. He didn’t need it right now and you can tell. You just took a deep breath and waited, staring off the train tracks. 
Your Suguru seemed lost in his own thoughts, his calloused fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the railing in front of you, his lilac gaze ever so lost in the faraway space. To the place you could not follow.
But you knew it was just his way of trying to hold everything in. Then, after a moment that felt like eternity, he broke the quiet, his voice soft but steady, like he was trying to make it sound casual when it wasn’t. 
"I got you something, buttercup." he said, his hand reaching into his pocket. You looked up at him, noticing the faintest tremor in his fingers, but you didn't comment on it.
He pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box, offering it to you with a look that was a mix of hesitation and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words. "I know it’s not much, but I wanted to give you something… meaningful. Like always."
You took the box from him, your little heart fluttering a little in anticipation, not knowing what to expect. Slowly, you unwrapped it with much care, your tender fingers gently peeling back the layers until you saw what was inside.
It was a charm, delicate and beautiful, with a tiny forget-me-not flower carved into its surface. The petals were soft, yet detailed, their edges just slightly raised as if to give them life, to make them feel real. The forget-me-not. It was simple but meaningful, and somehow, it felt like it held everything unsaid between you two in one small, fragile flower.
Suguru’s voice broke the moment, barely above a whisper, but heavy with emotion. "I want you to always remember me, buttercup." he said, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t place. "No matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, never forget about me."
You froze for a heartbeat, confusion washing over you at his words. Never forget about him?
The thought didn’t make sense. Geto Suguru was more than just a memory; he was the person who had shaped so much of your life, the one who had been there for you through everything. He was your everything. How could you forget him?
You blinked, the knot in your chest tightening as you took in his face, his solemn expression that didn’t match the usual carefree look he wore. Was he already saying goodbye in some way?
You shook your head slowly, the smile coming to your lips, though it carried a mixture of sadness and certainty. "Sugu, how could you even think about that?… I could never forget about you." 
“It can happen, you know. Life happens.” He smiles in a small timid manner.  
Your voice was soft, but there was no doubt in it. "No, you’re wrong. You’re the most important person in my life. How could I forget someone like you?"
Suguru’s lilac eyes softened at your words, the weight of the moment easing just a little as you spoke. His chapped lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something more, but he only let out a quiet, relieved breath, his shoulders relaxing for the first time that evening.
He reached out, gently placing the forget-me-not charm on your bracelet, his fingers lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. "I just… I need to know you’ll always remember. Even when we’re apart.”
"I will, I promise." you said, your voice firm, the sincerity in your words reaching the deepest parts of him. "I’ll always think of you. Every single day, every single hour. Even the seconds. I’ll always remember you, Suguru. You’re too important to forget."
“Is that so?”
You hummed, smiling at him. “Hm. Because I love you.”
For a brief, tender moment, Suguru’s eyes seemed to shine with something that wasn’t just sadness but relief. It was as if the weight of the unspoken fears, the guilt, and the pain he’d been carrying had finally started to lift, just a little. He smiled, a real, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes.
"Good," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "That’s all I need to hear."
And there, under the stars, with the sound of the world fading into a quiet lull, you both sat together. You didn’t need words to fill the silence that had settled between you. The charm on your bracelet was a promise, a symbol of everything you had been through, everything you had shared, and everything that was still to come.
"I love you too, buttercup." Suguru whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but the words carried so much weight, so much meaning that it felt like the whole world had shifted in that instant.
You didn’t hesitate, not for a second. "I know, Sugu. I know." you replied, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips, a smile that only he could make appear. 
It was a statement, but one that wasn’t born out of arrogance. It was the truth. The truth that had been there all along, between the quiet moments, the shared laughter, the years of growing together. He was your constant, just as you were his.
And you had always known, known in the very marrow of your bones.
he loved you too. More than anything in life. More than the universe could know.
Suguru didn’t immediately respond. He simply stared at you, his gaze softening with an intensity that almost made it hard to breathe. He shifted closer, his hands rising slowly, as if afraid that if he moved too fast, you would vanish in an instant. His fingers brushed against the curve of your jaw before they settled on your cheeks, warm and grounding.
His touch was gentle, the weight of his hands steady against your skin, as though he was afraid to touch you too hard, afraid that any sudden movement would make you slip through his fingers.
His gaze never wavered from your face, and for a long moment, it was like the world faded away. There was nothing but the two of you, him, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his presence, and you, feeling like the universe had shrunk to this moment.
Suguru’s eyes searched for yours, his expression both tender and filled with something deeper, something that only someone who had loved you for so long could understand. It was as though he was memorizing every detail of you.
The way the light caught in your eyes, the curve of your lips, the soft flutter of your lashes when you blinked. He took in your features like he was afraid they would slip away, like time was running out and he couldn’t afford to miss a single second of it.
His thumb traced the outline of your cheekbone, the movement so soft it almost tickled, but it was full of reverence. As if you were something sacred to him, something irreplaceable. As if you were the most important pearl of the world, shining in front of him, making him your sea. 
"You’re so beautiful, buttercup." he whispered, and the words held so much more than just a compliment. It was the way he said them, as if he had seen every side of you—your strengths, your flaws, your heart—and still, in every corner of it, you were beautiful to him. 
The simplicity of the words took your breath away, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You just looked at him, feeling the weight of his love like a gentle embrace, like it wrapped around your heart, holding it safe in his hands.
You didn’t need to speak to feel the truth of it all. This moment, this space between you, felt like the entire universe had conspired to bring you to this point, where everything you had shared and everything you had yet to share hung in the balance of this silent exchange.
Suguru leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the way his body was still, but there was a pulse of something deep inside him, something he wasn’t fully ready to let go of, not yet. And in that breathless, delicate space, you let your own heart speak.
"I love you, Sugu." you whispered back, your voice trembling just slightly, but filled with a certainty that made everything else fade into the background.
His hands cupped your face a little tighter, his thumbs stroking the soft skin of your cheeks as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world. "I’ll never forget you, buttercup." he murmured, almost as if he was saying it to himself, but you heard it. “You’re everything I am. Everything I breathe.”
The weight of it hung in the air, and though his words were bittersweet, you felt a flicker of hope in them.
"I’ll never forget you either." you whispered, your voice steady and sure, despite the turmoil swirling within you.
Because you knew that no matter where life took you both, Suguru would always be a part of you. No amount of time or distance could change that. “You’re my everything too.”
You leaned into his touch, your foreheads pressing gently together, the warmth of his hands grounding you both in the moment. His lilac eyes closed for a beat, a soft sigh escaping him as if he, too, was trying to hold on to this feeling, trying to commit it to memory just as you were.
And for that brief moment, there was no goodbye. There was only the now, the shared stillness, the love between you both, wrapped up in the quiet understanding that no matter what happened, you would always carry each other with you.
He moved his face closer, his lips brushing softly against your forehead. The kiss was light, like a promise, a silent vow that this love, this sacred bond between the two of you, it would never truly be broken, no matter the miles between you.
Suguru’s lips linger on your forehead for a moment longer, a soft, lingering warmth that makes everything else feel distant, as if time had slowed down just for the two of you.
The world outside the station, the sound of the train tracks, the noises of the city, the ticking of the clock, everything seemed muted, fading into the background as you both existed in this fragile, perfect bubble of quiet.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but laden with an unspoken weight. He looked like he wanted to say something more, something important, but the words never quite formed. 
Instead, he just studied your face, as if he was trying to memorize everything about you. Every little memory of you, your bright expression, the way your long hair fell around your face, the way your eyes held a kindness that had always been there, even in the most difficult of times.
“I’ll miss you.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, a subtle crack breaking through the calm facade he’d been trying so hard to maintain.
You nodded, your heart aching as his words sank in. The truth was, you would miss him too, more than you could ever put into words. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like without him so close, without his constant presence to steady you.
The thought of the distance between you both made the space around you feel colder, as though the warmth of his touch was already slipping through your fingers.
“I’ll miss you too, Sugu. More than you know.” you whispered back, the truth of it making your voice tremble just slightly.
He smiled, a sad, bittersweet thing, his thumb tracing the outline of your jaw once more, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment.
"Just remember, buttercup." he murmured, his eyes soft but intense. "No matter where we are, no matter how far apart we get, I’ll always be with you. I’ll always be there, in everything we’ve shared."
"I know." you said, nodding again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And I’ll always carry a piece of you with me. In my heart.”
Geto Suguru’s breath caught at your words, his eyes glistening as if he wanted to say something more, but the emotion was too much, too overwhelming. Instead, he just leaned in and kissed your forehead once more, gentle but full of all the feelings he couldn’t quite express.
“I’ll be waiting, buttercup.” he whispered, his voice low, but there was a fierce determination behind it. “No matter how long it takes. I’ll be waiting for you.”
You looked up at him, your heart full, eyes brimming with something that could have been tears if you let it. You didn’t speak for a moment, just held his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle into you like a warm, comforting blanket.
Finally, you smiled through the lump in your throat, the quiet sadness blending with something softer, something hopeful. "I’ll come back to you, Sugu. I promise. So come back to me too, okay?"
The words hung between you, a promise sealed in the silence that followed. 
He can’t promise something like that to you, not like this now. 
By sunrise, he can no longer come back to you, never again.
And yet, he still does, he lets this promise be unfulfilled.
He lets this moment be a little white lie to keep your smile.
Suguru nodded, a small, hopeful smile on his lips, but his eyes, those dark, familiar eyes, held a quiet ache. He didn’t say anything else, just stayed close, his hand still on your cheek, his presence steady even though the moment was winding down. The night was still, and it felt like time was slipping away too fast.
“I should go, buttercup.” Suguru said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "But I’ll see you again, right? You’ll visit me when you can, won’t you?"
You nodded, already knowing how much this meant to him. You smiled tenderly at him, you smiled at him like you loved him. You smiled at him like he deserves to have it. And yet he doesn’t. The devil does not deserve such a thing.
"Of course I will." you reassured him, reaching up to touch his hand, the one that had stayed on your cheek. "I won’t let you forget about me."
His smile grew just a little, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a glimmer of peace in his eyes. "I could never forget about you."
And with that, he gave you one last kiss on the forehead, light and full of everything unsaid, full of everything you would carry with you in your heart. He pulled back slowly, his hand slipping from your cheek to your hand.
His fingers lingering for a moment longer, as though reluctant to let go. Then, with a final, lingering look, he turned and made his way toward the door. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want this to be the last time. But he had to. He had to go.
He let himself step into it, the door closing softly behind him. For a moment, you felt the weight of the world shift. The quiet that followed his departure felt louder than any noise, and yet, somehow, you knew you’d be okay. You’d carry him with you, just like you promised.
The night grew darker, but the small forget-me-not charm on your bracelet caught the light, reminding you of everything you had shared. It was more than just a memory, it was a piece of him that you could hold on to, no matter where life took you both.
Geto Suguru was always going to be a part of you. And no matter the distance, no matter how much time passed, you would never forget him. He was the most important part of your life, and that would never change.
Two days later, you got the call.
He had gone missing, his parents were gone.
And you?
You had lost the love of your life.
That was his goodbye.
══════════════════
epilogue
A LONG TIME HAD COME AND GONE, BUT IT STILL FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY. Seven years had passed since Geto Suguru’s defection from the jujutsu society, since the time he turned away from everything he once held dear. Time had blurred the edges of the past for everyone except him. 
He had tried to move on, he knew he had to. He had all but tried to bury his memories deep enough so that they no longer haunted him. But there were days when everything came rushing back to him.
The horror on his parents faces that night, their deaths at his own hands, the ones he had betrayed, the village consumed by blue flame. And then there was you, the love he had lost and left. The one he had let go and fly away.
From the shadows, Suguru watched you kneel before the graves, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet cemetery. You were gentle with the flowers, your movements soft as you arranged the bouquets on the gravestones, your fingers careful as they brushed away the dust that had accumulated over time. 
He had never imagined, in his darkest moments, that he would see you here—so close, yet so far away from everything he had become. But there you were, tending to the graves of the parents he had killed, as if it was something he had never been able to do. You were doing it for him, in a way, even though you didn’t have to.
He had heard the stories about it all. He had to keep his tabs on you, he just couldn’t stay away, even now. Throughout the years, he heard whispers of how you had married, how you had continued on without him, a life of your own.
He had known that it was bound to happen, but it didn’t make it any easier. To see you with a ring on your finger, a life that no longer had a place for him, a life that had moved on while he stayed stuck in his past.
The soft rustle of the wind moved through the trees, and that was when you turned your head, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. You blinked, as if you weren’t quite sure you were seeing him, but then there was no mistaking it.
Geto Suguru was standing there, just outside the cemetery gate, watching you with that same quiet intensity that had always been his. The world seemed to hold its breath as you slowly rose to your feet, the weight of his gaze pulling you in.
He didn’t speak at first, not knowing what to say. 
After all this time, what was there left to say?
He had left you and you had suffered.
What could someone who broke their promise say?
