#no idea what else to add but ill come back to it
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nedsseveredhead · 2 years ago
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Okay some people wanted this and I like talking about my OCs so here goes, quick and dirty Werewolf Mafia (AKA Up The Wolves) lore so you too can put werewolfs in my fantasy hellscape.
Setting: Modern Urban Fantasy version of New York City. The werewolf mafia only runs a section of it, though they’re always looking to expand. But there aren’t just werewolves! Theres a vampire who runs a fortune telling tattoo shop! And magic! Theres even an Italian. Basically go wild. My story focuses solely on the werewolf mafia but theres a whole city to fuck up with monsters and creatures, and as a citizen of New York you have my blessing.
The Mafia: The werewolf mafia- the Bratsvo Volkov is a crime syndicate thats as old as the city itself. Currently it holds old pack hierarchy- outdated but that lends itself to Vladislav’s style of rule.
Its current head/leader/alpha is Vladislav Morozov. Hes referred to as Pakhan, the Father, or Boss and is widely feared. He lost his arm when he fought the last boss for control of the pack, but he won and has ruled over his sector of the city with an iron fist. He has done literally every evil thing you can think of. Yea even that. Hes irredeemable and awful and the main antagonist. His prosthetic is made of bronze with silver claws which he regularly uses to maim pack members who don’t properly cow to his word. He has a wife named Svetlana who is not a werewolf and has one trueborn son, Sasha, who is the second in command. He also has countless bastards, some of which he kidnaps back to become part of the pack.
Second in command is the Brigadier, Sasha Morozov. Vlad’s only trueborn son. He seems cold but is a genuinely good guy. He cares for his men, and plans on abolishing pack hierarchy when he inherits leadership from his father. (hint his father has no intention of ever handing it over to him)
Mishi Sadovski (Lazutchik, the Living Shadow) and Dmitri Raskolnikov (Shestyorka, the omega) are sorta special cases. Mishi was the former Brigadier but he challenged Vladislav and when he lost the fight, he was brutally punished and cast to the lowest rung of the ladder. Dmitri is the debt collector, and perpetual punching bag of the pack. Mishi is one of Vlad’s many bastard children, something he does not know but Sasha does. Main characters. They aim to take down Vlad somehow.
Mafia territory is divided into blocks with teams of two or three packmembers having control over that sector. Dmitri and Mishi, for example, have control over a block with Dmitri’s church- territory he fought hard for so he could keep them and the orphanage he grew up in safe from the rest of the gang’s influence. But there are other blocks, and Vlad is constantly trying to gain more as he grows the pack. His goal is to own the whole city, one day.
The Wolves: Theres basically two ‘types’ of werewolves- those born and those turned. Born werewolves (referred to by Vlad as Trueborn or Purebred) look near indistinguishable from regular humans, save for sharper teeth. Their canine form is more traditional wolven, and they do not have to change during a fullmoon. Turned werewolves (referred to as Mutts) have a harder time blending in. Their ears take a slightly pointed appearance, and their bodies are constantly fighting their condition making their turning a bit more difficult and painful. They have to turn on a fullmoon, and their canine form resembles a dog more than their born packmates. Any drop of werewolf lineage, whether turned or bred, has the chance of producing werewolf offspring- but its still only a chance no matter what. Born werewolves could have siblings who are completely mortal. Known ‘purebred’ werewolves are Mishi and Sasha, known ‘mutts’ are Dmitri and (suprisingly) Vladislav.
Thats all i can think of right now. If theres any questions lemme know thank you *mwah*
( @numbaoneflaya @tamaslin @orangejuiceandopium since you guys specifically were eyes emojiing me 💕)
*writes up a lore doc so people make Werewolf Mafia ocs*
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saintobio · 8 months ago
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sincerely yours. (10)
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↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 
tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,
notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3
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series masterlist -> episode eleven
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“It’s a little weird.”
What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming. 
She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be. 
Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now? 
If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place? 
She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you. 
But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life? 
Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all. 
Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that? 
“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”
“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”
The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”
I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?” 
“Was he like that with you before?” 
“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”
To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty. 
“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.” 
Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.
“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”
“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point. 
Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?” 
The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.” 
“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”
The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.” 
Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”
“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”
“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.” 
He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.” 
As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet. 
The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.  
Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”
Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”
“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused. 
To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?” 
Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons. 
Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare. 
— —
You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction. 
To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.
You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband? 
She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married. 
Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.
Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else. 
Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.
If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.
Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu. 
You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal. 
It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her. 
As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman. 
And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong. 
Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.
Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own. 
Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.
If only you could be like her. 
As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.
“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.” 
A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?
“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse. 
“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”
Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line. 
“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots. 
The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.” 
Oh… “He bought more than one?” 
Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony. 
“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”
Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.  
This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi. 
There was no you in that vision anymore. 
The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.
You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband? 
Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one. 
At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free. 
Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them. 
You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest. 
Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?
“Giddy up!” 
Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.
My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy. 
Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.  
“Ah!” 
Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part. 
“Willow!” 
You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.
“Nooo! Willow, no!”
Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.
You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell. 
“Willow!” 
Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness! 
You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all. 
That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon. 
— —
“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.
“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”
He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”
“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”
“Y/N?”
“Y/N!”
“Are you out of your mind?!” 
You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.
“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”
“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”
“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!” 
“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!” 
The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension. 
“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.” 
You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”
Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you. 
With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.” 
To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place. 
“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.” 
Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy. 
“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?” 
There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.
But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat. 
Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.
“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.” 
Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.” 
“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”
“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…” 
Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest. 
“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.” 
Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind. 
It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right? 
You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again. 
You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself. 
As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. ���Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.” 
That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever? 
Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy. 
The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital. 
So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you? 
“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed. 
Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.” 
You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son. 
Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?
If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined. 
And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse. 
Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself? 
The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage. 
You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family. 
Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight. 
“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.” 
You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?” 
The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it. 
“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.” 
Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else. 
Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired. 
“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?” 
She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.” 
“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?” 
“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.” 
You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists. 
Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there. 
And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi. 
“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”
You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera? 
You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet. 
“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.” 
Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.” 
Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life. 
Both choices had no happy endings. 
— —
When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind. 
Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were? 
He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse. 
“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!” 
“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?” 
Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him? 
According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them. 
And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you. 
Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in. 
How sickeningly sweet. 
At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality. 
It was out of love that he let you go. 
You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too. 
Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife. 
You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore. 
So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses? 
She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you. 
He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off. 
And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries. 
This woman was all he needed. 
But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider. 
— —
The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important. 
Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it? 
You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman. 
Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you. 
How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it? 
Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar. 
How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life? 
Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate? 
God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third? 
You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing. 
“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions. 
It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him. 
“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”
Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you? 
“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.” 
Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.
“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”
You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget? 
As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?” 
“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart.  “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.” 
“Y/N.”
“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”
“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.” 
“But—”
“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”
— —
It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore. 
Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now. 
He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway. 
As for you, well… 
“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?” 
He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”
Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire. 
These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor. 
A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon? 
Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news. 
“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.” 
Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?” 
By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy. 
“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son. 
“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.” 
Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?” 
Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.” 
Monaco? Why would you be there?
Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?” 
“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”
No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself? 
Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here. 
Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth. 
“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?
“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”
How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over? 
“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”
Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now? 
Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces? 
Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.” 
He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.
Yet none of it was given. 
And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi? 
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ladybirdswritings · 7 months ago
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sweet thing - dbf!joel miller x reader
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Summary: Your life is in disarray. Your father is overbearing, your boyfriend is unkind— and blooming into adulthood is just about the most difficult season you’ve braved. Things only become more complex when feelings begin to develop between you and an old friend of your fathers. DBF!Joel Miller (dad’s best friend). Alternate universe as well, there is NO APOCALYPSE.
Notes: Girl I have been radio silent but this picture awoke me from my slumber because oh my God??? Look at this beautiful, haunted man. Pls enjoy the ideas that came from this still. Idk how well this will do but if u guys enjoy, lmk (I LOVE comments / interactions) and I will add to it <3
A03 | masterlist
sweet thing…
Your father did the best he could. You knew that very well. Charlie was a man respected and adored by his humble community. A hard working father turned single parent when your mom fell ill and god— you were his little flower. His sweet thing. His angel.
Flowers are fragile, though. Gentle, moldable petals and stiff, snappable stems.
It is why he kept you so close to him, so prized like painted porcelain just ready to crack.
It is why you were here. Here at Jackson’s golden hued dance with more powdered, jam-filled pastries and red, roasted meats then you could count on one hand. Here. Instead of the alternative option which was the party your boyfriend decided to attend without you.
You got the invite, sure, yet even as a legal adult— what daddy says? Goes. So long as you remain under his roof, at least. It was infuriating, though. The freedom of all your dear friends, the spontaneity. If only that could be you…
Your eyes drifted to the moustached sponge of all fun and joy in the world, wrapped in a flannel with bourbon in hand. Your dad was seated next to Joel, as he often was. His presence was a newfound thing for these recent years and though Joel would never say it, you had an inkling that he wanted to stand by his friend’s side after your mother… well.
You didn’t know Joel well. No, not at all. His visits were always the occasional dinner or drop in for fishing or some awfully manly thing. You knew well that your mother adored him, though— so that was enough to make him alright in your book.
Neighbor Betsy told you once that Joel had lost his wife and daughter too, and that maybe he was trying to keep your father from going through what he went through alone.
You only laughed at that.
Joel Miller was gruff and cold. Could he have such a warm heart beneath his sherpa coat?
You dazed out, the fingers snapping in front of your eyes made you blink back into the golden hues and roasted sausages on pointy little sticks.
“You alright, honeybee?” Your father asked, laying a heavy arm upon your shoulders. Joel was slower in his approach, eyeing you up and down with confusion and something else in his eyes.
“Peachy.” You only muttered, taking a sip of your freshly squeezed lemonade. Jackson’s finest.
“Oh come on now angel… now you know I can’t have you runnin’ off with that boyfriend of yours. I always told you he was trouble. Member’ when he ditched you down by Church Road during mosquito season? Well you were ripe as a red tomater and who had to pick you up?”