You walked toward him, your expression unreadable but steady, your steps purposeful. As you got closer, he noticed the glint of sunlight on your finger, and his breath hitched before he could stop himself. The wedding ring.
It was a beautiful thing, one could say. But when he looked at it, it was all but a bitter ugly, disgusting thing. It was a reminder of the life you had. A life he had never been a part of, a life he had given up on when he made the choices he did. 
You stopped in front of him, your gaze unwavering. You looked at him for a long moment, your eyes searching his face, almost as if you were still trying to figure him out after all this time. "I didn’t think you’d come back here." you said quietly, your voice thick with something he couldn’t place. Maybe it was sorrow. Maybe it was a relief.
Suguru felt a pang in his chest, but he swallowed it down. "I didn’t think I would either." His voice was rough, almost foreign to him after so many years of silence, but the words still carried weight. "But... here I am."
Your gaze flickered to the bracelet on your wrist—the one with the forget-me-not, the buttercup, the book charm. It was a silent progression that told a story. A long forgotten story, one that only you and him could remember. It was at one point his story. His presence, his absence, his love. And now it wasn’t. Not anymore.
That Geto Suguru is dead.
All that remains is an imposter.
All that remains is a devil.
"I never took it off." you said, a small, sad smile playing at the corner of your lips. "You told me to never forget you. I thought I would, after all these years... but I never could." 
Your fingers traced the charms lightly, the memory of the years that had passed between you both lingering in the air like a ghost. "I couldn’t take it off, Suguru. Not even when it felt like I should."
He couldn’t quite hide the sadness that flickered in his eyes at your words, but he didn’t look away. He had been the one to leave. He had been the one to make all the wrong decisions, and yet, somehow, you had never given up on him. You had never completely forgotten him.
Suguru reached into his pocket slowly, his movements deliberate, as though he were unsure of his next step. He pulled out a small charm, delicate and beautiful, white chrysanthemums this time, it was an offering of something new, something that said goodbye and hello being said like it was the same word.  He held it out to you, his eyes never leaving yours. 
"For you." he whispered, his voice barely audible, but full of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. "I know it’s too late. But I want you to have it."
You took it from him, your fingers brushing against his for just a heartbeat before you looked down at the charm in your palm. The white chrysanthemums were soft, intricate, and they reminded you of the fleeting nature of everything. It was full of the memories, the love, the pain.
You smiled, a bittersweet curve of your lips, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions that you had long buried. "Sugu….Suguru." you began, your voice steady but thick with something he could almost taste. "For so long, TYou wanted to be remembered. But now... you want to be forgotten."
His heart clenched at your words, but he nodded slowly, as if he had already known, as if it was something he could never change. "You deserve better than to remember a ghost of someone long gone, buttercup." he said, his voice soft but full of the kind of finality that only a ghost could understand. "You deserve a life that’s yours, not one haunted by me."
The distance between you seemed so vast in that moment, even though you were standing right in front of him. The years had stretched that gap wide, and yet, in this final moment, you both understood each other completely. 
You stood there, the weight of his words heavy between you both, as the space around you seemed to quiet. The cool breeze rustled the trees, the only sound in the air, but even it felt like a distant whisper against the rawness of the moment.
You opened your mouth, a million things on the tip of your tongue, but none of them felt right. Your heart was full of so much you couldn’t put into words. A thousand emotions flooded your chest/
And yet, you felt an aching kind of clarity in his request. You hadn’t expected it. You hadn’t expected him to say those words, to say that he wanted you to forget him. To leave him behind as if he were nothing more than a faded memory.
He stood before you, his back slightly turned, but he didn’t move away. His eyes, those dark, familiar eyes, were locked onto the distance, as though he was already gone in his mind, already on his way to somewhere far from this place, from you.
You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering over his face, trying to catch any hint of a smile, of the warmth that had once been there between you both. But it was gone. Everything had long perished to nothing.
The man in front of you wasn’t the same person you had known all those years ago, and deep down, you knew that neither were you. You had both changed, time had done its work, and the world had swept you in different directions.
"So, if I see you again—" you started, unsure of where to take the conversation, unsure of whether there even was a conversation left to have.
Suguru’s smile was sad, almost imperceptible, but it was there, and it tugged at your heart more than anything else. “Pass by, buttercup.” he said, his voice so soft, so worn. "Don’t look at me. You shouldn’t remember me. Just...."
Let me go. He thinks to himself. Don't love me again.
The simplicity of his request hit you harder than any words of anger or resentment could have. You shouldn’t remember me. He was asking you, begging you, to forget him. As though he was a shadow, a passing thing, unworthy of your attention, of your love, of your memories.
For a moment, you just stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind spinning with the weight of it all. You wanted to shout, to argue, to tell him that he was wrong—that you couldn’t just erase him from your life like he was nothing.
But the silence in the air, the finality in his tone, made you hesitate. It wasn’t anger you heard in his voice. It wasn’t even regret. It was something else entirely. it was something deeper, something rooted in the pain he had carried all these years.
“I can’t just forget you.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The truth was raw and simple, and it echoed in your chest as it passed through your lips. "I’ve carried you with me for so long, Suguru. I can’t just erase you from my life."
Suguru turned his head slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t guilt or anger, but something quieter, something softer, as though he was bracing himself for the weight of what he had just asked you to do.
"You don’t need to carry me anymore." he said, his voice barely audible, each word dragging with the weight of a thousand regrets. "I don’t deserve to be remembered. Not by you. Not by anyone. I’ve become someone else, someone I never meant to be." 
His eyes drifted to the ground, and for a moment, he looked almost... defeated. "I hurt too many people, and in the end, I hurt you too."
Those words hung in the air like a star waiting to fall from the sky but they didn’t sting, nor did they cause you any pain. Instead, they felt like the closing of a door, the end of a chapter that had been written in too much pain. You felt your heart ache, but you understood. You had mourned it long ago and this was just the end. The final bow.
You understood because, deep down, you had always known this moment would come. You had always known that one day, Geto Suguru would fade from your life, not because of time or distance, but because he had made himself into something unrecognizable.
You stepped closer, closer than you had been in so many years, the distance between you two now defined not by physical space but by something more profound, something that time had created. Your hand reached out but you stopped. You had to. You knew you can't do this. You purse your lips into a flat line. 
“I see.” You whispered, barely audible over the deafening silence between you. It was as if the world had swallowed your words before they could reach him, and the weight of it all pressed down on your chest like a heavy fog.
"I'm sorry." you murmured, feeling the familiar sting of regret in your heart. 
But the words felt useless now, just as they always had when it came to him. Too many apologies, too many unanswered questions. It was all too late. Geto Suguru shook his head ever so slightly, his dark lilac eyes never leaving the distance beyond you, his voice low but firm. 
“Don’t apologize to me.” he murmured, the edges of his words soft but carrying a weight that made your heart ache. "I should apologize…"
His eyes finally met yours, and for that brief moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded that he had never allowed anyone to see.
“Buttercup, I’m letting your hand go.” he said, and his voice cracked on the last word, like it pained him to even say it.
You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill, but you fought them back, the lump in your throat making it harder to breathe. It was too much. Too much to lose, too much to let go of. 
“I know.” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as if saying it out loud would make it all more real. The finality of his words clung to the air, and you wished you could take them back, take him back, but the truth had already been laid bare.
“Goodbye, buttercup.” he said, the words both tender and final, and they fell like a stone into the abyss between you.
“Good… good-bye, Suguru.” you managed to choke out, your voice shaking but steady enough to carry the weight of the moment. Your lips trembled, but you didn’t dare look away from him. There was nothing more to say, nothing more that could fix the pieces that had been shattered between you two.
Geto Suguru gave you one last look. It was so brief, so fleeting, like the last ray of light before the darkness settled in. His gaze lingered on you, a final connection between two souls that had once shared everything but now, they were a thousand miles apart. 
He didn’t say anything else. 
He didn’t look back, not once. 
He simply turned, his figure growing smaller and smaller as he walked away.
Your heart tightened, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. There was no running after him anymore. He had already made his choice, and you had to respect that, even though it felt like a piece of you was being torn away with every step he took. 
His footsteps were quiet against the earth, a soft rhythm that carried him further into the distance, further away from you, from everything you had ever known. And you stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to make sense of the emptiness that filled the space where his presence used to be. 
You watched him disappear into the horizon, the last connection between you both unraveling like a thread slipping through your fingers. But this time, you didn’t chase after him. You didn’t need to. You didn’t have the strength anymore. 
There were no more promises, no more hopes of reunion. This was the end of the story that had once been yours, the final chapter in a love that had burned so brightly but had faded into the past. The world had changed, and so had you.
You would never see him again. He would never hold your hand again, never smile that gentle smile that had always made you feel like you were home. And you could feel the weight of that truth pressing down on you, but it didn’t break you.
It was the end of that world. Of the two of you, of the way you had been, of everything that once felt like it was meant to be. And so, you let go. You let go, even as it hurt, even as it felt like the most impossible thing in the world.
You couldn’t love him anymore. Not like you used to. Not in the way that kept him a part of your every thought, every moment. You couldn’t carry that burden with you forever, and you couldn’t make him stay.
As he disappeared completely from sight, you finally exhaled the breath you’d been holding, a quiet sigh that seemed to carry away the remnants of him still lingering in your chest. It wasn’t easy. It would never be easy. But it was the only way forward.
You took a slow step back, your feet heavy with the weight of all the years you had spent loving him. You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew one thing for certain. You had to let him, or you'll both suffer more.
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hitlikehammers · 17 hours ago
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strongly worded letter 💌
or: Eddie Munson’s long, weird road out of (the) hell(-side down) ☠️ and into love💗
rating: t ♥️ tags: post-S4, steve’s one-man search-and-rescue for eddie’s not-dead body, falling in love, fluff in surprising places, eddie’s chaotic internal monologue, alphabet magnets🧲 for the win ♥️
for @steddielovemonth day four: "I had not intended to love him. [...] He made me love him without looking at me." —Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
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To the external, uninitiated observer, Eddie is well aware his take on all of this will 100% appear both unhinged and as least vaguely self-destructive, bordering on suicidal.
But here’s the thing: if Eddie had been truly suicidal, the million times he could have just stood and let the mobs take him—bigots or mutant bats or a lichy-ballsac that made people float—he wouldn’t have even bothered fighting. Maybe he was questionably attached to self-preservation, but actively wanting to pack it in? Even the thought of sparing his poor uncle his bullshit—finally—hadn’t been a sweet enough deal. Nope: Eddie is selfishly attached to the whole living thing.
Which is why he is begging for it to be understood, in no uncertain terms:
He’d rather know for sure that he was dead in the endless, silent grey hellscape he’s been left in, than wandering in this half-formless, half-collapsing nothing-burger version of the town he grudgingly called home, unsure where he stands on the mortality-scale either way.
Here’s the deal.
Vents? Foolishly overlooked.
Epic concert? Rocked, no notes.
Bat-chow? Do no recommend.
Henderson sobbing? Recommend even less.
Being tagged as a corpse? Perfectly fine if that’s what you are; dead weight in an apocalypse simply cannot be justified.
The issue is when you’re tagged as a corpse, and you…aren’t one.
So you’re left behind.
Which brings Eddie to:
Meeting what they’ve been calling a demogorgon this whole time but that resembles no such thing, those goddamn lying liars: not fucking cool.
Having…enough demobat saliva or venom or poison or whatever, probably, where the misleading-as-fuck demogorgon sniffs at you like a dog with her puppies instead of eating you with those fucking petal teeth?
Neutral. Probably wouldn’t order it again.
Getting licked all over by said Petal Teeth, all lioness-grooming-its-young style? Disgusting.
Disgusting.
Figuring out demogorgon saliva has some kinda magical mystical healing properties and you’re basically just covered in fairly-smooth scar tissue now that looks months old rather than hours, and plus you got a bath out of it so most of the dried blood’s gone too?
Fine, okay, he’d leave a tip for service.
But now Eddie is as alive as he can think to test being—and he’s been running all the monster-category tests and he doesn’t pass for vampire, zombie, or any various other undead creatures, he’s hungry but mostly for like, Chicken McNuggets, and—
Stuck. He’s stuck here.
And he thinks they must have won, the Party that is, because nothing’s really happening except…things are falling apart, like rotting in slow motion.
Which is a concern. But. Cool, if it means they did in fact make the motherfucker pay.
But that also means nobody has any reason to be strolling back in to fight demons anymore, and come across his not-so-dead ass. Plus also, the place is probably going to keep crumbling—if a master of a realm is axed, the realm doesn’t typically survive. Mordor fell apparent when Barad-dûr came down. And he…
He did agree to go into Mordor.
Well, fuck him.
He mostly wanders around and pokes at random shit, collects some books, ignores the fact that the reality he’s looting is on borrowed time.
He doesn’t know if it’s healthier to deal with that part head on or keep pretending it’s not there, but he honestly could not give a fuck.