You were riper, redder now. Your cheeks an embarrassed hue not even on the color wheel, not even identifiable. You bowed your head, huffing out your frustrations before simply muttering: “you did, dad.”
He nodded proud, squeezing your shoulder. “That’s right, I did… what?”
Your eyes drifted up to see your father’s oldest friend with an odd kind of expression on his face. Brows pinched and raised, wrinkles plaguing his forehead deeper now.
Joel only cleared his throat, shifting on his boots and taking a sip of his bourbon in preparation. Then? He spoke.
“You ain’t lettin’ her be.” He gruffly offered, eyes set and sure. Your father only stilled for a moment, wondering if it was even Joel’s place to have an opinion… maybe it was.
“Why’s that?” He asked Joel, and the rough looking man only took another swig.
“Mm. We were both young once. We both made mistakes, y’gotta let her make her own— can’t hide her from em’. Just ain’t how it works.”
Poppies blossomed like springtime had finally begun in your eyes. Finally— someone understood. You didn’t expect him to be so… wise?
Your father only huffed, taking a long glance your way as he mused.
“Even if I wanted to loosen the leash tonight, Joel, I can’t. Maria needs me here to keep an eye on crazy old Arthur.”
Joel’s brows relaxed at that, a purpled hand running along the zipper of his flannel coat. His eyes were a chocolate kind of brown, dark and quietly encasing his thoughts within them.
He hummed, gaze drifting back to you.
You wanted to shrink. Perhaps it was because you were on the spot, perhaps it was because the way he stared would make anyone feel small.
It seemed like centuries before he cleared his throat again.
“I’ll take her.”
What?
You didn’t understand it, not one bit. Why was he kind enough to offer you an out here? Kind enough to test your father’s words.
Discomfort radiated through your father’s coat, tension molding its way into his already stiff bones. A long sigh, a glance back and forth as he truly considered. His expression was far too plagued with worry, and you knew well that it was now or never.
You had to slam down the last nail in the oak wood coffin.
“Please, daddy? I’ll check in every half hour, I promise.”
Tension eased, slightly but— still. Your eyes were doe-like and sweet, and he gazed into them for a moment far too long before allowing his arm to drop.
“Every fifteen minutes and you’ve got a deal. Miller, you make sure my daughter gets in and out of that bastard’s house safely.”
Joel only nodded once, jaw tense and expression stoic. Your grin was wider than a field of flowers, and you immediately wrapped your father in a hug. Your thank yous seemed endless, and it made him laugh.
When you parted, Joel had keys grasped in his rough hands. You realized for a moment that you had no idea why he was doing this. What did he owe you? Maybe it was pity. You were half an orphan, after all.
With a cautious glance, your eyes met his own. He nodded once as if to urge you closer, and you stumbled his way. Before you knew it? You were out the door, trailing behind him like his shadow.
Of all the people who cared enough to convince your father to let you go to this party tonight? Joel Miller was the last person you expected it to be…
¿to be continued?
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jyoongim · 8 months ago
Note
I'm sorry to add to your likely ever growing list of requests but may I pitch an idea:
Alastor absolutely head over heals for a married reader, but since his mama raised him right he'd never make a real move. He's sure he can show you he's sooo much better anyway, and you'd leave your husband for him eventually.
BUT then his rut hits and the chivalry goes out the window no matter how hard he tries to stay sane and he just NEEDS reader right NOW, wedding ring be damned.
Title: UNWILLINGLY YOURS❤️‍🔥
Part 2!
warning: Reader is married! Non-con sex (I DIDNT EVEN KNOW I COULD WRITE THIS????) possessive, jealous, obsessive behaviors, one-sided pining, breeding kink/impregnantion, Al is a homewrecker!!!, husband is a sweet bean!, rough sex, creampie, marriage guilt
Let me know if I’m missing something!!
———————————————————————
You were a constant face in Cannibal Town. You often helped Rosie at her Emporium, helping her sell her goodies, have a good chat, and help those who come to see the female Overlord.
You could often be found in an apron splattered in blood with a sharp grin on your face.
Alastor found you adoring. He thought you were the sweetest thing that ever graced Hell.
So imagine the way his shadow simmered when he saw a wedding ring shining on your finger…
The Overlord’s eyes narrowed when he saw your husband would come in, greeting Rosie and before the sinner could locate you, you were chirping happily as you jumped into his arms, dragging the man to taste what you had been cooking.
He knew it wasn’t right.
To lust after a taken woman.
But seven hells were you beautiful.
You considered Alastor a friend. You were oblivious to his flirting and often thought he was just teasing.
He was a well-mannered demon and the two of you had a lot in common.
He deemed himself the better man.
Your husband was average. Alastor couldnt understand why you married him.
You needed someone strong and powerful. 
Someone who would worship the ground you walked on.
Someone who would worship you like you deserved.
You deserved to be spoiled, having things at your disposal at just a glance.
Alastor could give you all of those things if you just said the word.
If you would just leave your husband…..the world could be yours.
But all the gifts, flowers, and dates didnt seem to get through your head.
You kindly reminded the deer that you were married and you adored your spouse, but you gave him your appreciation in his efforts.
So like a gentleman, Alastor backed down. If you truly loved your husband than who was he to mess up a happy home?
But that desire to have you all to himself never went away.
You suited Alastor.
Your manners,personality, interests…
You were his perfect standard.
But you were already someone else’s.
But Alastor could wait…
————————————————————————
“Rosie I haven’t seen Alastor around, he hasn’t fall ill has he?” You asked the tall woman worriedly.
Rosie waved a dismissive hand “Oh he’s fine dear. he always goes into hiding every now and again. Probably just busy at that hotel of his”
You tugged your lips, the treat you had been making was one of the red demon’s favorite.
Maybe you should go and check on him?
After all…He was your friend.
”Im gonna take him some treats. I just want to check up on him.”
You knocked on the double doors of the hotel and waited.
You knocked again.
You heard some shuffling and then the door opened.
”What are you doing this way darlin?” 
You smiled softly seeing Alastor, holding up the goodies
”Hadn’t seen you in a while and was just worried that’s all. I was making these and know how much you love em”
The overlord let you in and you took in the hotel lobby.
It certainly had character.
You noticed Alastor hadn’t moved from the door and instead was staring at you. You tilted your head “You look like you wanna eat me Al” You wiggled your tail at him, smirking playfully
“But I doubt ill taste as good as these goodies I worked so hard on”
That seemed to snap him out of it as he cleared his throat, he escorted you to the radio tower.
Alastor was losing it.
His rut had came sooner than he anticipated and he has locked himself away until he had control over himself.
All he could think about was you.
And how you would look covered in his cum.
Covered? No that would be a waste…but if you were filled that was a different story.
Everyone had went out on some activity Charlie had planned so Alastor was holding the fort.
He had been stroking his cock, fisting the raging organ until it was pulsing and leaking. He had been thinking of you, the object of his affections and desires.
On your knees and begging to suck him.
He could feel an orgasm readying to erupt when a knock at the door interrupted his fantasy.
He growled and stomped to the front door when a familiar scent caught his nose.
You.
You were here.
Making sure he was okay.
You had been worried about him and even made him a snack.
Oh what a sweet thing you were.
If only you were his wife.
Alastor let you in, eyes raking over your figure as you looked around the hotel.
Eyes settling on the sway of your hips, before he heard your voice breakthrough the fog of desire.
”You look like you wanna eat me” you giggled.
 You were being playful. 
He knew that. 
But when you wiggled your backside, flickering your tail that set him off.
He was on you faster than you could blink, hands settling on your plush hips. His lips skimmed your ear “You would be even sweeter than these treats you’ve made.”
You shivered, trying to shrug him off “You’re just saying that”
Alastor chuckled as he nuzzled you, teeth nipping at your shoulder
”Oh I’d never lie about you darlin”
Your cheeks flushed and you went to move away from him when he pressed his hips against yours.
”A-Al?”
He growled against your ear, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him.
”You dont understand the effect you have on me my dear. It is taking everything in me to not have my way with you” 
You tried to jerk away from him, but he held fast, a soft frown showing on your face.
”Alastor… t-this i-is inappropriate Im..you know I’m married”
The second the word slipped from your lips Alastor let out a feral growl, twirling you around to face him.
His eyes were black and pupils narrowed as he bared his teeth at you.
”That is irrelevant to me dear. You think I care of your bond to that pathetic excuse of a man?”
You went to hiss at him. 
Bared your fangs and defended your marriage.
But Alastor found your anger to be his tipping point as he slammed his lips onto yours, catching you off guard.
Your eyes widened and you gasped subconsciously, making the red demon lean into you, swallowing the soft protests and whines you let out.
”A-Alastor..N-No I can’t…” you pulled away pushing against him, but the male didnt let you get away.
He sought after your lips, wanting to have his tongue down your throat. Sweet poisoned words spilled from his lips as he pressed you into his chest. 
“You’ll have to indulge me my dear. Youve been plaguing my mind for a while now and while I despise your husband, I respected you to give you space…”
A large hand wrapped around your neck, tightening. He tilted his head at you “However…you have approached me while I’m in season and reason have been slipping.”
In season? Your head was reeling. The fuck was he talking about… Oh!
Alastor had deer features… he…he was…
”What will your dear husband think when I send you back to him filled with my cum?” Alastor purred snapping you out of your thoughts.
You blinked, taking a step back, but he followed you.
You were pressed into a wall before you melted into the wall and found your back on a soft surface.
Alastor was on top of you, claws digging in your clothing; a rip met your ears and the cool air had you covering yourself.
“Alastor!” You yelped. The red demon grabbed at your hands, revealing your bare body to him.
Skin smooth like butter and free of marks. Your ample breasts were full and round, rising and falling with your rapid breathing.
His large hands kneaded the mounds, pinching and tweaking the soft peaks. His eyes roamed your soft stomach that was littered in stretch marks and slightly rounded, filtering into wide hips.