Because it’s just him. Save the demogorgon who gave him a tongue bath, he’s seen nothing living. Sometimes there’s a stray screech but it’s too distant to even guess where he’d find whatever made it, stumble upon whatever caused it. There’s not even a breeze to move the decaying trees.
There is nothing.
And it’s starting to drive him fucking insane. He might lose it before the reality caves in on him, actually, just for the sheer…void of it all.
He’s on the edge of that—losing it entirely—when he hears it, sees it.
Who the fuck took that magazine, it’s like three years old, only kept it for the tips on…
And then an echo, like a projection in the air, and it’s fleeting and its faint but where that voice what pretty unmistakable already, the coif of chestnut and the peek of a polo collar, and the seizing in Eddie pulse for both together—it’s almost more undeniable.
That’s fucking Harrington.
The vision is, seconds. At most.
But it shifts Eddie’s priorities entirely.
He starts the day—he’s guessing it’s the start of the day, it’s always fucking grey here but he’s just going off of when he’s hungry so—but he looks for cereal in one of these decrepit houses and eats it out of the box as he tries to get his bearings.
Tries also to remember all the weird shit the kids used to say before Eddie knew they were making any of it up.
Context clues give him that this is Hawkins. 1983 or thereabouts—makes sense for the magazine.
But what makes more sense, and is more helpful: Steve had bitched the magazine was moved.
And Eddie’s definitely the one who had it in his hand when he heard said bitching.
So there’s still some connection. Hope’s not totally lost.
Mostly, maybe. But not totally.
He decides to go back to Harrington’s and just wait until he goes there to sleep so he can tail him, have some sense of how he can try and make contact from his own side, let someone know he’s still here.
It takes forever; Eddie wonders just how different time runs, here, save that when he finally hears something, the vision is clearer in the air, ghostly but more complete.
And Steve looks fucking wrecked.
Like he hasn’t slept in days, like he’s about to fucking cry, like he—
He’s still the most beautiful guy Eddie’s seen in person, if this counts as in-person, but like—that was never not-true.
“Rob, I don’t know! I just, I just feel like—“
“I will handcuff you to your bed.”
Eddie tries to feel excited that whatever’s happening is strong enough that two voices come through, that Robin’s here, she’s safe too—
But he’s more invested in what’s causing the shouting.
”I know how to pick a fucking lock, Jesus,” and Eddie doesn’t not think about the lock he’s worn more than once around Steve at his belt, nope, he does not—
”The gates are closed, Steve. It’s over.”
Well. Fuck.
There goes the hope thing.
”Not all of them. Not totally.”
Or maybe not.
”Steve, I will hunt you down, I will dog your steps, I will follow you every single moment if you think I am leaving big you even consider going back to—”
“I love you, Robs, but you still can’t drive. Think you’ll beat me on your Schwinn?”
“I will slash your tires.”
“Sorry, birdie, got AAA to save me.”
And that’s all Eddie gets, but…
It almost feels like he’s got one single snowball’s chance in hell, here. Still. Just one, true, but.
If he’s learned anything the last few days, it’s that Steve Harrington’s maybe the most reliable snowball he could ask for.
His chest is all tingly about it, even—fucking traitor.
Eddie doesn’t even really have to follow where Steve goes next. In that he knows exactly where it is, just not why the fuck Steve wants to be there.
Especially since even the lack of evidence in ‘83’s version of the trailer still makes him look up at the ceiling and feel like he’s gonna puke.
”Oh sure Mister Munson sir, I just want to borrow your dead nephew’s cassettes, that are definitely in the trailer the fed have locked down to be sent to Area 51 or wherever, just in case he’s not entirelydead in another dimension, and he can hear me because I’m definitely not losing my fucking mind, and definitely not because being called ‘Big Boy’ didn’t fuck with my head more than mutant bats ever did…”
Steve’s frankly endearing muttering, and that last bit especially, distract Eddie enough from the fact that Steve is actively rummaging through his room.
Through his room, Jesus, Eddie moves because he even clocks that lunging at Steve here won’t do shit there to stop the questionable literature Steve’s already sifting through.
At least Steve can’t see him blush across planes of existence. Hopefully.
“Oh,” and Steve sounds shocked, but then looks…gutted?
”One more for the ‘you suck’ column,” and Eddie decides right then that he fucking does not approve of that tone, at all; ”not like I had a chance, definitely not his type…”
“But my type’s the paladin who protects everyone and needs a faithful bard to tend his wound and keep his bed!” Eddie blurts out into the nothing on his side of the divide.
“My type’s been you since fucking junior year!”
Because Junior-Eddie was admittedly much more lust-driven. Let that be said.
Now-Eddie’s equally if not more invested in the heart of a man.
And Steve Harrington, even remotely thinking that he isn’t Eddie’s type?
Maybe Eddie really is dead. And this is hell.
”Why do I need them?”
Eddie’s got a new box of cereal—Kix, could definitely be better—and has now trailed Steve to what looks like…the edge of town, which, who lives there…
”Nah, kid, nothing bad. Just want to see something. Promise.”
One of the kids. Maybe this is where the Byerses are, now, if they were right and they’d been on their way back? Because Eddie knows where the rest of them live, and this ain’t it.
Theresa are footsteps in one direction, and Steve wanders in the other, where Eddie sees a girl with a buzz cut he doesn’t know, but who stares Steve down in a way that…Eddie can kinda guess.
They’d all alluded to the super powered kiddo more than once.
”Can you look? Like, just to see if he’s—”
Eddie’s neck turns fast when he turns back in to the conversation, less for the words and more for how timid, how cowed Steve sounds and he…
Eddie just wants, more than anything really, to be able to reach out and touch. To comfort. To do…
Something.
”…would not feel him even if he was there. The connection is gone. The Upside Down is dead.”
And Steve deflates, and Eddie…Eddie remembers the lights didn’t they have to be emotionally unstable, kinda, to make the lights flicker, to let someone know they’re there, and Eddie’s definitely there because—
Not fucking all of it, not yet, Eddie wants to scream; or maybe yes all of it but I’m still fucking here.
Also: that man is 100% my type and I want a fucking shot, I want my snowball’s chance in hell, I want to bite him and call him sweetheart like I mean it and I want, I want, I want—
Also that.
Steve leaves with some…fucking magnets.
And the lights didn’t do jack shit.
Eddie spends most of that night playing with magnets.
Well, not at first.
First, he tries yelling, sobbing, focusing like a Force-user, really anything he could think of to get Steve’s lights to flicker. No such luck.
So then Eddie makes a side quest, after having dutifully made certain not to leave Steve’s side for…however many days.
He pops to Melvald’s because of anyone’s got kiddie alphabet magnets, it’s gotta be them.
And score. Definitely not the worst thing Eddie’s stolen. Plus this place is on the way out. Not really relevant, here, if he cared.
Which he fervently does not.
And proves by grabbing two fifths of tequila on the way out. Hah.
He finds Steve passed out on top of his comforter, plaid monstrosity that it is, and he tries very hard to brush his hair back—nothing.
And then Eddie…somehow that’s the straw that breaks the pack-mule’s back. Something in him just fucking snaps.
Because he distinctly remembers this whole fiasco being tied to the labs owned by the fucking Department of Energy, right?
And they can’t even keep the electrical connection between dimensions working?
That’s…that’s unacceptable.
He’s gonna…he’s gonna file a fucking complaint. He’s gonna show up at a picket line. He’s gonna write a strongly worded letter. He’s…
Actually, he’s got all night if the way Steve’s sprawled says anything for how long he’s gonna stay conked out. And he’s also got these handy alphabet magnets.
Letter it is.
”What the fuck?”
d3ar 3nergy d3pt he4d i ju5+ wan+ed to te11 th15 guy i w4n+ t0 b1+3 him but n00 y0u c4nt e73n d0 +h4t i h8 u
Eddie trips over some empty bottles, the answer of how they got there pounding in his head real quick—oh, hey, hangovers do transcend dimensions, seems suspicious—but yeah, okay, he does remember getting creative with the abundance of math magnets in the poorly-labeled alphabet pack last night, misleading to lead on letters by default on the packaging. He does recall being very convinced a sideways ‘7’ was a passable ‘V’. But.
He’s not looking at his side of things. He’s looking at Steve’s.
And so is Steve.
And then Steve—who Eddie wants to bite but also kiss and maybe just hold in his arms chest to chest to feel his warmth because when his control broke last night it conveniently knocked him upside the head with the clear realization of that fact that Steve Harrington?
Is doing all this shit for him. On the hope of a maybe.
And Steve Harrington had been disappointed not to have found his lookalike in Eddie’s porn rags.
And Eddie wrote a letter to the fucking DoE in magnets about it, and Steve can see it, stuck to his fridge in 1986 as clear as Eddie slapped it there in 1983.
”…Eddie?”
Steve’s voice is so small and so fearful to be wrong. His chest is heaving, he’s scared.
Eddie scrambles for the magnets left on the floor and smacks them violently to the refrigerator door in record time, prays to everything he doesn’t believe in that Steve can feel his relief spelled out in the bulky primary colors:
h3y 61g b0y v3
And goddamnit, when Steve falls to the floor with his jaw dropped loose, Eddie is 100% sold:
A ‘V’ turned on its side absolutely makes the bottom half of a heart for the three to butt-up to.
“Got these to play so if you were there, and couldhear me, you could find your way, if,” and Steve, Steve has been talking to Eddie since they both woke up and found those magnets, even if they haven’t been able to replicate anything, not the letter nor the faulty lighting trick Eddie’d complains about on the fridge in the first place: it could just be a fluke. Steve has no reason to believe Eddie’s alive, that Eddie did that, that Steve didn’t sleepwalk into sleep-spelling, that Eddie even alive in some form would be following his every move.
Of course he is, but. Steve can’t know.
It’s all on faith. For Eddie.
And fuck is Eddie’s heart doesn’t go playing ping pong with his ribs for how much it hits him, how wide and warm it swells in his chest like hope, only second to affection, to want, to—
“Vecna’s not gone, but he’s like, one step from it. I don’t know he can get you but,” Steve taps to the Walkman, to the headphone he gets on just one ear so he can hear and also so someone else—so Eddie—can hear Megadeath as Steve bustles around his house, packing a duffle that reminds Eddie of when they were peeping to storm the castle—
That’s what Steve’s doing. That, that’s what Steve is doing right now.
“I just,” Steve heaves a deep breath, hands on his hips before one pinches between his eyes; “I felt like you were still there, I can’t explain it,” and Eddie’s shaken to his core right now in the best possible way so when he blurts out in a croon:
“Power of loooove, Stevie!”
He can’t be blamed for that. He can’t. He’s…
This man is going down into hell, has not grantee of what Eddie knows in it being largely innocuous, now, save…undead Vecna lurking somewhere, so weak he’s not even noticed.
“But we know music works though, so.”
Steve’s still narrating his plan; Eddie is just staring. Wants to…wants so fucking bad to touch.
“We have to wait for night, for me to get down there. They’re shitty with security on the graveyard shift.” Then Steve’s smirking, and fuck, he’s so pretty.
”Plus Robin sleeps like the dead, she won’t have a chance to notice what I’m doing even on the off chance word got out.”
And the fact that Steve is willing to defy his own platonic soulmate for Eddie—barely knows him in terms of days and hours but at least, if it’s the same as Eddie’s realising more and more that he feels, and unshakable too: it’s like his soul knows Steve, and that cannot care a lick for how time runs, it’s bigger than that.
There’s too much of a sense of potential, a crackling possibility just being in his proximity, even with the distance of other goddamn dimensions—there’s too much swirling in Eddie already for it to mean nothing.
Plus, like: flip the script. Steve is risking everything on a whim, for him.
It cannot be nothing.
“I’m hoping you’re where we left you, which,” and Steve’s voice catches, he pauses, looks around like he’s hoping Eddie might pop into the visible spectrum, so he can see and know, but then he just looks up at the ceiling like—oh, fuck, like it’ll make sure no tears fall out and:
“I can’t fucking tell you how sorry—“ Steve starts to say be Eddie can’t bear watching like this, strides over in an instant and grabs Steve’s hand.
And Steve stills.
And Eddie can feel his pulse in his wrist.
“Is that you?” Steve barely breathes, stares now at his arm where…Eddie can only see the kind of glimmering overlap that means two things are happening in the same place on different planes, he’s grown used to that. But.
If Steve can feel him, if there are moments here that are probably limited where Eddie can prove some little tiny bit that he’s here and he’s listen and he’s with Steve—
He pulls Steve’s hand and drags him into the kind of full body hug he’s been aching for for…fuck.
Too fucking long.
“Eddie,” Steve sighs out, and Eddie can’t help himself. He runs hands through Steve’s hair, and holy fuck: Steve leans in.
Steve feels it enough to lean in.
“It feels like I’ve been falling for a ghost, man.”
Steve says it on a whisper, like he’s still not sold entirely, or else maybe afraid to break a spell. Eddie gets that second part.
“But I guess it kinda started before that, so maybe it’s not as fucking crazy,” Steve laughs a little wet with it and…Eddie has to, because what if he never gets another chance, and hell—if he does, how can he deprive them both the chance to know whatever the sensation will be, like this?
Eddie’s not up to risk never knowing what a cross-dimensional lip lock feels like, okay?
So he doesn’t.
“Please don’t be a ghost,” Steve breathes out and fuck, Eddie can’t taste it but he can feel the way the air moves and it’s, it is; ”I think if you are, I’ll live the rest of my life trying to make it work anyway, I,” and Steve doesn’t get to finish because Eddie pushes in again, and Steve’s as good as his reputation and then some, on wholly separate planes of being.
Eddie cannot fucking wait to feel it flesh to flesh.
“I fall fast, man, but this is kinda insane,” Steve pants, arms out awkward with any indication where to hold. He’s adorable.
He’s delectable.
“But you did say you wanted to bite me, assuming you were talking about me,” Steve smirks but then his eyes go wide:
“Oh, shit, are you a vampire?”
And Eddie has no idea how long he’s been down here alone, surrounding by the silence and the darkness and just the projection level overlay of Steve when he’s lucky, but Jesus H. Christ—
“Is that you laughing?” Steve chokes on his own kinda-giggle as he braces against an unseen and unseeable force barrelling into him: of course it’s Eddie.
Of course he’s fucking cackling.
Because however long it’s been, he definitely hasn’t laughed at any point at all in that span of time—and fuck if he didn’t need it.
Steve slips down the last burbling gate not without effort, not without lava-hot road rash no doubt fucking with his already not-yet-healed stomach.
When he’s tackled, thrown straight to the ground, weight pinning him to the ground that’s more dry, more deadened than Steve remembers from just days ago: when his back hits the ground—none of it matters.
“It was me laughing.”
And then Eddie’s mouth is on his—it’s the echo he was afraid he’d imagined that morning, just like the hand on his wrist, just like the laughter wrapped around him.
“You’re an even better kisser in person, holy shit, even your fucking glowing reputation shortchanged you.”
And Steve’s kinda breathless, not just for getting smooshed to the dirt; but then Eddie’s kissing him again, and breathing seems really kind low on Steve’s list of giving a shit.
“You are so my type it’s not even funny,” Eddie says, before diving back into kiss with a bruising kind of force, an unmistakable kind of intent; “I think my type has fully migrated to include kinda just you.”
And Steve’s heartbeat kinda stutters at that because…that’s new.
No one’s ever…well.
It’s just new.
“You weren’t wrong to leave me behind, you don’t ever have to apologize,” and then he’s kissing along Steve’s jaw, and it’s Steve’s laughter now, the tickle of dirty curls dragging at his stubble; “you got out, you’re safe, you’re here,” and Eddie sounds almost overcome with feeling, with relief, and then in the end, bubbling with joy. And somehow Steve can tell it’s not because Steve’s here to save him, bring him home.
It’s just because Steve’s here and that, that is—
Steve’s heartbeat’s just gonna do that tripping thing for the foreseeable future he thinks, at this point. Probably.
“I was trying to convince myself otherwise, because I didn’t think there could ever be a shot in hell but I was falling before it all fell apart, too,” Eddie says in a rush, leaning again to kiss the corners of Steve’s lips, like talking is just an inconvenient interruption to better ways of using his mouth and given how goddamn much Eddie Munson’s always talked, that fucking says something:
“And ever since, it’s felt like I was falling in love through a movie screen,” and he cups Steve’s face to angle it just so as he breathes, those eyes endless and glistening; “could see but never reach, until,” and then he’s kissing him straight on the lips again, a full-frontal assault, tongue seeking teeth, looking for the depths of his goddamn soul of something.
Steve isn’t even embarrassed for how he arches up, how he fucking moans. No one could ever feel this and do anything less.
Like: fucking impossible.
“I liked your letter to the editor,” Steve gasps when Eddie breaks apart and concedes to needing air, presses kisses up and down Steve’s throat while he regroups.
“Oh, shit,” Eddie’s face pops back up—dirt smears and ruddy and in need of a shower but on the whole in way better shape than Steve last remembers having to walk away from, and fuck, fuck—he’s never walking away from it again; “can we send that to the Post? No edits, I want my numbers intact, let them try to figure it out like Zodiac.”
Steve snorts, because god he really is half in love with this nerd, and he’s not a ghost, he’s sold and his chest is heaving into Steve’s and he’s grinning wills and he’s here and they’re here and this is realand—
He yells when the sting clamps through his much-less-extensive uniform of his Members Only jacket despite the weather—it’s freezing, but like, the gates were just cracks, he had to move like a ninja!
Just not a bite-proof ninja, apparently.
“You know, I should have expected that,” Steve deadpans, but his smile gives him away as Eddie pulls his mouth back from the stretch of Steve’s neck that runs to his shoulder, where honestly Steve thinks Eddie punctured the coat in the process. Fucking feral gremlin.
Steve really wants to keep him. Like, indefinitely.
“You really, really should have,” Eddie agrees, beaming like the sun when there’s only dark around them, making it all feel so warm in the chill.
“Honestly should have expect nothing less,” Eddie’s smile curls a little dangerous as he leans in again, apparently satisfied with having caught his breath enough as he mouths wet against Steve’s lips:
“Big boy.”
And then, again: he pounces.
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cryingpariah · 16 hours ago
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I know that we (Usopp Nation) love to discuss the multiple different ways the eventual meeting between Usopp and Yassop could go but today I wanted to discuss how I think the Strawhats would react to Usopp having/wanting/feeling like he needs to meet his father but hesitating for [Insert reason here].
Luffy: Likes Yassop obviously and would be excited to see him again! But our emotionally intelligent king would pick up on Usopp's vibes and just outright ask him what’s wrong. Would respect his decision to go or not go. If it’s a no though, he'd go and break the news but do it much too bluntly (“Yeah, Usopp didn’t want to come!”). Honestly the whole time there he’s unintentionally making Yassop feel like the biggest piece of shit.
Zoro: Pretends to not care/not have an opinion when he in fact has plenty of both. Zoro's just not the kind of person to care about blood connections, not his own anyway, so he'd probably veer on the side of not going but acts neutral. Regardless of Usopp's decision though Zoro is there to make sure he sticks to it, no wussing out! If he says he’s going he’s going, even if he’s got to hide behind Zoro the whole walk there.
Nami: Usopp's BFFL. She’s there to hype him up! No shitty absent father is allowed to make him feel like shit! She’s helping him get ready, picking a killer outfit and hairstyle for him, everyone knows looking good is the best social armour! If he decides not to go she’s still dressing up him but this time to go and paint the town red! If he does want to go she’s heading there right alongside him! Even if it looks like she’s engaged with something else best believe she’s keeping a hawk eye on Usopp.
Sanji: Guy who is so anti biological father. Is staunchly against Usopp going but tries to hide it behind neutrality and fails miserably. Ultimately though having had some emotional catharsis with facing his own father he’ll accept Usopp's decision no matter what. Absolutely tags along and brings a dish because he was raised a proper chef. (“Oh this? It’s Usopp’s favourite. Not that you had any way of knowing.” *faux polite customer service smile*)
Chopper: Little fella is CONFLICTED. On one hand he’s literally only heard good things about Yassop from both Usopp and Luffy so obviously this guy must be great! But if that was true why did Ussop look so..scared? He decides to approach this from a doctor perspective first by sitting Ussop for a checkup and letting him ramble all his thoughts out. If Usopp decides not to go Chopper's making an official announcement that Usopp's got ‘can’t-leave-the-boat-disease and has to stay for his own good.
Robin: Notices Usopp's discomfort immediately and whisks him away. Sits him down with a cup of her secret stash of soothing tea and lays down all the facts for him. Yes, he has no obligation to go see his father just cause he’s here. No it doesn’t make him a bad person if he doesn’t want to. Despite how wildly different they are, she’s the best at understanding his feelings right now and all that come with it. If he decides to not go, she’ll go in his stead to explain (and also to make sure Yassop doesn’t try to go himself).
Franky: He’s about as emotional as you’d expect. He’d probably be encouraging Usopp to go, not for his dad but for himself. His dreams of being a ‘proper man’ and ‘brave warrior of the sea’ means he shouldn’t live or die with regrets or what ifs. Regardless of Usopp's decision, Franky just wants to make he won’t regret for one reason or another. Will tag along and hype up Ussop to anyone and everyone.
Brook: Like Robin he’s taking Usopp somewhere else to calm down and think. He’s also playing him some soft violin to relax to. They don’t talk much, just let the music guide them for a bit. In a moment of violin driven vulnerability, Brook would tell Usopp that regardless of what does or does not happen, he has a place and a family right here, and that won’t ever change. Places neutral but would prefer if Usopp stayed and didn’t risk getting hurt.
Jinbei: Probably knows Yassop on a semi-causal level and therefore knew of Usopp long before FMI. Was really stunned upon hearing this would be Usopp's first proper meeting with his father. Jinbei's got plenty of sage of advice and can wash away Usopp's parental insecurities by reminding him of who he is and how any man worth a damn would be proud to call him his son. Stays behind if Usopp goes but only because he’s worried of overstepping if he does.
BONUS! (Argue with your mama, your daddy and your congressman Vivi will be the final Strawhat!!)
Vivi ft Karoo: They’re absolutely gobsmacked. Vivi's the one that brings out some latent anger Usopp doesn’t even realize he’s been holding in. I can definitely see Vivi wanting to go even if Usopp's not, she’s very confrontational after all but she defect to what Usopp wants ultimately. If he does want to go she’s right there with him and is totally throwing some shade Yassop's way. Karoo is there as a supportive friend and a quick exit strategy if Usopp needs it.
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seven-vi · 2 days ago
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"Jinx was a better big sister"
This is a take I saw often in fandom after season 2 came out. There were..A couple of bad takes that circulated after the show ended, but this one irked me the most
Vi was a child parenting another child. I don't think Vander was a bad parent, good as one can be in their situation, but him being there didn't stop that dynamic from happening. Could be seen as (Intentionally or not) Encouraging that in pushing her as the "leader" of their group
Vi watched her, kept her safe, defended her both physically and verbally. She was her main support. She stopped being just her sister once their parents died, and for a child, she did pretty good. Did she shove her sister? Yes. Is it the best? No, but again, siblings. As good as a relationshipyou get with one, it's still bound to happen. You're stuck in the same space with one person. If she'd been physically abusive, Powder wouldn't act like that with her. She doesn't let Powder in on dangerous shit for good reason. It's not some belief that she is in fact a jinx, but that she's got so little family left. Despite Powder wanting to help, she's not capable. She's a malnourished preteen, of course she can't keep up. That's not a bad thing! Taking her would put them all in more danger and that's not a point against Powder
The only real big thing is when Vi punches her sister. Again, not great, but I don't blame her
Vi just lost everything. Brutally. Her future is unsure. And the sister she told to stay home comes running up, telling her she's the one who just blew up their last bit of family. In that moment she's not acting like a parent. Powder is not her child, that is her little shit sister, who did not fucking listen, and fucked up everything! No it's not mature to call her a jinx or hit her, but Vi isn't mature. She's 15. She stops as soon as she realizes and makes herself go calm down
To Powder, this is her last living parental figure leaving her for fucking up again. But she didn't leave. She was going to come back (And likely get killed) Before she was sent to prison. She then spent her entire time in and out of prison trying to get her sister back
Hell, I don't blame her for hitting Isha. She was (Not lethally) Fighting with her sister, and something has just jumped on her and bit her. The motion her arm makes isn't even a punch, she's moving her arm back to try and knock an attacker off. The whole move screams "Trying to remove an someone without actually having to use real force or two hands to pry them off." It's not a move that would often end in blood. And yet again, is horrified that it happened. I know why it happened in narrative, but that moment is not Vi realizing Jinx is better at being a sister. This seeing something so similar to past guilt and all of those feelings are rushing back. Vi thinks she's terrible. Jinx likely counts it as a point against her. But!! It's not. The whole thing was an accident and a culmination of everyone's actions up until that point
Was Jinx a good sister? Yes. And also no
She actively endagers Isha. She shoots people infront of a child. Her hideout is better then it had been with just Jinx, but it's still not safe. Objectively not great. But also!! To Jinx, this is involving Isha. Making sure she doesn't feel abandoned. Protecting her. She is pretty great in playing with her, caring for her etc. The big difference though? Isha is younger, and Jinx is an adult
I think the whole point was that neither of then were perfect at it because of their situations/Lives and how they reacted. Vi was a child attempting to parent another child. Her biggest concern was keeping Powder safe. Jinx had a more childlike approach, but she is still young, and Isha was younger then Powder. Her biggest concern was making sure Isha never felt abandoned. It's meant to be a contrast. The only reason Jinx parents the way she did is because of her relationship with Vi. She wanted to do what Vi hadn't, and in return, missed things that Vi did do for good reason. I think the whole thing probably gave Jinx a better understanding of her own sister, rather then a "Well this proves Silco right"
This is decently long and I feel I may be missing a few points, but I'm gonna wrap it up here. They weren't entirely good big sisters, but that doesn't make them bad. They did the best they could with what they were. Vi especially. As good or bad as the actions may be it makes sense for a 15 year old, and I really don't understand the slander
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kitthepurplepotato · 18 hours ago
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Chapter 21 - Let’s ignore the elephant in the room.