Satan you would look lovely carry his spawns.
“Al please! Let me go. I-Ill forget all about this incident and we can just pretend it never happened.” You placed your hands over his to slowly move them off your chest, he didnt protest.
 You knew Alastor. 
He wouldnt hurt you
His brain was just all twisted from hormones, he'll gain some sense.
Your breath caught when he pressed his nose against your heat.
Your thighs vibrated as a purr radiated through his chest.
”Such a sweet cunt” he mused, inhaling your scent.
“A-Al dont…i-I’m…I’m pregnant” you pleaded, trying to close your legs around his head and softly pushing him away from your intimate region.
Alastor stiffened at your words.
His eyes snapped to yours and then to your stomach.
Anger boiled inside him.
Pregnant? How dare someone-
“I-I wont tell my husband. We can just pretend this didnt happen. Just stop now and ill go” you tried to reason with the demon.
His eyes narrowed as a vicious growl ripped through his throat
Your husband…that’s right you weren’t his. You were married.
But he could fix that problem.
Alastor’s cock twitched at the thought.
”Oooh my dear that’s alright” he grinned up at you as he teased your slit. He lowered his head back between your legs
”Afterall…I would love to see you carrying my fawns”
Your eyes widened and before you could question him, Alastor sucked your clit into his mouth.
A ragged cry tore from your lips as the red demon lapped at your cunt. ”A-Al-lastor!”
Alastor swallowed the nectar that began to flow. 
You tasted better than he imagined.
Sweeter than honey.
He groaned as he pushed his tongue into your velvet walls, twirling and swirling to lap every drop your cunt produced.
You were trying to wiggle your hips away from him, but Alastor held your hips steady, nipping at your clit in warning.
Oh your husband had no idea of the treasure he had Alastor thought flicking your clit with his tongue. 
Such a perfect cunt.
Your soft groans of protests were music to his ears.
Suck. Lick. Flick. Repeat
Alastor tortured your poor puffy clit until your hips shuddered and rolling against his tongue. He moaned latching onto your cunt as you cried out, your nectar exploding into his mouth.
You panted as your heart thumped in your chest, feeling your body buzz as you floated.You took a deep breath maybe this was enough. Maybe he would let you go home.
You felt his kiss around your inner thighs and lick one final stripe up your slit, before moving his head from between your thighs.
Hes satisfied now…go-good…now to-
A heavy weight slapped against your thigh making you tense as you looked up at Alastor with horror in your eyes.
Tears welled in your eyes as a sob bubbled in your throat “N-no…no no no no no no!” Alastor’s hands cupped your cheeks as he tried to comfort your pleas, using his knees to widen your thighs.
”Its okay darling” he licked your wet cheek “You were such a good girl for me such a good girl” you felt him pepper your face in soft kisses. You pushed at his broad chest, hands pushing at anything you could shove, you shook your head in denial as he trapped you underneath him “Im pregnant! Y-You can’t! Please dont” You sobbed.
Alastor hissed, that jealous feeling rearing  “yeesss pregnant your husband must be so happy” you gasped as he pushed both your thighs to your chest, keeping them spread to expose your cunt and no pressure on your soft bump.
His cock stroked your cunt, angry red tip leaking as he rubbed against you.
“Your husband dont deserve you. You should be with a man who is feared and respected. Will worship you and the ground you walk…” He purred when his mushroom tip caught your clit
“Who can bring you to the peak of pleasure easily” 
Using his weight to hold your legs, he wiped the tears that streaked down your face, before slipping a hand between you.
“Al…N-no! AH!” The cry didnt even fully leave your lips when Alastor slotted his lips on yours as his hips slammed against yours, cock breaching your gummy walls, stretching.
Alastor’s antlers grew when he felt your cunt squeeze around him, he pulled his hips back and pushed back in, groaning into your mouth when your walls gave way to him.
He chuckled against your lips.
Oh you were divine…
No way was he letting you go…
————————————————————————
“Oh that’s my good girl yeeesss I knew you’ll be good for me”
Alastor rasped as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, hips ramming into yours.
You couldnt even acknowledge his praise as he fucked you.
You felt numb.
dirty.
You had broken your wedding vows to your husband.
”You take my cock so well, knew you would. Such a sweet cunt.”
Alastor fucked your pussy like it was his.
Your body covered in love bites, sweat, and cum.
so much cum.
Alastor had emptied rope after rope of creamy cum inside you, filling you up til it pooled under your ass.
“You’ll look so pretty carrying my spawns doll. You take my cum well…fuck! Baby that’s right milk this cock take my cum take it fuck!”
Your back arched and a soft mewl left your lips.
He let out a low hiss as he slotted his hips against yours, cock twitching as your cunt fluttered and clenched around him, releasing another load of cum inside your womb.
Your thighs shook as he thrusted against you softly.
Alastor whispered sweet praises and affections against your skin.
”you take me so well”
”sweet cunt and its all mine”
He pulled out of you with a wet pop and yours flopped, a steady stream of cream dripping from your abused hole.
He licked from your neck to your hair, purring 
”that’s my girl”
Your body finally had enough and your vision went dark.
—————————————————————————————
“Honey you had me so worried! Thanks for bringing her home Alastor” your husband said appreciatively to the red demon, who smiled at the man. Your husband kissed your cheek as you walked through the door, he looked you over “Why dont you head to bed hmmm? You seem tired”
Alastor smiled wickedly “Yes do get your rest dear. Wouldnt want to faint again”
Your husband thanked the Overlord for bringing you home and as you turned to head upstairs, you heard him say to your husband
”Congratulations to you both by the way. Shell make a fine mother” you paused slightly before heading continuing up the stairs. Your husband laughed and thanked him again.
But before the door closed, Alastor watched as your husband ran behind you, you offered him a small smile that didnt meet your lips. As the man pulled you into a kiss, not seeing the tear that ran down your cheek. Your husband tried to palm your ass, but you quickly grabbed his hand.
His eyes followed the two of you going upstairs.
Alastor smirked watching a stream of cum run down your leg.
Yes congratulations indeed.
——————————————————————————
Part 2 is linked and posted!
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parkerslatte · 8 months ago
Text
Unspoken
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Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: mentions of Beron’s torture. mentions of nightmares.
Summary: Eris had been in love with his best friend for centuries. After a long, tiring day of his duties as High Lord, he just wants to sleep. But he would rather listen to Y/N talk to him more.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
The moment Eris entered his own private chambers, he immediately shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. Next were his shoes, he kicked those from his feet and dragged himself to his large bed in the centre of the room. When he was near it, he allowed himself to fall, landing on the soft mattress and pillows. He always knew that being High Lord would be time consuming. But he hadn’t realised how long he would need to be on his feet all day. Eris was sure that he had only been allowed five minutes to rest his feet before he was demanded somewhere else. All he wanted was rest.
Eris closed his eyes and begged his body to drift off to sleep. Of course nothing came of it. Despite the fact that his father was dead, killed by his own two hands, Eris could never fully settle. Afraid that if he closed his eyes, his father would rise from the shallow grave Eris buried him in and come after him. For months, Eris was constantly plagued by that nightmare, his only reprieve from it was–
“Eris!” A voice called through the door. “Are you in there?”
A soft smile fell upon Eris’s face. “Yes, my dear.”
The door was pushed open and in walked Y/N, Eris’s best friend for the past few centuries. Since becoming High Lord, Eris had finally allowed her to enter his chambers for the first time. Always wanting to keep her out in case his father ever got the wrong idea and would use her to make him obedient. Now he had a hard time keeping her out of his chambers. She always demanded that they were much nicer than hers. 
“You will simply not believe the day I have had!” Y/N exclaimed, falling next to him on the bed. 
Eris moved to lay comfortably on his back and turned his head to look at Y/N. Her hair was simply a mess, sticking up in nearly every direction. Eris chuckled at the sight. “Tell me about it.”
Y/N huffed. “Well when I got to the shop, there was a vile woman already waiting outside demanding to be let in, insisting that the shop hadn’t opened on time. Even though I had written a note, with large bold letters I may add, fixed to the front door that explained that I would be opening an hour later than usual.”
“She sounds awful,” Eris commented.
“That’s not all!” Y/N exclaimed. “When I let her in, she said that the bread I baked was not fresh enough, even though I put an enchantment on it to make sure that it was, and demanded that I make a fresh batch just for her. I don’t have the time for that! I am the only one working at the bakery and there was a large line forming.”
“What did you tell her?” Eris asked.
He had now turned on his side and watched as Y/N told her story, her hand gesturing wildly. Ever since he had met her when she worked as a chef in the kitchens, he had always loved the way she emphasises her speech with her hands. Often when people noticed it she would try to stop, but not around Eris. Never around Eris.
Eris knew that their friendship was unexpected, he hadn’t expected it himself. But after she was sent by his mother to give him food when he was extremely ill, Eris had simply loved her since then. She never cowered away when he glared at her and tried to intimidate her. She never backed away when he spoke cruel words about her job and her station. She didn’t even leave when he dismissed her. She had stayed and asked him what was the matter and that was when the facade Eris constantly had up vanished. No one had ever asked him that before. The softness in her voice, the understanding. It was something Eris had never experienced. 
After that it was always quick yet playful glances in corridors. The occasional nudge when brushing past one another. And when Eris had endured another beating from his father, he would make his way to the kitchens. And remain with her. Those few days after the beatings, Beron never expected Eris to make an appearance anywhere so he could be in the servants quarters without the threat of his father coming after him.
Eris remembered the first night he had spent with her. They had only known each other for a few months by that point so Eris hesitated before knocking on her door. He knew that she had a room to herself, it was the size of a shoebox but Y/N was grateful for her own space. When Y/N brought him inside and cleaned the wounds on his back, Eris finally allowed himself to break down for the first time in a long time. Y/N only held onto him, soothing him, as he cried and let everything out. Not once did she complain. 