Summary: Y/N learns more about the people who live in Izuku’s head. No, she doesn’t think Izuku needs to see a therapist. Izuku already does that anyway.
Izuku also acts weird when it comes to the Hero Gala… what is he hiding?
(Is this how you write a summary? Hell, I’ve been away for too long.)
First Chapter Master List Ko-fi
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Somewhere in the near future
Y/N’s Diary entry #145
Life has been great. Too great, to be honest.
I was loved and appreciated and my side hustle helped me to get enough money to feel safe in case something goes wrong. No more stress about being a burden or feeling useless. Sounds great, right?
It was… it was great. Everything was splendid.
I knew something will happen in the future. I knew it can’t stay this good forever.
But I didn’t think the reality will hit me this hard.
The funny thing is, that it isn’t even about me. My life is still… great. But seeing my loved ones in so much pain is worse than being in it myself. The tears, the loud sobs, the sound of choking on air in the middle of a breakdown… these things live in my head rent-free, they keep me up at night and mess up my mornings and I hate how I’m completely unable to do anything to help my loved ones.
~•~
“I know we usually go from number ten to number one, but tonight… it will be different.” The entrepreneur announced on the hero gala without a single smile, shaking and kinda broken. No one clapped. They just sat in silence, their eyes the size of saucers, their anxiety clear even through the screen of the TV. “I have a letter from our favorite number one pro hero, Deku. Now let me read it for you.”
I knew right at that moment… that things won’t be same anymore.
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Back to the present.
“Do you think we went a bit unhinged in there?” You mumble to yourself as you enjoy the hot water of the onsen. Izuku looks at you questioningly, not really understanding what this is about; feeling his gaze on you after everything you two have just done it’s a little bit… well… embarrassing? No, it’s not the right word to use. It’s a pleasant feeling but it also makes you shy away a little bit. You feel like that meme that’s circulating the internet about wives getting shy around their long-term husbands after getting… well… loved hard. Now, there is two problems with this; first of all, it was your first time with him (plus you’ve only been together for a few months), second of all, your time together was anything but… hard. It was soft but scorching hot like a marshmallow being cooked by a fireplace. It was the exact opposite of what that wife was going through in that one meme.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… we are a bit too much, aren’t we?” You try to make yourself a bit easier to understand and by the look of it, Izuku gets it; but instead of getting shy about it, he just gives you a massive, adorable smile then moves into your personal space to answer you while your lips are almost touching.
This man will be the death of you.
“Is it weird to be obsessed with my girlfriend?” Izuku closes the distance, his lips moving on your own as he speaks. It makes your heart beat out of rhythm and you feel the familiar warmth in your tummy again, only half an hour after your cheeky shenanigans.
You blame it on the hot water, because otherwise… How insatiable can you be?!
“I mean, it might look weird to other people. But I guess I’m no better than you and if you are okay with it then so am I?” You answer with your eyes half lidded, anticipating the kiss you are so hungry for.
“I don’t give a fuck what others think, Sweets. Not when it comes to you.” Izuku grumbles in a deep voice and finally puts his lips back on yours for a chaste kiss. You can’t help but giggle.
“Did Kacchan’s soul just infiltrate you for a second there?”
“Nah, but my answer was heavily influenced by one of the vestiges inside me. He doesn’t talk much but when he does, he has a strong opinion.”
“They… talk to you?” You look up at your boyfriend with pure wonder. This is the first time you hear about this; he told you about feeling the old wielders inside him but he never clarified on what level he can communicate with them. In your head, you thought it’s more like a second conscience, like you can feel it when they are angry or happy about whatever is happening around Izuku but that’s about it.
“Yeah, I…” Izuku moves his face away from you but his arm snakes around your middle to pull you closer. You put your head on his chest, ready to hear his story. It’s something you do quite frequently; you put your head on his chest or in his lap while Izuku tells you unheard tales about stuff he’s been through. “You see, it’s really embarrassing to tell someone that there are several other people living inside my head, taking over my own thoughts sometimes. I don’t want to end up in a mental hospital… not like you would ever do something like that, but… I’m sorry I kept this a secret.”
“How does it work?” You take Izuku’s free hand in your own and start playing with it, trying your best not to sound so nosy. You fail.
“They… well… uhh, this is so hard.” He giggles. “They aren’t constant… they jump into my head once in a while when they have a strong opinion about something but they let me live my own life and they try their best not to interfere nor influence my decisions. They talk to me during battles, help me with strategies, I can also close my eyes and talk to them if I want to or need to. During my dark days, right after the accident I sometimes managed to completely zone them out. They weren’t happy about that.” Izuku admits.
“What were they thinking about us?” You try to change the topic because there is no way in hell you want Izuku to start getting all nostalgic and sad right now.
“They teased the shit out of me for being a coward. They knew about my feelings sooner than I did. They haven’t said too much but when they did they were… let’s just say I have a full ass “SweetZuku” ship gang inside my head.” He giggles, leaving a tiny kiss on the top of your head. “Don’t worry, they love you. Especially the first wielder. And the second, even if he denies it.”
“Tell them I said hi.” You mutter sleepily, way too comfortable in this position.
“You made them really happy by saying that. Maybe, in the future we could try and talk to them together.” Izuku smiles, elated from being understood.
“I would love that. Thank you, Izu… and the gang.” You giggle, moving your head towards Izuku’s to give him another kiss.
“I hope this kiss is only for me though. I’m a really giving guy, but I’m not sharing you.”
You laugh out loud; this reminds you of the time when Izuku got so jealous of that poor fan who asked for a selfie with you that his black whip came out in the middle of a meet and greet, scaring the shit out of the staff while the fans just took it as “fan service” and wrote poems about how cool it was to see black whip in action.
“I’m aware of that, Izu. Way too aware.” You giggle yourself as you keep peppering kisses on your boyfriend’s mouth.
“Sorry, it won’t change.” Izuku announces proudly and you are so proud of him that you are about to cry; this might sound like a red flag from anyone else, but seeing Izuku finally sticking to his opinion instead of trying to change for other people is such a big step up compared to his old self you can’t help but feel pride swelling in your chest because hell, you did that. It was a long struggle but finally, your work has payed off.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know you wouldn’t harm anyone nor me and it’s in your rights to be protective over your loved one so please, keep being jealous, it’s kinda hot, anyway.”
“Wow.” Izuku looks at you incredulously, extremely entertained by your answer. “I’ll… do my best to be healthily jealous then. I love the way you looked at me when I said that. In your words - it was kinda hot.” He gives you a massive grin.
“Going back to our original conversation…” you give Izuku a knowing smile. “We are really weird, but I really fucking like it.”
“That’s my girl.”
… yeah, you are definitely insatiable. There is no other explanation to why are you two heavily making out in the scorching hot onsen right now, absolutely ignoring the dizziness from being in the hot water for so long.
“Jesus Christ, can you stop making out so loud?!” Comes Kyouka’s voice from the other side of the massive privacy fence. “I’m trying to relax here!”
“Wanna take this to the bedroom, Sweets?” Izuku looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I heard that!”
“He knows!” You yell to your friend as you crawl out of the water, stumbling to your towel while Izuku’s eyes move from your head to your toes shamelessly, clearly enjoying the “5 star view”. You really want to comment on it but after doing the same only a few hours ago, you have no rights to do so. “Come on, let Kyouka enjoy her solitude.”
“Yes, madam!”
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“Yup, they fucked.” Kaminari declares with a straight face, once he opens the door.
You really want to lie and say you have no idea why Kaminari thinks that’s true, because surprisingly enough, you did look into the mirror before and coming here and you did try to sort yourself out but… there are things you can’t really hide with make up; for instance, your eyes that shine like a fucking star got stuck in your irises or Izuku’s puffy lips and pink neck, still ruddy from all the kisses.
After the onsen… you two… well… uhm…
Let’s just say you couldn’t forget how Izu said he’s never done certain things in bed and that he was always on the giving side and never on the receiving side… So once you two were inside the four walls you decided to show him some other things he might have missed. You are quite sure you lost your voice during the “process” but it was absolutely worth it and Izuku got hooked on the new type of intimacy and came up with ideas of his own and… well, yeah. You are limping a little bit. Just a tiny bit. Mostly because of all the “leg training” but there’s also that other factor that you can’t even say out loud because you two are too fucking sweet to say those things. And all of these things had happened out of love so… there is no need to make it sound dirty. You two had a good time but maybe went a bit too far. Oh well, it happens.
“I really have an urge to yell about the audacity of coming to my humble abode looking like a wreck but if I would need to suffer another day with you two eye fucking each other at my table I’d probably explode myself to the other world, so just shut up and sit down.” Katsuki mutters, also with a straight face and Eijirou just sighs at that.
“At least they are not denying it. I remember you telling everyone a week ago that you got beaten up in a “secret mission” when…”
“OH MY GOD THERE WAS NO SECRET MISSION?!” Denki hollers out loud. “
“Nope. Just me. Sorry.” Eijirou gives the group the biggest grin known to mankind, not even flinching when Katsuki slaps him in the face with a kitchen towel.
After the group is finally distracted, everyone sits down to eat another gorgeous meal made by Katsuki himself, mostly talking about hero stuff and Rody’s shenanigans. The night goes well, until Kyouka brings up the hero rankings. Izuku’s whole body stiffens next to you as Kyouka starts to talk about the dress she decided on for the big event next week; the whole gang chimes in with their own choice of clothing, showing pictures on their phones back and forth, completely indifferent to the turmoil in Izuku who just stares at his leftovers and plays with a little pea in his bowl. You wordlessly try to console him by taking his clenched hand into yours; he clenches it so hard you almost yell out loud from the pain.
Something is wrong. Really wrong.
“What are you gonna wear to the Gala, Izuku?” Kirishima asks, eyes full of excitement but it changes into a look of concern once he takes a better look at the greenette.
“I’m not going to this one.”
Someone’s butter knife hits the table. Someone chokes on their drink. Everyone processes the information differently but one thing is identical; everyone looks at Izuku like he’d grown another head.
“You can’t be fucking serious.” Kyouka looks at Izuku, utterly dumbfounded.
“You are the Number One hero of this country.” Katsuki sneers. “It’s your fucking responsibility to show your cute little freckled face and make sure people know you are still there for them.” Katsuki said these words with venom in his voice; you are extremely surprised to hear Katsuki’s tone so harsh.
“I’m not there for them though, am I?” Izuku snaps back with his eyes full of tears. “I can’t fight their battles. I can’t help them. You can’t possibly ask me to show up and be all smiley and “cute” when my whole fucking career is in shambles!”
Everyone steps back for a second. There is an awkward, tension-filled silence at the table and you have no idea what to do; Izuku’s words make sense but they also don’t and you really don’t know who to stand with.
“Like it or not, he has a point.” Eijirou puts his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “As you can see, he’s still not okay. Let him sit this one out. It’s not worth ruining his amazing day.”
“He ruined it for himself when he started fucking yelling at me.” Katsuki stands up from the table, clearly shaken up by the whole situation; Katsuki might look like a strong person but he’s actually really sensitive; you can clearly see how wet his eyes are when he stomps into his room and slams the door on everyone.
“Kacchan!” Izuku is the next one to leave the table, running after the blonde with nothing but guilt in his teary eyes. Everyone just stares at the drama in utter silence, not really sure how to help or what to do to save this evening.
Thankfully, the fact that everyone at this table is an grown ass adult, the drama sizzles out after half an hour; Izuku and Katsuki emerges from the bedroom after some yelling and banging is heard from the other side of the door; their eyes are red rimmed and cheeks blotchy but they have their arms around each other’s shoulders and everything looks “okay”; or at least for the rest of the group who sigh happily when the two joins the Netflix-binge on the couch. Not you, though. You look at Izuku intensely, you look at the way his mouth smiles but the edges are still facing downwards, and you realize that something is still wrong; Izuku is hiding something, from the group, and from you.
Something is wrong but everyone ignores it, too happy to have the “good vibes back”.
You really feel the urge to yell at the group to look closely, to find a solution for the problem before someone gets hurt but all these heroes worked their asses off to have these few days off and you don’t have the heart to ruin their good time nor ruin Izuku’s only time where he can be out and about, far away from those four walls he is not used to be surrounded by for more than a few hours.
Will this decision bite you in the ass in the near future? Probably. Will you regret this decision a few days later? Yes… But you can’t help but smile when Izuku’s weird half-smile becomes a real one as he sits down on the sofa, snuggles into your arms while his legs end up on Katsuki’s lap who plays with the hem of his trousers in a weird, affectionate way.