Even when he fell asleep in her arms, Y/N did not complain, she only held him closer. That following morning, Y/N never made him leave, she simply stayed with him the whole day. She took his mind off everything. She made him smile. She made him laugh for the first time in years. It was so easy to fall in love with her. 
And he was still in love with her. Even after a few hundred years. 
“Eris?” Y/N said, nudging his arm. “Are you still listening?”
Eris smiled. “Yes, I’m still listening. What did you tell her?”
Y/N laughed. “Well first I threw the bread at her and told her to stick it up her–”
“Y/N,” Eris said, laughing loud. “You are going to lose customers.”
“I’ll be glad to lose her,” Y/N said. “She was a prick.”
Eris continued to chuckle as Y/N turned onto her side facing him. His hand twitched to reach out and pull her against his chest. It was all he wanted to do. 
“Why would you burden me with running a whole bakery?” Y/N questioned.
Eris rolled his eyes. “I did not burden you. I remember you begging me to buy the building when it was planned to be torn down. And I keep suggesting that you hire more people but you never listen.”
“Isn’t that your job?” Y/N questioned. “Since you bought the building?”
“I gave ownership to you,” Eris said. “It is legally your business and, therefore, your job to hire people.”
Y/N sighed. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business where other people depend on me. The thought terrifies me. And what if they don’t like me, what then?”
“It would be impossible,” Eris stated.
“Me as someone’s boss? Because I agree.”
“No,” Eris said, his voice soft. “People not liking you. You are impossible not to like.”
Something flashed across Y/N’s eyes but it was gone before Eris could even place the emotion. 
“You mean that?” Y/N asked.
“Of course I do,” Eris said, swallowing hard. “You are the easiest person to like.”
It is why I fell in love with you, Eris thought. The words he was never brave enough to say. 
Y/N smiled and Eris swore his heart skipped a beat. “Thank you Eris.” Her tone was sincere and far from her usual light hearted and playful tone.
“I could always help you,” Eris said. “In the bakery.”
“Eris, you have enough duties here. You already look ready to pass out and the sun hasn’t even gone down,” Y/N said. “And why would you want to spend any more time with me than you already are? I’m sure you are sick of me already.”
“I could never be sick of you,” Eris said. “You are my best friend, Y/N. I will always want you around.”
Best friend. Those two words Eris hated. Y/N was more than his best friend. She was the light of his life. The reason he woke every morning. The reason he breathed. She was a part of his soul even if she didn’t know it. Eris was so inexplicably in love with her that nothing else mattered when he was with her. 
Something akin to disappointment flashed on Y/N’s face before it was gone in an instant. “Well you are my best friend too, Eris.”
Eris forced a smile upon his face. She was laying next to him on his bed, yet she still felt so far away. 
“I should be letting you rest, I can tell that you have had a long day,” Y/N said. “I don’t think you want me bombarding you with stories from work.”
“I enjoy your stories.” Eris’s voice was quiet and pleading. Pleading with her to stay for just a moment longer. 
The smile on Y/N’s face was small but Eris wanted it tattooed onto his brain. “Perhaps tomorrow,” Y/N said.
Disappointment surged through Eris as his hope subsided. Y/N leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “I will see you tomorrow Eris.”
“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Eris replied, his voice unusually quiet. 
Y/N slipped from his bed and left the room and left Eris alone once more. The silence was almost deafening. If it weren't from the heat on his cheek from where Y/N had kissed him, Eris was sure he would go insane.
Eris did not even bother to chance into more comfortable clothes, he didn’t even bother to get under his covers. All he did was pull his pillow closer and close his eyes, his mind filled with images of Y/N before drifting off to a dreamless sleep.
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underoospeterparker · 10 months ago
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hi love! sending request for james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (fluff please!). where they went to their dorms after their first date, on which reader kissed him and he just turns red, kicking his feet and tells the marauders all the details with sparkles in his eyes and reader heard it all (because he was screaming, giggling) & he's so bewitched by laufey coded 🙏🏻💓
love this idea! thank you for requesting my love
james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader
"Thank you for today," you said to James as the two of you walked back to the common room. You gave him a soft smile. "It was fun."
He returned the smile. "It was?" he replied, a smug grin on his face. "Well, then, maybe you should let me-"
You interrupted, leaning in, partly because you wanted to wipe the smug look off his face, and partly because you just wanted to. You kissed him, and the look of shock on his face all but dissolved as he cupped your face, deepening the kiss until it was all you could think about, all you could feel.
You had to come up for air sometime, and you sighed when you did, forehead resting on his. "Goodnight, Jamie," you murmured, turning away to your dorm. And James, for once, had absolutely no words.
Later, you were climbing down the stairs from the girls dormitory when you heard James's voice. Before you could stop yourself, you hid behind a wall and listened.
"Remus," his voice was ecstatic, "Sirius, she kissed me!"
The two of James's friends looked half amused and half annoyed. "She did what?" Sirius asked, sarcasm evident in his voice. "It's not like you haven't been telling us this for the past hour, Prongs."
James rolled his eyes in response, but his eyes sparkled. "She kissed me," he murmured again, huge smile on his face.
"Is he okay?" Remus whispered to Sirius, loud enough for James to hear. "Sounds like he's got a mental illness."
Sirius laughed. "Yeah, no, he's definitely not okay."
"I just got kissed," James perked up, "by the girl I've had a crush on for years. I'm not allowed to be excited?"
You took this moment to move yourself from the wall, walking down the stairs towards the common room, where the marauders were sitting.
James grinned when he saw you. "Hi, Jamie," you said, leaning over him to give him a kiss.
"Hey, sweetheart."
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olderthannetfic · 2 months ago
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I accidentally killed my own desire to write, and I need some advice. To be really blunt about it, what's the point of writing? When I would spend lots of time laboring over making a good story with a plot and characters who were in-character and connecting all the dots narratively so payoffs were satisfying, my reward was dead silence and virtually no clicks. I posted some mindless smut to my side account one day and got more hits in a day than most of my other works combined got in a year. I know, I know. "Write for ~*~yourself~*~" is the common response. It's the "be yourself!" of writing. It's supposed to be a magical phrase that'll make everything okay. But... I don't like knowing that something I spend months working on won't be read by anyone while something I write in a car while bored got thousands of clicks. I don't like making something I'm proud of and then no one ever looks at it. That's not fun for me. It's not fulfilling.
For a solid decade, I've tried to ignore how the level of interactivity in fandom is falling. Fewer comments. Fewer kudos. No comments in the bookmarks. You put your tumblr and Discord in the AN and get a handful of asks and one person who adds you, talks to you twice and then ghosts you. Most of the comments are "well, actuallys", made even more annoying by them being wrong as opposed to actually correcting an error. I avoid fandom drama, wank, and infighting. I don't engage with things I know will make me unhappy. I try to be happy over in my own little corner. I comment on every single work I read. I want people to enjoy fandom. I used to.
Some dumb smut I wrote in 40 minutes gets five times the hits of the writing I'm most proud of, and it gets it in just under three months. I am not a great smut writer. I haven't stumbled onto an incredible talent I had that makes it so the issue is that I'm so amazing my smut brings all the boys to the yard. People just don't like what I write and put effort into. It's very likely that despite 20 years of writing fic, I suck at writing. And people enjoy my writing most when they don't have to put up with anything substantial and can just skip to the sex.
So for the last eight months, when I write, I just sort of give up. Close the Word doc without saving. No one will read this. No one cares about this. There is no fan eagerly awaiting every update like I await updates from my favorite authors. There's not even someone saying, "update soon!" Close the Word doc. Delete old WIPs. There's no point. I do not tell stories worth reading. I used to. In the FFN days people genuinely enjoyed my work. I'd never have had an opportunity to do the 'I won't update until I get 3 reviews' thing because getting that many on a chapter was usually something I'd do overnight. Post before bed. Wake up. Read the reviews before school. I peaked in high school, I guess.
And now I'm just sort of lost. I still have lots of ideas. Ideas for fics fall into my head all the time. That's never been a problem. What I don't have is any motivation to write them. What's the point of writing? If no one else is reading, I guess the point would be so I could go back and read my own story and have fun with it. Write for myself. But I can review the story and have fun with it in my head without writing it down. It's substantially faster and more importantly, isn't incredibly depressing.
So, at the risk of definitely being calld the second-coming of True Art Anon or a troll or validation-seeking or haha mentally ill haha... what's the point of writing?
--
Okay, so write porn in a car while you're bored.
Look, you can whine all you want about my response, but what you've written here is blatantly about depression.
Lots of people in fandom are still interacting. And no, it isn't just on fics that are objectively written to some pro fiction standard or whatever. Teenagers still breathlessly review poorly spelled cracky masterpieces about this year's big anime and so forth.
Yes, there may be reasons why you in particular are in a slump when it comes to fandom friendships or "plz update" comments. We can talk about that. But this ask is all gloom about fandom in general. That's not realism: that's you having a problem.
--
As for why a person should write: because the actual hours you spend doing the writing are fun.
If they aren't pleasurable in some way, find another hobby.
--
But if you want an answer to the age old "Why did my 5 minute fic get 1000000x more asspats", I've seen meta about this for literally decades.
The most likely reason is that the fic we write quickly and without much thought often feels fresher and more fun. The things we labor over endlessly can feel overworked. Even in cases where they don't, they're often heavier subject matter or more niche subject matter. On top of all that, we just care more, so even a high level of feedback doesn't really feel like enough for the effort and care we put in.
--
Do you really need me to tell you why you don't feel the same as in high school when things were fresh and new?
Go read up on combatting burnout or dealing with post-college anxiety or managing stress in a dead-end job in your 30s or finding meaning in your 40s or whatever is going on.
Everyone goes through fallow periods in fandom and in life.
Feeling reinvigorated has to do with internal factors and some general life circumstance stuff. It doesn't have that much to do with number of kudos. That's just the surface trigger for a mood that was already there.
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vlassk · 2 months ago
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Keeper
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Stanford Pines x Reader
She/ her Reader
After learning of Stanleys past with Ford y/n, she decided she wouldn't be getting close to the twin. But she finds it difficult as Ford is just so damn cute.
Warning: age gap, angst, 18+ later on. Swearing. Pervy Ford(lmk if i missed any) not proofread as i no no wanna
You had lived in Gravity Falls for a couple of years now. Stumbling upon it, one winter road trip and falling in love with the beauty. As the years went on, you made good friends, including one neighbor. Stanford Pines was always one person you could talk to about the supernatural. Although he liked to pretend it wasn't real or not as big of a deal, he would always hear you out on your discovery in the town.
You being in your early 30s, the friendship was awkward at first. You saw the faces around town from friends and passer bys. But as time went on, people saw that it was simply platonic.
You spend most of your free time helping him around the house and grabbing food together. He told you about his time in prison and everything about his brother Stanley...
You would linger on his brother. Knowing how horrible he treated Stan and how he would never hear Stan out. Being the Better Brother. The days were good. You ran a local Inn a little out of town. The primary owner would travel most of the time.
One summer though The lnn that you ran shut down. And your manager had to let you go.
"Ughhh, what im i going to do! My place of living! My job!" You slam your head on the table, a loud thud being heard
"Kid, why dont you just ask your parents for some help? Im sure they will under -" Stan lifted up your head to place a small pillow under your face.
"No! Do you know how disappointed they will be?! YEARS of Tuistion for West Coast Tech just to run an Inn?! In a small town! Stan...stanford pines they would kill me and bring me back home..." You plead out looking up only to cry more and slam your head back down, the pillow guarding you.
" y/n you haven't told them?!" Stan yells out, only making you cry more. He paces the room and looks towards you. His frustration leaves when an idea pops into his head.
He sits next to you at the table
"Ya know.. my great niece and nephew are visiting once summer. Break starts...ill need someone to watch the store, maybe evenbuild some cool robot stuff for the shop! Ya know, wendy likes, so take her days off... you could even stay here in the storage closet..." He lays his hand on your back.
Your breathing slows as you look up at Stan.
"Really..." You wipe your tears away, going to hug the old man.
"But you gatta tell your parents at least"
"Fine..."
A couple of months had passed, and you were now a normal part of the household. Mable and Dipper always took you on adventures. You never realized how many crazy creatures were around. You would always come home and help stan though, building him add ons to his favorite chair, making animotronics for the shack. You know things were going wrong when the Fbi arrested Stanford. You remember looking at him as he was taken away. A sad look on your eyes.
" y/n, please. Its not true they dont know what they are talking about!"
You didn't say anything. You didn't know what to say.
You looked over the kids, trying to prove his innocence when they found a code for the vending machine. Soos stood in the way of the machine, and mable threw glitter at him to make him move.
As you made your way into the basement, you could only think of the worst things.
What if he wasn't really Stanford. What if he was someone else. What if everything was a lie like they say. Are you even safe.
You hold onto Mables hand as Soos led the way. Once you get to the bottom, you see all the tech Mable goes on about how Stans is the same man and he loves us. All you can think about is all the tips you gave Stanford on how to fix or build different things. Dipper finds the 2 journals putting all 3 together to see the blueprints of something.
You only look at the basements, build, scan the area, hear Dipper Freak out, but your mind races, and you can't focus on his words. You look at the countdown reading 1 minute. Dipper and mable run into the next room. Turning keys. The strange Build glows. Before Dipper can press the shutdown button Stan runs in
"Dont touch that button!"
You turn to see Stan walking through the door, picking up his pace to you all.
"Dipper, just back away! Please dont press that button, you gatta, trust me!" Stan pleads. Slowing as he sees that Dippers hand is hovering over the red button.
"I should trust you. Why?!. After you stole that radioactive waste?! After you lied to us ALL summer?! I dont even know who you are!"
"I know all this is nuts, but i need that machine to stay on!" A beep is heard after Stans pleads. You start to float up with the rest as the triangle structure opens up. A space like portal opens
"STANFORD?!" You scream out. trying to reach for your friend.
"Dipper!" Mable screams, her foot caught on a wire holding her close to the button
"MABLE HURRY SHUT IT DOWN," Dipper screams out from across the room.
"Stan, why wouldn't you tell me?!" You cry out. Your hair floating around you.
"Kid...i couldn't. I didn't know how!"
As mable crawls her way down stan tries to float towards her, soos swooping in to tackle stan
"Soos, what are you doing?!i gave you an order." Stan struggles between Soos
"Sorry Mrs pines if that is your real name, but i have a new job now! Protecting these kids!" Soos tries to push him away from Mable.
"Soos, you idiot let me go!" Stan continues to reach out. You kept floating. trying to go back down.
Dipper goes to tackle stan as well. You find a way to get to mable holding her down as you both hover over the button.
As Stanley pleads with you both, you see mable tear up.
"Grunkle Stan,"Mable says between tears. "i don't even know, if you're my grunkle! I wanna believe you, but"
"Then listen to me. Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?" Stan breaks from Dipper and Soos.
The computer reads 20 seconds. A power surges through making you float away from mable. You hit the roof of the. Building,The others fly against the rooms walls.
" I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of them are true, but trust me. Everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!"
"Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe! Listen to your head!" Dipper cries out.
Mable looks up to see you, floating closer to the portal. You glanse back at stans pleading with your eyes. Stan gives you a nod.Mable watches as you close your eyes. Relaxing your body
"Look into my eyes, Mabel! Do you really think I'm a bad guy?"
" He's lying! Shut it down NOW!"
"Mable please"
Ten Nine
"Grunkle stan"
Six five
"I trust you"
"MABEL, ARE YOU CRAZY?! WE'RE ALL GONNA-"
Mable lets go floating up to grab onto your leg. Pulling you closer and away from going through the portal.
One...
Screams are heard as a light blast blows up.
The light shooting through the whole town.
You slowly open your eyes, seeing a figure in front of the portal
"...stan..." You pull your head up from the ground
"What who is that?" Dipper stands
"The author of the journals..." Stanford also stands up.
You see, the man pulls off his goggles, revealing a face just like stans. He looks down at you. As you slowly sit yourself up. You're the closest one to him.
"My brother..." Stan sighs
"Is the the part where one of us faints.." mable giggles
"Ohoho, I am so on it, dude" soos faints on cue. Falling to the floor.
"Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you're actually here! Brother!"
You watch as the man you're assuming Stanley walks up and punches Stanford.
"This was an insanely risky move – restarting the portal! Didn't you read my warnings?!"
"Warnings, schmarnings. How's about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I don't know, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?"
"Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you DID, THIRTY YEARS AGO?!"
"What I did? Why, you ungrateful...
Stanley pins Stanfords arms. As they bicker, the man slams him on the ground. "
"Get off him, you asshole," you shove Stanley off Stanford. Mable stands next to you
"Hey, hi. Mabel here. Quick question – WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!"
"Stan, you didn't tell me there were children down here... And some sort of large, hairless gopher? And... uh, " you see the mans eyes dart from top to bottom, then back to the top.
"A woman..."
"Heh heh. I get that a lot." You laugh at Soos. As he smiles back at you. You watch as Stan eyes you. Wondering what thoughts he could be having.
"They're your family, Poindexter. Shermie's grandkids." Stanford rolls his eyes.
"I-I have a niece and nephew? Greetings. Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time."
He bends down to shake mables hand
"Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full finger friendlier than normal!"
"Heha, I like this kid. She's weird."
"And you are?" He extends his hand to you. You ignore it and turn away.
"A friend of Stans..."
Stanley Huffs turning back around
"I-I can't believe it. You're the author of the journals!" Dipper fanboys
"You've read my journals?"
You don't listen to the conversation, but you help Stanford up. He thanks you as he stands. You see stanley eyeing you both out of the corner of your eyes. You dart your eyes towards him, making him look off.
"Well, it looks like we're stuck down here for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?" Mable sits back down on some rubble.
"Yes, I have some questions about all this myself, Stanley." The man walks over ignoring you to the next if his abilities
"Stanley..."dipper puts a finger to his chin
"But your name is stanford..." mable questions
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You leap forward at stan, soos catching you
"Wait, you took my name?! What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!"
"Yeah, Grunkle Stan, no more lies! You owe us some answers – What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" Dipper exclaims.
"And what happened between you and your brother?" Maybe points at stan angered.
"Im hoping all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan. If not, I will be very disappointed."
You stop struggling against soos. Only to pause and give him a confused look.
"Stanf-...stanley why do you keep lying to me?!" You plead with the old man
"Kid listen... i did what i had to do"
"No. I won't accept that. Tell me why. Was everything about Him even true? " You point to the other man.
The now understood Stanley sighs. I looked up from his brows.
"Everything about HIM is correct. I just switched the names..." he shrugs. With another sigh, he leans against the wall, telling the tale of the two brothers.
As they both took turns telling their upbringing, you couldn't help but watch the twin. He would smile at the good times, and you would catch him watching you as well.
You had to admit he was handsome. You never saw Stan in a way, but Stanford was totally different even with the same face.
If you, too, matched eyes, you would simply roll them and look away. Even though you were curious about this handsome man.
"Oh! This story's so sad! I know what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out! Hug it out! Hug train's comin' in the station. HUGAPOLOOZA! 2000!" Mable triez to push the men together.
"Kid, will ya knock that off? I'm tryin' to tell my life story here. "
"I already know all this..." You walk off sitting in the room where the portal once was. You could still hear the conversation. Noting again at the Dream school Stanford wanted to go to... but couldn't. You burrowed your face in your legs. Conflicted, you never thought you'd meet him. You were so angry at all the things he did to your friend. But knowing everything and knowing he's alive. Could you be nicer to him?
You hear a Scream and turn to look at the room, dipper fan boys over the journals.
"just got excited there... About the journals... Keep-keep talking."
"I began to keep a journal..."
Dipper screams again. You walk into the room staring at the child. He looks up at you and calms himself down.
"Just going to ignore that..."