“Are you okay?” You mutter into Izuku’s ears.
“No.” Izuku admits and your whole world turns upside down. “But one day��” he looks around his friends, who are all snuggled together on the sofa enjoying each other’s company, not knowing when the next time will be when they can be together like this. “One day, I’ll be okay. And that’s good. I’m happy with that for now. Sometimes, it needs to get worse before it gets better, you know.” Izuku smiles at you with a sad, but genuine smile and your heart skips a beat once again. You are so far gone for this man it’s ridiculous.
“It will all make sense, eventually.” You leave a tiny kiss on Izuku’s fluffy curls and turn back towards the TV. “I’m not worried, because if you ever get lost, I’ll be there to show you the right way.”
“And I’m counting on it.” Izuku smiles, but somehow, the sentence brought some weird eerie vibe into the room.
You try your best to read between the lines but you feel like there is a missing piece to this puzzle.
Ahh, let’s not overthink it for today. There is always a “tomorrow” to sort that shit out.
… to be continued!
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TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh
Potato ramble:
- Long time no see, guys. I know I have a lot of explanation to do but I’ll spare you from the gruesome details as I genuinely think no one deserves to even go through all the shit I’ve suffered even through another person.
But if you want to get a short version then here you are, but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to.
The short story is: I’ve had two traumatic experiences in the last 3 years which made me extremely weak mentally but I always pushed through by saying “until this one person is with me I’ll be fine.” Well, this person stabbed me in the back in the most evil way, while I was the weakest, which ended up completely ruining me and traumatizing me once more (therapist’s words, not mine, I’m not being overly dramatic, just factual.) I live far away from my small family (2 hours with a plane) and I didn’t want to run away from my new home as I knew I’ll never have the balls to come back all alone so I had to endure all of my mental struggles without my family’s support. The only reason I’m still alive is my friends and my family who worked their asses off to keep me alive through the phone, and my work colleagues who never let me out of their sight and called me over so I don’t have time to think. I also have a therapist now which does wonders. So yeah, I literally didn’t have the mental energy to even give you guys a heads up.
I’m still struggling and I’ll probably never be the same but I’m trying my hardest; I gained all the weight back that I’ve lost (I was 45 kg to start with so me losing weight really wasn’t a good thing, I literally looked like a skeleton it was a nightmare), I started working out (in a healthy way) and I’m trying to get back to my old self. Please be patient with me.
- I have 3 or four chapters already written hence I decided to start posting again! I wanted to wait until the full story is done but I miss communicating with you and I also like to hear your thoughts before I write a chapter hence I decided to yolo it and start posting but please be patient with me. I still have breakdowns sometimes and I’m having a hard time writing about romantic things as my whole life is in shambles. But I really like this story (and the Kirishima one too! You will need to wait a little bit longer though 😭) so I decided to try and finish it.
- On a more positive note; look at my new rainbow flat! There is MHA in every single corner, even in the toilet btw, I’m living that best single life right now with my purple sofa, a magenta rug and fairy lights! With that said, see you in the next chapter! Please send me your thoughts 🩷 (Also, there is some angst incoming but this is the last one. Only good things after that!)
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dearweirdme · 2 days ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/774381954334326784/what-haunts-me-is-tae-waiting-for-someone-to-open
“Not a bad thing to be haunted by”
But if this was a Jikook edit you would have gone on and on about how you hate the way Jikookers sexualize everything Jikook does. Funny how you don’t see to share the same sentiment here💀
Hi anon!
Im getting extremely tired of all the ‘but if this was a jkk’ asks i’ve been getting (probably all you), so let me put some things straight here (and if you come back like this again you will get blocked).
This ask actually says way more about where your mind goes than about mine. Because I never said anything about them having sex, neither did my anon (though perhaps their mind did go there, I don’t know). For me, this would be a moment of intimacy.. a moment for them to be together without having a camera pointed at their faces. I don’t actually tend to think they are sexually intimate when there’s cameras around because that would be an actual huge risk (something Jkkrs don’t seem to understand). You seem to follow my blog very intensely, so you know I hardly ever mention their sexlives and I certainly do not sexualize them.
But also this, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to believe in both Jkk and Tkk? In neither? Do you want me to stop blogging? None of that’s going to happen, so you might as well just block me if it’s so annoying to you.
Moreover, Jikook is fake. It was clear before , but during AYS it is proven to be fake by Jm and Jk themselves. I am not going to be considarate towards Jkkrs, because they are delusional. The moment Jk and Jm said this…
… it was all over. This is strong evidence of Jkk being fake. I know Jkkrs either ignore this (searching for a clip of this is actually hilarious) of twist it into a romanticized temporary breakup thingy), but what they are telling us is that they didn’t meet or hang out or even call for months! Not even just two months… but at least spanning the time Jm was busy with Face until AYS. And they are talking about it in a joking lighthearted way. We could tell that during the time they didn’t meet it was also not an issue, because they mentioned each other just fine during their weverse lives. We actually did see them together (didn’t make an impact apparently) during Hobi’s enlistment and they were just fine. Jm told Jk to visit him more during that dance practice, so Jkkrs idea of Jm being too busy is an idiotic one (especially since he did make time for Hobi and Yoongi, and facetimed Tae several times a month. There was nothing wrong between Jm and Jk.. they just did not make time for each other and that goes against them being in a relationship. This is not even something you can point at as being my point of view or my opinion… this is just facts.
Above all that, please let Jkkrs do research on how queer artists who are out get treated and let them think about if they truly believe Jm and Jk would be able to be out. BH having/letting them do this show is also proof that they are not together. Them enlisting together is also proof that they are not together. Music companies do not take risks.
So.. please go away with your ‘but if it was a Jkkr saying this’ nonsense as if I’m somehow supposed to treat their ideas the same as ours.
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inkedinfusions · 2 days ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 13
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⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.
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── ★ ˙ ̟ . 🗝 .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist
⊰– prev   next–⊱
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𝟏𝟑 | 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧
chapter word count: 3.1k
content warnings: blanket warnings
a/n: Hi! So sorry for the delay lol, the semester started and it Is Going. This chapter was like the last one: unplanned!! Idk if yall remember, but Paradis holds a meeting between the military and the queen when the Volunteers first arrive, and our dear Y/n will make her appeal there. That was supposed to be chapter 12, but as you can see, that didn't happen oops. So! Im now one hundred percent sure that will be next chapter and the next one after that will be a filler slash relationship building chapter with our favorite angry boy yay! Also its my birthday yayyyy 
Thanks for reading!
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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆��𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 being proven wrong as you approach, and you realize that the gate is not yet repaired. There is no splintered wood nor crumbling rock to serve as evidence of the invasion carried out by the Armored but the place where the gate is supposed to stand, even though you know the memories of the Warrior’s Titan mark every survivor.
Still, it is Bertholdt's presence that settles over Shiganshina. Maybe it's because the damage caused by Reiner has already been, in a way, repaired by Eren, as it is his Titan that now guards the gate to the city. It is eerie how the Wall doesn’t move nor sway, and yet what stood years against the snow, wind and rain is marked by a handprint on its summit.
As you get closer, you start to notice how the crystal seems to glow from within, a brighter and bigger sample of the lamps carried by the Scouts. It's dark purple where there is shadow and painted blue by the sun rays that bounce against its surface. But the overcast clouds seem to tint it a melancholy grey, sucking out the color of the once vibrant place.
The cart skids to a halt as you approach, and wooden platforms are brought down by pulleys to assist you in getting over the wall. You accept Armin’s hand when he offers you help in stepping down, your feet striking the earth as you move out of the cay of the others.
You stand still for a moment, looking upwards at the Wall.
It stands 50 meters tall above you, towering over your group. The others, having grown up next to walls their whole lives, are not as easily impressed as you, so you stand alone at the side, gawking at the sheer presence of the stone structure.
But it's not really stone, you remember. It's titan crystal, less so blue and more so grey and weathered than the one plugging both entrances to the city. Under them reside thousands of Colossal titans, struck up from the ground by a king of yesteryear, who vowed against war.
“It's big, huh?” Armin asks when he sees your upwards gaze.
You would make a that's what she said joke if you weren't unsettled by the magnitude of the future hanging over you, by the significance of the past standing below you. Judging by the handprint, you are more or less where Bertholdt once stood along with Reiner and maybe Annie, ready to carry out Marley’s will.
And in a messed up way, you are too. Not Marley’s will specifically – hell would freeze over before you did a thing that country preached. But you are under Zeke’s orders to infiltrate the island, just like the Warriors once were, and pave the way for his own ulterior motives. You were a double, triple, quadruple agent, working for both teams, your own, and the audience.
“Yeah,” you answer, a little breathless from all the things running through your mind. “It's… intimidating.”
“I guess it can be,” – He guesses? – “they’re not exactly… conventional.”
“You can say that again,” you answer.
Armin lets out a small laugh, rubbing his nape. He leads you over to one of the wooden elevators as you ponder on the implications of it all, so lost in thought you almost bump into him when he comes to a stop.
The elevator you get on is boarded by him and Levi, who also brings his horse, and you are slowly brought up by two pulleys situated at the top of the wall. The way up is gradual, in the sense that there is not much to do, much to talk about, much to see but the horizon that stretches past the field and the forests.
The wind whistles against your ears as you are elevated in the air, getting you closer and closer to the zenith. It's unreal, and the view from the side of the Walls steals your breath away just like the Walls themselves. It's twenty meters, then thirty, then fourty. Finally, at the fifty meter mark, you disembark the wooden structure, careful to not step on the unused rails that decorate the Wall’s perimeter.
You pay no mind to the neighs of Levi’s horse as the captain leads him to the elevators on the other side, preferring instead to break off from your small group in favor of peeking over the edge, towards the city. You do so carefully, knowing you are not clumsy enough to fall, but still exercising an adequate amount of caution.
There, with the wind running through your hair, tousling your cape, you bear witness to the tragedy of Shiganshina. There are two craters in the middle of the city, running deep, stretching wide. Twins; siblings. They scar the earth, leaving nothing but crumbling houses and half cleaned rubble around them, a stark scar the city bears from the altercation last year.
There is a river that flows all throughout Shiganshina, extending past the borders established by the Wall. Houses that harbor what little the people of the district left behind in their panicked retreat line the streets, and you marvel at how little they look from up where you are.
A presence steps beside you, and you don't need to crane your neck to know who they are. Eren contemplates the city in a similar fashion, his cape matching your own in the rhythm the roaring wind dictates. Your fingers clench the fabric of your pack as you survey the view.
You don’t need to look at him to know what he is thinking about. In the two weeks that it had taken you to arrive to Shiganshina, Eren had reverted back to his gloomy self, not offering much in terms of conversation or facial expressions. But you, much like him, remember the promises made under the blanket of dawn.
Bertholdt’s Colossal – now Armin’s– had been able to command such destruction in so little time. It had resulted in both the death of Armin and his resurrection, as well as the animosity you are sure many exhibit towards him, a sentiment shared with Floch.
So what could you do against thousands of them? If one’s brute force rendered –or rather, will render– Liberio’s navy useless, what did you possibly think you could do against an army commanded by the boy standing next to you?
You shift your gaze towards Eren, whose eyes seem to be glossed over with words left unsaid, with memories better left forgotten. But if he's anything like you, the very act of wanting to forget does nothing but enliven the contents of your premonitions.
His eyes meet yours and you wonder what he is thinking about now. Is it Carla, who perished at the hands of Dina? Is it Ramzi, who was crushed under the weight of giant feet? You don’t know which is worse; the undeniability of the past, or the indisputability of the future.
But there is no time to dwell on what was and what could be. You pull away from the call of the void, walking towards where Armin is waving at you. There are now two horses in the elevator, Levi’s and another you assume to be Armin’s.
The ropes twitch and groan as you are lowered into the district, and the slight wobble of the wood sends your heart into a faster tempo. It only begins to slow down when you are back on the safety of solid ground.
You wait for the others to come down, standing next to Armin as he straps his things to his horse, handing him your own when he gestures to you. The cart would do more harm than good when passing through the cities, so you’ve been relegated to passenger duty on Armin's horse.
“Oh, wait–” you say just as you are handing him your things. “Let me just get something out first.”
“Sure,” Armin says as you begin to rummage through them.
While Mikasa’s tea leaves have done little to prevent or minimize your headaches, they give you something to chew on on the road, so you want to get those out while it is possible to do so. But what falls out of your things when you are taking the packets out is not something you remember packing in the first place.
It is a small, black drawstring bag, similar to ones you’ve seen contain jewelry or other precious but small things. The material is too delicate to be from Paradis, and you’ve seen similar bags on Liberio, so you know it is something you unknowingly brought from Marley.
You frown, crouching to pick up the bag. Your face contorts even more when you notice that it is extremely light, as if the only thing that weighs in it is its own material. You distinctly remember your bag being vetoed as nothing dangerous, so you can't help but wonder if the contents of the bag were confiscated before you could get to it.