He goes on you decide to sit back in the room with the others.
As they retell the fight, you can't help but stare at Stanford. Aggravated at every word he says.
He pauses for a moment. Staring just as intensely
"What is your problem?" Stanford exclaims, throwing his hands up.
"You... you are my problem. you're dangerous. " he looks shocked at your words. And leans back a bit, not knowing what to say.The story finishes as the agents from upstairs get closer. Stanford makes a plan. Telling everyone to stay put as he travels upstairs.
Mable hears the agents leave and runs upstairs with your protest
"Great-uncle Stanford, that was amazing!"
"Let's not go crazy; it was serviceable."
"Thank you, kids, but please, call me Ford."
You stand on the porch. Watching the kids talk to Ford. You catch glimses of him looking at you. Your heart beats faster when he does. Is this anger? You're not nervous..are you?Stan pushes the kids off to bed. He turns to look at you. He mouths out 'stay'. You fix your posture, waiting to wave the kids off while they go inside. Saying a goodbye to Soos and moving towards Stan.
You punch Stans arm
"Ouch why me?!"
"That's for lying to me, you big idiot! Dont do that again!"You furrow your eyebrows. Stan frowns, rubbing his arm. You go in for a hug. Letting go just as fast and looking at Ford.
"So...who are you agai-" you cut him off by slapping him. Both stan and fords face in shock.
" That's for building such a STUPID machine... and hurting my friend!"
Stan begins to laugh. Resting a hand on your shoulder.
"Who even are you?!" The man shouts, angerly walking towards the house. The sun is going down.
" haha shes a keeper! Now Y/n go to bed. I gatta catch up with this man..."
"What's the point of me staying behind?"You shrug your shoulders. Pushing the old man slightly a small okay left your lips.
"No hard feelings, old man?" You smile and walk away, turning around to point finger guns at both men, going into the house and upstairs to your room.
"Old man? Rude, " Ford says under his breath
The two men head in as well. I'm sitting at the table to talk. Catching up on the little things
"Nothing so bad, ya know... people come and go...?"
"Hmm...and that women you keep around?"
"Huh? Women? Haha, that's Y/n. She's a good friend.."
"Just friend?"
"Of course! She's a good kid. Takes care of Dipper and Mable and always makes great adjustments to her past works. " Stan leans back in his chair, talking about you normally
"Past works? What does that even mean" Ford questions.
"Ah, she's a graduate of West Coast tech... some phds in some stuff i dont really pay attention. But she makes awesome stuff. Let me tell ya, " Stan points to a few things you've improved or added.
"Wait, she went to WCT?? Wait, why is she here with you?" Ford laughs still in shock of your success.
"She's been a friend of mine for a while now. She used to work at an Inn that closed down, so i gave her a place to work and sleep. Listen, i felt bad leaving her alone. She needed someone"
"Interesting... " fords mind goes off. Picturing you again. How angry you looked at him, the disappointment when you would stare. But how beautiful you are. How every time you looked at him with hate or pity, all he could see was the opposite.
"I know that look,"Stan leans forward
"What look?" Ford looks away at anything but his brother.
"That look... you stay away from her..." stans eyebrows furrow. His fist on the table
"I dont even know what you're talking about." Ford looks away again, and this finds his head resting on his hand.
"Stay. Away." Stanley gets up.
"But... I'm happy you're home," he holds his hand out. Ford takes it, and they get up to go to bed. Stopping by the bathroom for one last conversation, you can't help but too listen in on.
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downtwngrl · 5 months ago
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INTRICATE.
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hi so it’s been a WHILE. uhhhh rewatched challengers for the thousandth time and it broke me out of my writers block! i don’t know how im going to continue w this, so feel free to drop any ideas and ill add it to the lore 😈 note: series prob isn’t gonna end with any smut scene bc im incapable of writing one without it sounding stupid asf! but who knows, you might be surprised
cw: 1.4k words,,, art and reader are dating but fighting, set in stanford era, tashi is NOT injured, patashi, hints of reader crushing on tashi but repressing it, fighting, tensiontensionTENSION! basically everyone is friends with one another but they all want each other BAD. lmk what else i should add :)
“it’s complicated.” that’s what you say every time someone asks you what your relationship with art donaldson is. and it’s true— you guys are fiery, but not explosive. complex, but not convoluted. it’s just… strange. intricate. hence, complicated.
you think he’d probably say the same thing, but there’s no real way to know, since you can’t exactly ask. the two of you aren’t on speaking terms right now, and for the same reason you two stopped talking last time, and the time before that.
art donaldson can’t split his time between his girlfriend and his fucking best friend’s girlfriend. and you can recite the argument quite well, maybe even word for word; it’s still fresh in your mind, engraved there.
“c’mon, you can’t just keep ditching me for her. it’s annoying, and it hasn’t just happened once or twice, you know.”
“i know.” art sighed, a hand tangled in his hair as if to ground himself. your name fell from his lips, voice cracking midway. “what do you want me to do? she needed help with her physics homework.”
“she can get one of her fucking groupies to help her! she’s a big girl, she doesn’t need to rely on you.” the way you said it, mocking and condescending, was mean, and you know it. you don’t hate tashi— you can’t even bring yourself to dislike her. but it hurts every single time you text art on your motorola and get hit back with some half-assed variation of ‘helping tashi. sry :( i’ll come later.’ he never actually shows up at ‘later’, which only rubs salt in the wound.
art’s jaw ticked. his eyebrows furrowed and eyes darkened in a way you’d only seen once before, when someone was talking shit about tashi in the cafeteria. you had watched as she calmly reassured art that is was fine, that he needed to relax, but he only shook his head and clenched his fists. in that moment, you wondered if he ever got that angry if he overheard someone talking about you. you now doubt it.
“don’t talk about her like that.” he said it calmly, but your skin still prickled. “she’s an accomplished lady. what about you? what have you done?”
if you sounded condescending before, it was nothing compared to how he sounded then. you scoffed away the sinking feeling in your stomach, blinked back the sting in your eyes. there was a lot you could have said to him then: ‘i might not be half as good at tennis as she is, but that’s less embarrassing than being second-best to her boyfriend.’ or ‘i didn’t compete for her number and lose.’ hell, even a good ‘fuck you’ would have sufficed.
instead, you just stood there, frozen, as he grabbed his stanford sweatshirt and left.
when you tell the story to patrick, he laughs, and doesn’t stop laughing until you jab him with your elbow, effectively knocking the oxygen out of him. his hands raise in mock surrender before speaking. “sorry, it’s just funny to see him get like this, i guess.”
you frown. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i mean that he likes you, but he likes tashi. i know it, tashi knows it, and from what i heard on the walk here—” he gestures vaguely towards the door to your dorm, “—the school knows it, too. i dunno, i guess it’s amusing ‘cause art has never been so disturbed about this kind of shit. usually he just picks the girl he likes best, but he can’t.”
“you mean he can’t because you’re dating her.”
patrick smirks his signature smirk. you have the urge to punch his teeth out; vagueness is beginning to be a pet peeve of yours. “no, i’ve told him that tashi is free reign.”
the way your stomach flutters at that is shameful. you push the feeling away. “like, you guys aren’t..?”
patrick shrugs. “i mean, currently she hates me because i said i’d go to her match yesterday and i missed it.” these guys really need to stop promising us stuff, you think. “but yeah, when she isn’t pissed off, we’re dating, and we talk about it. ‘bout you guys. she doesn’t really care if the two of you make moves on either one of us.”
you don’t say anything, but your ears feel warm, and your heart is about to explode out of your chest. it doesn’t help when patrick takes that as a sign to keep talking and says—
“i don’t care either.” it suddenly hits you, the closeness between you and him. close enough that you can smell his cologne, one typical of a rich frat boy you’d pass by in the halls. but it feels different, with him. patrick’s smirk has shifted into a grin, a big one. you realize he’s been gauging your reaction, and is thoroughly pleased.
“oh,” you breathe. he snickers, repeats it back playfully. you don’t understand how he’s so relaxed, able to make light-hearted jabs in this moment. art likes you and tashi. tashi doesn’t care if he likes her, or if you like her. patrick doesn’t either. but where do you stand in this?
your phone jingles, the sound muffled from the blood roaring in your ears. you don’t know if you should thank or curse out whoever decided to call you at this second, but you excuse yourself to answer. patrick nods begrudgingly, backs up enough for you to have room to finally start to inhale and exhale again. “hello?”
“hey.” it’s art on the phone. impulsively, you look around, as if he’s hiding somewhere in the dorm he marched out of a few days ago.
holy fuck. “hey!” you sound too cheery to your own ears, and hope that over the line it sounds more convincing. you hear a sigh on the other end, and can imagine art physically loosen. “what, uh— i thought you were mad. at me.”
patrick perks up. ‘art?’ he mouths, and you nod. he attempts to come closer, but you swat at him, moving a few steps away. he pulls a face, but doesn’t move closer. still, he’s definitely trying to hear what art is saying.
“i was.” art laughs nervously, the sound tinny over the phone. “but you’re right. i fucked up. tashi… she isn’t my girl. i need to pay more attention to you, and that’s gonna happen starting now.”
she isn’t my girl. “she could be,” you think aloud. you tense. art chokes. patrick stifles a laugh.
“what?” you pray that he didn’t hear it. you had mumbled it, whispered it, there’s a chance it didn’t pick up. art says your name one, two, three times before you respond.
“sorry, i just zoned out a little.”
“no, you said something. baby, what’d you say?”
“i said ‘you should be’. like, you should be paying more attention, dumb joke, i was trying to sound threatening,” you slap your free hand against your lips to stop your word vomit, then your forehead as you reprimand yourself for acting so stupid.
art hums. “oh, okay.” it should relieve some on the tension in your shoulders, but it doesn’t. he usually laughs when you fluster, but he didn’t. is he unconvinced, or are you overthinking? “hey, tomorrow can you come to my practice at noon? we can go to the cafeteria after, i’ve got wayyy too many meal credits.”
you look to patrick for help, but he shrugs, enjoying the moment. “sure.”
art says his goodbyes, goes ‘mwah!’ through the phone (which usually makes you laugh, but now you feel bad), and once you say bye, he hangs up.