“What’s that?” Armin asks when you straighten up.
“I have no idea,” you answer, fighting a flinch when another voice pipes up from behind.
“What’s what?” Eren asks.
You wordlessly show him the small pouch, throwing it up in the air and catching it, feeling even more confused when nothing is heard from its insides. So, expecting nothing, you decide to open it anyway. What did you have to lose? The Scouts had already revised it, so they couldn’t fault you for doing so.
Nothing catches your eye when you peek into it, but the real surprise comes when you turn it upside down and shake it onto your held out hand.
A single button falls from the confines of the pouch, landing directly on the center of your palm. And this simple button should definitely not make you want to cry, but you have to take a deep breath before tears start coming out your eyes.
It's true that you didn’t have the permission to take things –your clothes– that were not rations and water from Marley, because either way the Scouts could seize it, or you could lose it, or it could simply be something to hang over your head. You argued with Zeke over it, wanting a part of your home for comfort in those foreign lands, but he didn’t budge.
However, something seems to have gotten through to him, because, without you knowing, he sniped away a button from the garments you arrived in, stowing it away inside your bag for a surprise when you arrived.
There is no note, only a lone button and the bag it came in, but to you it is now one of your most prized possessions. What a cruel joke that the evidence that Zeke cared for you, even if just a little, came to you in the very place that arguably suffered the most because of his exploits.
“It's a button,” you say after a moment. “A token from home.”
“You’ll lose it if you stash it there,” Eren says when you stuff it inside your pocket. “I don’t have string but… I think I know where to get some.”
“You don’t mean…” Armin trails off. “The basement?”
Eren nods. Armin’s eyes dart towards Levi, who catches his gaze and raises an eyebrow at his skittish behavior.
“Something of the matter, Arlert?” Levi asks, approaching.
“No, sir,” he answers, fiddling with the straps that hold your things to the back of his horse.
“I’d like to show Y/n the basement, sir,” Eren responds, voice flat to lend credibility to his excuse. “Maybe her perspective could show us something else.”
Levi narrows his eyes, darting them between Eren and you, but maybe your two weeks of compliance have softened his suspicions of you because he doesn’t immediately shut down the idea. Hange’s chipper voice only seals the deal.
“Oh? You want to extend the tour? Sounds like a great idea” they chirp. “Hey, why doesn’t Mikasa accompany you too? Surely she knows the district just as well.”
You accept Hange’s way of both looking out for you and keeping you in their sight. It is clear they trust Mikasa to cut you down should it be required, but they also know you’ve grown closer over the past two weeks. Mikasa, on her part, nods and falls into step next to Eren, with you following after them.
The atmosphere is eerie, the crunch beneath your boots strange enough you decidedly do not look down for fear you will find something other than rock. There is not one house without debris on its roof, with some completely torn from their foundations. There are traces of fire, of ash, of dried out blood.
Maybe Hell started in Shiganshina. Maybe the tragedy you want to prevent has already started.
But no matter, now you are too preoccupied –forcibly preoccupied– with not getting lost in the district, where every street and every building looks the same to you. Greenery swallows them, blending rock and dirt along the way, blemished by rocks, by wood, by forgotten belongings.
“We are here,” Eren says, stopping on the edge of the path.
The scene is brutal.
Up the cobblestone stairs sits a house– or more accurately, sat a house. Eren’s childhood home is completely destroyed by a boulder, the same one that trapped his mom under it, if your memory serves you correctly. The roof is at eye level, laying on top of the wooden ruins that
made up the structure.
The trapdoor they lead you to is right at the base of the boulder, having escaped the house’s fate by just a couple of meters. Although if the scratches on the door are anything to judge by, then there was a small rock on top, which probably got carried away the first time the Scouts discovered the basement.
They open the trapdoor, and you walk down the stairs after them, coming eye to eye with a broken door. You remember Levi kicking it down after the key Eren had brought with him hadn’t worked. You wonder if its protocol, to find a quick, brutal way to resolve problems, even if the consequences of such actions are something that marks it forever.
You chide yourself. Time is a privilege; you more than anyone –except Eren, probably– know how little you have left, how every second of it must be taken advantage of before it is too late. The fact that they had little to no time and still did the best they could is something to admire, not reprimanded.
Mikasa lights the lamp she had brought with her, flooding the room with it so you can see clearly. The study of Dr. Jaeger is full of books, vials and writings. Artifacts stand on every corner of the room, but there are too many empty spaces for it to feel organic. You guess whatever stood there was confiscated or something of the sort.
“I didn’t really need the string, you know,” you tell Eren, who is busy searching through various drawers.
“A want is not less than a need,” he answers cryptically.
“Hange said that,” Mikasa says.
“So what?” Eren says. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”
You fidget, anxious without anything to do. You can’t help but feel as if you are intruding, being somewhere you are not meant to be. So, with nothing to do, you stroll around the room, reading the names of the books, some Eldian, some Marleyan.
“Do you think the house next door still has those scissors they used to lend us?” you hear Eren ask Mikasa.
“Probably. Why?” she responds.
“Could you look for them? I found the string but it's too long.”
You turn around just in time to see Mikasa’s suspicious glance, only this time it is not directed towards you, but towards Eren. Her eyes also dart towards you, albeit with less wariness that you thought she would.
“Are you sure?” she asks him, to which Eren nods.
Mikasa hesitates for a moment, but then steps through the ruined door, making her way to the neighbor’s. You watch her leave, looking as her scarf gently sways with every step she takes, going up to places she has roamed far longer than you.
Eren is back to rummaging throughout the study, even with his earlier statement of being able to find the string.
“So?” you ask amidst the silence. “Did you want to talk about something?”
You had touched upon his memories, yours, and the tragedies soon to come that dawn at the beach. He had the upper hand, the home turf; you had the better part of the future mapped out, and the knowledge that came with being an outsider.
But you hadn’t told him about your heritage, nor Zeke’s plan, nor the way you watched him break down in the last years of his life. So you are rightfully scared he might take his words back when he realizes you haven’t been entirely truthful with him.
“Talk?” he asks, snapping you out of your rabbit hole. “About what? Did anyone say anything? Was it Floch? If it was him I’ll–”
“He didn’t say anything,” you say, more surprised than anything. “I meant about the whole… future thing.”
“Oh, that,” he says, twisting his body so he is face to face with you again. In his hands lies a bunch of thread, so the scissors weren’t an excuse to get Mikasa out. “Why? Do you?”
“I just thought you wanted to. You know, when you proposed we go to the basement,” you say, each word sounding more and more ridiculous as you say them. “I thought maybe it was a ploy so nobody would hear.”
Eren tilts his head to the side, stepping closer to you. As he does, you notice the expressionless eyes regain a small fire, still, it was too small to compare with the him from before.
“This isn't…” he starts, struggling with finding the right words. “I’m not just talking to you because of that.”
“Well, yes,” you say, chuckling awkwardly. “I know that.”
“I think you don’t,” he replies. “It’s nice talking to someone who knows, sure, but not everytime we get together we have to talk about that.”
“Oh,” you say.
Back at Marley, your day to day life was ruled by what you knew and by what you would do with that information. Every word you exchanged with Zeke had an undertone to it, however kind, however innocent. For the past year you had done nothing but agonize over things yet to come, over people yet to suffer.
But it seems it's different here.
“Come on,” he says, side stepping onwards the stairs. “If Mikasa doesn't find the scissors I'll cut it with my blade.”
“Yeah,” you say after a beat, following him up the stairs. “Okay.”
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inkagenda · 2 days ago
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do you have any fun or random hensper headcannons???
i do!!! thanks for giving me an excuse to dump some of them :)
1) jasper is very affectionate but was really surprised to find out that henry is even cornier. once they've gotten together and figured their shit out, henry goes all out. he just constantly flirts with jasper, pulling out the "i'm in a band" line and sending cringey redflix and chill memes, even though they're literally already together.
2) jasper never grew out of his bucket phase; he just started keeping it to himself because he figured no one actually cared. henry noticed this, so when he sees a random bucket, he'll point it out, or he'll pretend to have a photo of a bucket pop up on his twitflash feed, just so he can get jasper to start talking about buckets again. one time, he even bought a miniature bucket and randomly gave it to jasper to use as a pencil case, and when jasper looked all confused, henry tried to play it cool and was all like "oh, i thought you still liked buckets." (jasper did, in fact, still like buckets (he kept the pencil bucket)).
3) henry is jasper's go-to when he's freaking out (which is kind of already canon tbh). in love muffin when omar spits on jasper, henry's there with a rag and a hand on jasper's shoulder. he's reassuring jasper, saying things like "it's alright, it's not that bad, come here," which makes me believe henry is just more gentle and affectionate than anyone else when it comes to jasper, which is why he's the best at comforting jasper. other people wouldn't speak to jasper softly the way henry does or give him hugs and comforting touches.
and then there's the quiet times when jasper has to calm henry down or try to make him feel better, and jasper is incredibly good at it. except there are times where he just can't always do his best because they're currently in a time where henry has only girlfriends, and jasper is his best friend, so even though he likes henry, he's there when henry ends up between girlfriends or in an argument. and when this happens, he always ends up doing something dumb to cheer henry up, like grabbing henry's hand and playing a game of thumb war or rock, paper, scissors. so he'll take henry's hand and place it on top of his own closed fist and then goes “you win… yay!” and lets go to pump his fists in the air. it's stupid, but it always works on henry.
4) when they lived in their apartment in dystopia, grocery shopping was quite literally a game for them. they sucked at it, so they had to make it fun otherwise they wouldn't get what they needed or do it right. but the games started to get physical to the point where they'd get kicked out, so they stuck to just making puns out of brands and stuff. but then they'd get competitive and physical again, so it's now a cycle.
5) and future married-with-kids hensper is just them timing each other and seeing who can speed-run getting the kids dressed or ready for school the fastest.
and idk if this counts as a headcanon but missy had a hensper phase!! when they arrive to a new reality, and henry is suddenly dressed in a tuxedo, he's just totally confused. and ray steps inside and he's like "kid, what the hell are you doing? get out here." and then he's just standing there thinking that he's the best man at jasper's wedding, until jasper walks down the aisle, and henry realizes what's happening.
(i also have one that's kinda the opposite way. it's the same concept, except henry is pushed through the doors and is made to walk down the aisle).
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a-bad-case-of-the-stephs · 21 hours ago
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If Bruce had to choose between saving Stephanie and letting the Joker or someone else destroy Gotham, what do you think he would choose? And more importantly, what do you think Stephanie would choose?
Thanks for the ask!
The problem with putting Bruce in these impossible challenges is that it’s against the very nature of his character.
Batman is always going to try to save everyone. He’s just not going to take an action it it condemns someone else to death directly (or even indirectly). If we’re creating an impossible inescapable uncheatable death trap scenario here, which we can do, there is an answer, but just for the record, this isn’t the sort of thing that would happen, and Bruce is always going to try to save everyone. He would not just resign himself and choose someone, anyone, to die.
But for the purposes of this hypothetical, Bruce chooses to save the lives of every person in Gotham City over saving one person (assuming that’s what you mean by ‘destroy Gotham’). I don’t think it matters too much who that person is. And again, he would never make this choice willingly: you just could not make him choose to not save any life, and he again would always try to find another way. He might fail, but he’s going to try, even if doing so is illogical or ultimately pointless or risky. If it matters, Steph would want him to save Gotham over her.
Stephanie is certainly attuned to the idea of letting someone die ‘for the greater good’. Her more violent tendencies, while absolutely subdued as she becomes more experienced as a vigilante, are fueled by this feeling of righteous anger and empathy for the ‘innocent’ and victims. Steph would have a hard time choosing not to save someone who she didn’t feel this righteous anger towards, but shes more accustomed to the idea of death in the name of a greater good. I feel she would be able to make the choice much easier if the person she’s choosing not to save is a hero as opposed to a civilian.
Steph doesn’t harbor the same total opposition to any death that Batman holds, so this scenerio would be easier for her, but of course by no means easy. Also, in this scenario, if Batman sincerely believed there was literally no other way to save Gotham besides his death, Batman would have basically killed himself already. Like Steph would know Batman would want her to save Gotham over him, and Steph also would herself also want to save Gotham over one guy.
That’s my general take. As always I’m super open to other takes on the matter!
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dykedvonte · 2 months ago
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I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.
I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.
It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.
There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.