“i’ll go to his practice, too.” it’s never a question with patrick (or with tashi); he just lets you know. “tashi’ll be there. she’s always on the court when she’s free.” you find it endearing that he knows her schedule.
“tashi.” you like the way her name rolls off your tongue, but you’d rather die than admit it.
before you can say anything else, patrick walks over, swings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. “don’t forget about what i said.” his breath smells like spearmint gum, the type art is always chewing. maybe he gave him a piece. “just think on it, yeah?”
you nod, and he pats your cheek before walking out the door, leaving you feeling dazed. after a few moments of just laying on your bed, soaking in the conversation you just had, your phone dings.
we’ll see u tmrw :-) -pat (&tash)
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justaz · 1 month ago
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i've had this au idea for a while and have tried writing it but i don't get far into it before abandoning it so ill post it in case someone else wants to write it or take some inspiration from it or what have you. s4ep1/2 au.
merlin uses his magic to just latch arthur's feet to the ground as well as lancelot's when he sees him creeping towards the veil. merlin turns to face them as he walks backwards, revealing his gold eyes and magic to arthur which barely registers in his mind as he understands what merlin's doing and Panics. he's yelling and almost begging and demanding merlin to get back here you idiot. i'm the king you listen to me
and merlin just smiles and is like when have i ever listened to you? and steps into the veil, sacrificing himself and closing it. with his death, his magic releases arthur and lancelot who are just like. what the fuck. and grief-stricken. and angry. anyways they go back to camelot and lancelot stays with gwen and they mourn together. gwaine is. a wreck. the knights are all grieving. arthur is just. gone. like. he closes himself in his chambers for like two weeks. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he can barely function. anyways merlin watches him from the veil as a spirit, he watches all of them and is a little guilty about causing them so much grief and heart ache but he rather them be sad and alive than dead so he doesn't regret it that much
magic lore i made up - since merlin gave his life in an exchange, he gets to remain conscious and aware within the veil. the other spirits that roam around are focused on whatever's keeping them there (and keeping them from moving on to the afterlife). there's a lot of sorcerers in camelot who are angry and crying because they were executed by uther - their heads cut off, their bodies charred, or their necks bent at odd angles. they wander around calling for justice. anyways ygraine's life was also taken in an exchange so what i'm saying is ygraine and merlin best friends arc.
they both watch over arthur with worry and then one day arthur just storms out of his chambers and down to the library and buries himself in books, searching desperately for a way to bring merlin back. with how little he's eating and sleeping, arthur ends up passing out and has a nightmare. merlin reaches out on instinct wishing to comfort him and ends up getting pulled into his dreams, only with his intention being to comfort, his arrival shifts the dream from a nightmare into something a lot more pleasant - merlin and arthur together and alive and...courting? it looks like? arthur leans in to kiss him but the dream dissipates right before their lips meet.
anyways, that happens a few times with a few different dreams as arthur searches for a way to open the veil again and bring merlin back. i have two different endings for this though. one is, since merlin is emrys and immortal, after some time the cailleach comes back and is like "immortal asshole. i took some of your eternal life force but you're still immortal but the veil is still sealed. i can't keep someone who still has all this life. get out." and just pushes him out of the veil and into his body again. OR arthur finds a way to bargain with the cailleach and sees his mother with merlin and bada bing bada boom (i forgot to add that arthur at some point finds out about his uncles treachery lmao) trades agravaine's life for ygraine's and then his father's (he can't stand to see his father wasting away and sees this peaceful death as mercy) for merlin's. and he gets his mom and bf best friend manservant back.
after everything settles down, arthur finally has time to focus on merlin's magic but with the trauma of almost losing him, he finds he really can't care about it and just repeals the ban to keep from even thinking about executing him so merlin will never be in danger again. ygraine is also happy about this bc i hc she had a little bit of magic. she learned from her gf nimueh. bonus hc bc i feel like it - ygraine and uther were married and loved each other, yes, but ygraine took nimueh as her consort and uther took balinor as his consort.
okay thats all. if anyone actually writes this or anything similar to it, it'd love to read it. pls tag me or dm me <3
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safety-pin-punk · 1 year ago
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hey queer nd teen here i've been really interested in punk culture and the message drives me to tears but i'm scared of being called a poser because i feel like a coward
i hate cops and i think they should fucking die and the government is fucked and we have to look after each other. but i feel backed into a corner because i'm surrounded by family who would laugh at me and just wouldn't understand and i don't feel like i can Handle it but i Want to
as a shy and nonconfrontational teen with a shit ton of anxiety to boot i dunno. i admire brave hardcore punks who beat up cops and nazis but i Can't Be That
no need for a response but it would be nice
When I was a teen, I was told by my best friend that I could never be a punk. That I would never be a punk. But here I am. I was a shy quiet kid, and I’m still pretty quiet and prefer to avoid confrontations when I can. My point is, these things don’t prevent people from being a punk if its in their nature
Not all punks are the big tough punks who can physically fight those fights. Though they are a very important part of our community. But we also have plenty of disabled, neurodivergent, and chronically ill people who are just as punk, and even people who are just not into violence. They are advocates, they are researchers, they are community care takers. Being a punk isnt all about fighting evil. I actually think thats not the best way to look at it at all. Being punk is about caring for your community. And while ‘fighting evil’ is a part of it, there are a lot more things that entails.
If you truly want to be a punk, it seems like you are already going down the right path. You alluded to a not so great home life where it might not be the best idea to dress in alternative styles. You could always start with smaller, more subtle things. Or you can just wait until you can move out to start exploring that. Remember, being punk is more than just an aesthetic, and while the aesthetic may look cool, it is by no means a requirement to be a punk (honestly half the time I run around it cowboy boots and a flannel - in the winter I usually add the hat too)
You are a teen still. Growing and learning about yourself and the world around you. And so are your peers. Any teen who calls you a poser is being a jerk and doesn’t know all that much about the scene. Any grown adult that calls you a poser is probably a poser themselves who refuses to acknowledge that not every person comes from the same background. But I also feel like it’s important to tell you that what anyone else says shouldnt matter that much. Even if it feels like it does, if you let their words matter to you, you are giving them all the control.
Its okay to be young and not know a lot. Its okay to not dress alternative for any number of reasons. Its okay to not feel like you could go off and fight bad people. None of those things make you a poser.
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dancinglikebutterflywings · 2 months ago
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Not Dead Yet | Part 02
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-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Medium-Fem!Reader
-> Synopsis: After trying to avoid Jeonghan (and the other ghosts) Y/N encounters him on the stairwell and is unable to ignore him anymore.
-> Warnings: Paranormal au. Hints at a possible evil spirit lurking about. Sick child in hospital but doesn't mention the illness, hints at her having been in hospital for a while. Y/N almost cusses a couple times. Hints at Y/N and Jihoon fake dating. This is a work of fiction. In no way does it reflect the guys.
-> Word Count: 2,616
-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.
Not Dead Yet Masterlist | SEVENTEEN M.List
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As Y/N walks along the footpath leading to the hospital, she digs through her bag, looking for something she promised one of the kids she visits. When she can't find it, she starts to cuss but stops herself when an elderly lady glares at her as she passes by. She bows in apology before continuing her search. 
Just a moment later, Y/N feels a sudden chill run down her spine and turns back to see the woman has completely vanished and is nowhere to be found. 
Frustrated, she scans the area, mentally scolding herself for revealing her ability to see ghosts to the old woman. “You would think I would know the difference between the living and dead by now,” she mutters under her breath, ensuring that only her brother on the other end of the call can hear her. 
“You chose to volunteer at the hospital,” Seungcheol, chimes in. “You’re surrounded by both the living and the dead there.” 
“I’m surrounded by the living and the dead everywhere I go,” she replies, rolling her eyes at his comment. But then, she suddenly exclaims, “Aha!” as she finally finds what she was looking for. It’s a small ballerina doll that used to be hers. She believes it deserves a new home with the little girl she’s befriended through her volunteer work. The little girl loves ballet more than she ever did. “I need to go. Tell Eomma I’ll be there tonight, but if she tries to set me up with one of her friend’s sons again, I’m going to leave and-,” she pauses, an idea coming to her. “Actually, I should bring Jihoon. That might keep her off my back for a while.”  
“You brought Jihoon a few months ago,” he reminds her. “Are you going to tell eomma that you’re fake back together?”  
“Shi-Yah!” she exclaims, stopping herself from cussing again as the elderly woman from a minute ago suddenly reappears in front of her. “I’ll find someone else to bring,” she quickly says, ending the call before he can respond. She frowns at the lady, taking out her earbuds and placing them back in her bag. The elderly woman says nothing as Y/N moves past her to go inside the hospital. Making her way up to the children’s ward, she keeps her head bowed so she doesn’t make eye contact with any more spirits. 
“Jeon Nari, I have a surprise for you,” Y/N calls out as she enters the room where the six-year-old girl is sitting on the hospital bed, colouring in her princess colouring book. She notices that the young girl’s father is with her and greets him politely with a slight bow of her head.  
Jeon Wonwoo, Nari's father, looks up from his phone and stands to return her greeting. “It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he says, his voice reflecting the worry and exhaustion of a parent who has spent long hours in the hospital with his sick child. “Nari’s been talking about you non-stop since your last visit,” he adds. “She was so excited to learn that you used to do ballet.”  
Y/N smiles, her heart warming at the thought of Nari's excitement. It confirmed that she’s making the right choice in passing her once beloved doll down to the sweet little girl. “Well, speaking of ballet,” she says, pulling the ballerina doll with a pink tutu from behind her back and holding it out towards her. “I thought you might like this.” 
Nari’s eyes widen in excitement, her colouring book momentarily forgotten as Y/N passes the doll to her. “Wow! She’s so pretty!” Nari exclaims as a large smile makes its way onto her face. 