#its just like idk i dont think Curly was a bad captain because we only have this scenerio and I certainly dont think a man like Swansea#would like him or have very little issues with him specifically if he was incompentent or too lienent in the past but I do think the stress#was making him worse and worse as being a present leader as it dawned on him how much he actually had to handle like I really think he#just wanted to do yknow normal captain pilot stuff and fly the ship and yknow the little stuff like make sure things run right and over tim#the constant stress and strain of having to make every major choice started to grate on him and freak him out cause they cant even fucking#eat unless he pulls out the scanner and starts cooking like he has to choose the meal likely or have a vote and i make that part of the#reason he seems so indecisive and inactive is the fact he has to make the choice all the time and he's hoping he can at least make the crew#feel a little more in control of themselves as people by staying out of affairs like the game or disputes because god he literally has to#choose for them all the time like thats a lot of responsibility monitering their sleep their breaks food consumption thats all on him like#it really should be another persons job entirely as thats almost like absoulte contrl over the lives of everyone else that PE forces onto#that title and its also crazy how everyone accepts it even if they dont like it like they broke the food machine open rather than get the#scanner they all waited two months before Jimmy appointed himself leader its so scary how conditioned they all are to the environemnt#cause that sort of mindset is sadly real where people just wait everyone just waited until it was getting real dire and then they still#followed Jimmy without too many complaints like i saw a fic or post where Anya acknowledges they all kinda just let Jimmy do what they want#because he became the captain and it was stupid on all their parts cause they could clearly see how bad he was and yet he was captain so#they just fell in line to their roles and thats a bigger point towards how PE treated them and the complacency capitalism brings to you#just like something that irks me because idk I know Curly is slow to act but he's not as like unopinionated as people make him out to be#like he does try to find solutions but they are still restricted at the end of the day by what PE provides them and I think his biggest c#crime is being in his own head too much and not giving Anya that emotional stability cause like idk man was he supposed to go to Home Depot#himself and install like padlocks? even if the let Anya sleep in medical after she pointed it out she was already pregnant at that point#like we arent seeing the inherent issue that no one not even Anya herself was thinking of the preventative measures because a)there was a#point nothing was happening that necessitated them b) it would've been the responsibility of PE to address them pre and post incident and c#there is only one person on the entire ship given the authority to do anything. You can not make multiple important choices in one instance#in such little time and Curly should not have had that total power like i think the most interesting thing in takes that really blame Curly#is that level of control they give him over the company. Like again i think about the three days we miss between the eval/party and the#convo/crash like i think people switch them around as if those scenes happen in succession when they are broken up and its heavily implied#Curly and Jimmy just havent been talking vs the depiction that she told him and for like three days Curly was just chummy despite the fact#Jimmy and him just had a blow out fight like the next time we assume they talk is during the crash sequence cause he honestly hangs#around Anya more which i think is really important because she trust Curly to defend her himself but not his judgement to give her somethin#to defend herself as she knows he believes her but also knows she's not seeing the danger the same and its heartbreaking and more
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moregraceful · 1 month ago
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EVERYBODY SHUT UP!!!!!! PAT SIELOFF IS PREGNANT!!!!!
1. Birthday cake from Sierra and Kelly; 2. Gritty soft serve ice cream cup; 3. Sign for Erik Johnson's 1k celebration; 4. Jersey Devil Christmas tree ornament.
#just got taken very off guard by a big room remix of mozart's lacrimosa and the experience did NOT spark joy#horrible. i keep going back to the playlist it was on and listening to 30 seconds and getting mad all over again#not bc i believe in the sanctity of lacrimosa but bc i don't like it#ko and sierra aren't responding to my messages probably because they are spending quality time with family!!#but EYE do not have quality time with family. and my brain is swiss cheese from too much church#please god let him be a girl dad do not let him have a boy to put into hockey#i mean you can put the girl in hockey but we do NOT need pat sieloff jr (boy) into hockey#pat sieloff continuing proof that every single bone in your body can be broken and you have like negative muscle ligaments#but you can still be so so so so cute and happy with your wife in pictures announcing baby sieloff 🥰🥰#the weather is making me UNWELL. like physically i was not built for this weather i was built for heat not cold#BUT mentally also. please explain to me why i outlined an entire advent liturgy -- all four sundays -- based around hockey#LIKE NOBODY NEEDS A PRAYER OF CONFESSION AROUND HOCKEY#and it fucking WHIPS is the worst part. it was only an outline but if i spent more than 3 hours on it. well someone should a do wellness ch#ck is what should happen. we don't need hockey liturgy no one needs that#the thing is i am so fucking burnt out and just exhausted by all of it (<- what christmas/advent will do to a mfer) but i love#writing liturgy. it's so fun. it's like creative nonfiction#so then i was like well what if i did lent and baseball. which tracks much better yk ending the darkness and the coming light#and then i was like. interesting. what urgent tasks am i avoiding by doing all this. what medication am i not taking#white knuckling it ONE DAY LEFT OF CHURCH NONSENSE AND THEN I CAN ROT IN MY LIVING ROOM FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR#oh my god is it past midnight already i've been working on this post for like two hours and keep getting distracted#if the classical music station played ''mozart's final rave (lacrimosa)'' by oliver heldens at 7am i would certainly get out of bed :/#fresno oilers.txt
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tenwhiteandalusians · 1 month ago
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is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5
#hermes staying domitian’s hand… hermes’ face a flash of discomfort when he was torturing tenax… hmm. character growth.#WHAT WAS THAT HERMES. WHAT WAS THAT LOOK. NO GIRL GET BACK HERE I CANNOT ALSO DO THIS NARRATIVE OF YOU NO LONGER ABLE TO PULL HIM BACK FROM#THE BRINK OF HIS CRUELTY WATCHING HIM CHANGE AND SEEKING OUT SOMEONE ELSE IN HIS NEED AND FEAR AND ANGST. NO BABY GIRLLLL#I DON’T WANT TO WRITE A HERMES POINT OF VIEWWWW OF THE SIX YEARS HE SPENT WATCHING DOMITIAN BLOOMMMM INTO HIS POWER AND CORRUPTTTT because.#correct me if i’m wrong but in that very first scene that was a young hermes in the white right he watched domitian give his speech and saw#his father to truly see him the whole time as hermes has seen his brilliance.#NO I ALSO SAW THAT GUARD’S HEAD FOLLOW HERMES oh i hate it here. you know what i also hate? i need domitian to be successful for tenax#but also i do kinda like titus… NOOOOOO NO KILLING TITUS DOMITIAN I JUST SAID I LIKED HIM!!!! DOMITIAN!!!#oh. ohhhh no. OH NOOOO okay listen we can redeem this. we can have the whole turning point of the narrative be domitian’s mercy of hermes#the ultimate staying of his hand. proving he’s not entirely gone that hermes & his love still means something. do i think this will happen#no absolutely not. before he can kill his brother domitian has to kill the only other living person he loves perhaps more than titus if he#could ever realize it. (a brief interlude to yell LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO HI IRIS) domitian… please spare him… OH WAIT HELLO THE BLOOD!!#ALSO a brief interlude to say i knew it was coming but ELIA’S SPEECH ABOUT LOVING INCITATUS??? I WAS ON THIS INCITATUS SHIT WITH THE LITTLE#NOD THEY HAD WHERE SCORPUS CALLED HIM TO BEAT XENON OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!!! elia’s going to crush him. incitatus won’t listen.#scorpus is going to die twice once when they call elia’s name instead of his and then the second time when the scorpion bites him again#(he kills himself and tenax finds him. sorry to give everyone absolutely maximum damage here but uh. that’s how i can see it going down)#or alternatively worse: after killing titus who at times he loves and hates in equal measure (if y’all don’t think I have some UNHINGED#brothers quotes. we’ll keep mum here about why but suffice to say it is. relevant to other fandoms. and thus i have a Collection) the last#thing domitian has to do is kill hermes. and this one is both out of betrayal but also love because I think somewhere in here titus’ queen#berenice plays a role because domitian’s hatred of the jews probably comes to play a role and I think titus would show up and protect her#like Domitian engineers some kind of a situation where in theory titus could escape alive or beat him but he can’t do that & save berenice#and so of course he saved berenice. or she dies in his arms and he goes mad with grief and any way you put it berenice is the trap & titus#happily crawls into the lion’s mouth to save her for love of her etc and domitian sees him die for it. he gives titus every chance to come#back to him to work with him to be what he wants him to be and he always chooses himself he chooses love and domitian can’t understand even#when it makes him weak. and then he sees hermes dirty and emaciated and still terribly terribly beautiful and feels such a pang of longing#and love that he decides he has to die because he (domitian) cannot be weak. he cannot have any of it. also giving domitian worse paranoia#than he already has because if you kill your brother the one person who should always love you—support you—who can build me a new brother—#you’ve gotta generate some MAJOR issues. namely trust issues. and if he kills hermes they’ll be even worse. so like ideally To Me domitian#wouldn’t kill him but i do very much see the symbolism of cutting off his last earthly tie & desire to ascend to the divine imperial throne#those about to die
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nyan-bynary · 4 months ago
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I'm gonna have to wait out a few weeks to be able to complain about jjk's ending bc rn half the ppl are bashing everyone who expected more as ppl who just wanted gojo back
#jjk 271#like no I can read I understood that gojo was gone for good from 236 bUT we can still talk about#how a grown ass man and his grown ass friends deciding how they were at 16 was their perfect forms.#before they made all the important life changing decisions. is a regression right#like can we talk about how the narrative just glosses over geto's whole entire life after hs WHERE HE WAS A GENOCIDAL MANIAC#and pretends like no one would even side eye him about that???#that's fucking regression#you're scaling his character back bc you don't want to address the root reasonwhy he went that route#and it's perfectly fine when an author doesn't want to get too political in their work it's their right I get it#but it does make me upset where the whole entire story up until here the author has been beating us over the head with leftist messaging-#- only to throw it away and settle for a 'oh I didn't mean ACTUAL revolution or changes that would rock the boat for REAL'#bc let's face it. the conditions that made people like geto and sukuna happen are still fucking there they just skipped this generation#these kids are still going to be sent out when a special grade curse shows up and some of them are still gonna die tragically early#to put yuuji as the leader of gojo's dream is isolating and a burden on JUST YUUJI (WHY WERE THE OTHER STUDENTS NOT THERE)#to make yuuji the sole messenger of gojo's will is frankly WEIRD gojo wanted these kids to look out for one another#he had nothing to say to anyone else???#yuuji's been accidentally burdened with the weight of gojo's dream now ON HIS OWN#HE IS A KID#literally nothing's changed at the end#also see how I didn't talk about gojo on his own here bc the problems are so glaring that they shine through even side characters#WHY IS NANAMI A KID IN THE AIRPORT IS THAT THE VERSION OF HIMSELF HE WAS CONTENT WITH???#or did they all have to be aged down to match haibara even though making the choice to show the ones that lived as grown would've made it-#-more impactful#A twenty seven yr old nanami sitting next to the fifteen yr old haibara would've been soul crushing right?#also why have nanami be the only one that talks like he remembers his adulthood BUT NOT GETO#WHY TAKE AWAY SUCH A HUGE PART OF GETO#YOU COULD'VE HAD THAT BE A CONVERSATION AND HAVE PEOPLE FORGIVE HIM#the more I think about the ending the more things I find to nitpick further back too#gege I love you but please I hope you negotiate a more flexible time in your next contract I hope they don't burn you out again#bc jjk is going to be an ending which I will frankly ignore and just go with 'sukuna won and it was terrible' in my head instead
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ziracona · 2 years ago
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Iirc Griffin did something similar in Amnesty, when Aubrey succeeded on a roll that should've saved another character's life, but it didn't work and I don't think they ever explained why
Yeah!! And in Amnesty, Ned used a point of LUCK. To get a 12. That in MOTW is a guaranteed success. You do not take harm in Protect Someone if you use luck. Also, a fucking shotgun does not DO 7 points of harm anyway. It’s 3. And he fucking KILLED him. Never forgiving Griffin for that one >.>
#that’s not just cheap it’s /explicitly/ against the rules#I don’t ever like if a DM is giving ‘me vs you’ vibes to the players in any form but cheating and lying is the worst#ask#anonymous#like dgmw I love Griffin and most of the time quite enjoy his DMing but several times he has now made me /boiling/ mad#not super happy about the way he has handled Devo’s religious trauma either. like Travis is great#incredible character. he’s got some huge flaws but you also get why Devo is how he is and sometimes he’s super right. but Griffin has too#much been like ‘what if the church wasn’t so bad : )’ like Travis had to /push/ for the flashback trauma scene w Guidance to be something#upsetting and abusive. like let him have a history#taz amnesty spoilers#also not a fan of his new ‘no backstories’ thing#like yeah it can get too much or awkward but they can also be great??? you don’t want to live in them but you want them to give you a rich#basis for where the charcater in-story starts. ??? it causes no issues if you do that?#and it’s fun to occasionally have them be relevant even just for a goofy one off. I had a player be a changeling who had helped a coup in#another country and her co-revolutionary she was with and close to turned on her for racial reasons bc she was a changeling when he found ou#out and tried to kill her and they have a mutual ‘if I ever see you again’ and the experience dramatically influenced how she interacted w#other characters in the campaign bc baggage. but she never even /brought it up/ to a Pc or npc. it’s just rich character to work with#you gotta trust players and yourself a little not let having details overwhelm a story it’s not hard#and if it starts to happen it ain’t hard to correct
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