“Will you promise to take good care of her for me?” Y/N asks, her smile mirroring Nari's as she sits down across from her, her heart swelling with affection for the little girl. However, her smile dims as an unsettling chill fills the room. She senses a presence lingering in the doorway, and for a brief moment, it feels as if time has frozen. 
The atmosphere shifts, the warmth of the moment dissipating as Y/N's gaze drifts toward the entrance. A figure stands there, half-hidden in the shadow. The air grows thick with an unspoken tension, and Y/N's heart races as she tries to decipher the emotions swirling around her. 
“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the silence, bringing her back to reality. He gazes at her with worry. “Are you okay?”  
She manages a smile, though it doesn’t fully reach her eyes, and nods. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay for long today,” she says, causing Nari to pout. Unbeknownst to Y/N, her visits have become one of Nari’s favourite parts about being in the hospital. “Since it's my day off from work tomorrow, I’ll be here much earlier than usual. You’ll be the first person I’ll come and see.”  
"You promise?" Nari asks, her expression a mix of hope and excitement as she holds up her tiny pinkie finger. 
"I promise," Y/N replies with a smile, linking her pinkie with Nari's and pressing their thumbs together, sealing their promise. The gesture brings a comforting warmth back into the room, yet an unsettling feeling still lingers in the air. Looking towards the doorway, she sees that the figure is no longer there. Trying to shake off the feeling, she turns her attention back on Nari. “I should get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” 
After saying her goodbyes, she exits the room, the unsettling feeling following her as she walks down the corridor and exits the children's ward. The air around her starts to feel almost suffocating so she chooses to take the stairs instead of the confined unescapable space of the elevator. As she descends the stairwell, the unease turns into feeling of being followed, the presence heavy, dark and ominous. Half expecting to find the figure from the doorway, she looks behind her only to find no one there, living or dead. With her heart pounding against her chest and her footsteps echoing in her ears, she quickens her pace and reaches the next landing. There she stops for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself, her eyes never leave the stairs she just descended, wary of any spirit that might choose to show itself. 
After a brief moment, she braves herself and turns to continue her walk down the stairs, but just as she does, a sudden fright nearly sends her tumbling backward. A scream escapes her lips as another presence makes itself known, breaking the suffocating ominous feeling in an instant.  
"I knew you could see me!" he exclaims, his voice echoing off the walls. His eyes gleam with a wild intensity, a mixture of mischief and something deeper. "You can't pretend anymore." 
“What is with you ghosts sneaking up on me today,” she groans with a frown on her face.  
“I’m not a ghost,” the man insists. 
“I hate to break it to you, but you are a ghost,” she informs him, her voice tinged with exasperation. “That is why I can see you while no one else can.”  
“But I’m not dead,” he counters, frustration clear in his voice. 
“Yes, you are,” she replies, her gaze flicking nervously to the door off to the side, hoping no one decides to walk into the stairwell at that moment. 
“I’m not!” he argues, reaching for her wrist, only for his hand to pass right through her. He tries again, with the same result.  
Each time he does it, it sends a chill through Y/N’s body. “Would you stop?” she scolds him moving her wrist away. 
“I’m trying to show you that I’m not dead,” he growls as the fluorescent lights above them begin to flicker, his frustration and anger boiling over. He’d spent the week trying to get her attention, unable to communicate with anyone else. “Just... come with me.” His voice softens, a hint of vulnerability breaking through as he almost sounds like he’s pleading. “You have to believe me.” 
With that he turns on his heal, walking through the door. Y/N hesitates for a moment but there is something within that compels her to follow him. Her curiosity piqued; she walks closer to the door. Pushing the door open, she steps into a brightly lit corridor with an intensive care unit sign hanging from the ceiling. 
Y/N's heart races once again as she takes in the scene, her breath hitching in her throat. The ghosts are everywhere, some with solid forms, others with translucent forms flickering in and out of focus, some hover near the doors of the patients rooms, their expressions a haunting blend of hope and despair and others drift aimlessly, looking at nothing in particular.  
The distant beeping of machines and the soft murmur of voices fills her ears as she searches for the man that led her this way. She finally spots him standing before the automatic glass doors of the unit. 
Reaching into her bag, she pulls out her earbuds, sticking them into her ears and keeps her head down, avoiding eye contact with the other ghosts as she makes her way over to him. "I can't go inside," she tells him. 
"I'm right there," he says pointing to one of the cubicles at the back of the room. She can just make out the end of the bed, but she can't confirm if it’s really him. 
“If you’re not dead, how can I see you?” she asks, more to herself than him.  
"How should I know?" he replies anyway. "You see the others, right?"  
"But they’re already dead," she answers.  
"How can you be so certain?" he asks out of curiosity.  
"You think there’s someone in there in a coma from the Joseon Dynasty era?" she says, motioning towards the woman at the end of the hall, her face etched with worry. "I bet she’s here because she’s watching over someone in there. You’d be surprised how many ancestors show up to welcome their family member into the afterlife. It makes it less scary to cross over into that dimension." She pauses, her gaze drifting back to the woman, who stands with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "It’s like a welcoming committee," she continues. "They reassure them that they’re not alone and guide them over. It’s a beautiful thing, really.” 
His gaze turns to the woman, "So, you think that’s what’s happening here? That she’s just waiting for someone to join her so she can welcome them home?"
"It’s that, or she just doesn’t want her ancestor to be alone," she replies, her heart racing with the thrill of her own conviction. "It’s not just about the end of life. She could just be here watching over her entire bloodline, making sure they’re safe and healthy. It’s probably why she looks so worried.” 
“I guess you’ve been doing this a long time,” he says, turning his gaze towards her. 
“A very long time,” she sighs looking back inside the intensive care unit. “But this has never happened before. I’ve never seen or communicated with someone who’s in limbo.” 
Just as he opens his mouth to speak, someone calls out Y/N’s name. Her eyes widen as she turns, pulling her earbuds out. A blush creeps onto her cheeks as she greets the handsome man in a white coat. “Dr. Hong,” she says, bowing her head. 
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today” he smiles, causing Y/N’s heart to flutter and for a moment the situation she’s found herself in is a distant memory.  
“I��uh, I just dropped something off to Nari,” she stammers, feeling a little bashful. Joshua Hong, a doctor who transferred from America, seems to have that effect on anyone he comes across. There’s reason his nickname is the gentleman. He’s kind, polite and respectful to everyone, he doesn’t anger easily even in intense situations, and speaks with a soft, calming voice. He’s also incredibly handsome.  
She quickly snaps out of her little trance that she found herself in when the man who isn’t quite a ghost, loudly clears his throat from besides the doctor. Glancing at him, he doesn’t look impressed by the sudden interruption. Quickly looking back at Joshua, she continues “I-I also thought it would be a good time to stop by and see how my friend,” she looks out the corner of her eye at the man before focusing on the doctor again, “is doing.” 
“Who’s your friend?” Joshua asks, glancing down at the folders in his hands.  
“Uh-” she pauses, her eyes flickering between the doctor and the man she now realises she never got the name of. 
“Yoon Jeonghan,” he tells her. 
“Yoon Jeonghan,” she repeats and Jeonghan nods with a small triumphant smile. This is his chance to get some more answers. 
“I was handed his case this morning,” Joshua informs her. “I can’t really tell you anything but it’s a strange one. Just know that were doing everything we can to figure out what happened and why he won’t wake up.” 
“So, you don’t have anything?” she hears Jeonghan ask even though Joshua can’t hear him, the frustration from earlier resurfacing. “This is great,” he scoffs but his voice quickly turns to one of panic. “What if I’m like this forever? I can’t be like this forever.”  
“Oh,” she says, her look turning to one of sympathy when she hears the tone in Jeonghan’s voice. “Thank you for doing everything you can do,” she thanks Joshua. “Hopefully he wakes up soon.” 
“I hope so, too,” Joshua says reflecting her sympathy. “Well, I should get in there and start my rounds. It was good seeing you.” 
“You too,” she says, her heart not fluttering like it usually would when he said the last part. She watches him step inside the unit and make his way to the back of the room where Jeonghan pointed out the bed he was laying in. 
“Now you believe me,” he says and all she can do is nod. “Not even the doctors know what’s going on. What hope do I have if you don’t even know what’s going on?” he sighs, sounding defeated. “Maybe it all goes back to that weird guy. He must have done something to me. It’s the only explanation that I have.” 
“What weird guy?” she asks, now looking at him.  
“There was this weird guy that was leaning against my car, he was talking nonsense, then I passed out when I went to leave and woke up here, like this,” he explains. “He told me the person who can see me will know his name,” he adds looking at her, expectantly. 
“I don’t know anyone who would do that,” she tells him.  
“He also said something about the Gods,” he says, thinking back to the strange encounter.  
“The Gods?” she asks, surprised by his words. “If the God’s are involved, I’m not the person you’re looking for. I just see, feel and communicate with ghosts, that’s it.” 
He rolls his eyes, “I’m not exactly a ghost, am I? Yet, you can still see and talk with me.” 
“This- this is way above my pay grade,” she shakes her head, now trying to deny that this was happening. “Not that I get paid for it. I should go. I wish you luck with everything and I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.”  
“You can’t leave-” Jeonghan starts as Y/N begins to walk away at a fast pace, trying her best to put distance between them.  
She steps inside the elevator, her eyes connecting with Jeonghan’s desperate ones, one last time before the doors close. 
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furious-blueberry0 · 4 months ago
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Have some extremely random thoughts/ideas for my Acolyte rewrite, lets go:
Mae and Osha are completely venerated by the Coven, with the witches treating them as almost divine beings thanks to their conception via the Force.
While Mae loves the attention and the future that was written for her by her mothers, Osha is absolutely terrified by it.
One day she accidentally hears the other women talk about the Jedi, and she starts being obsessed, even dreaming about them! Because she knows nothing else about the galaxy and sees them as her only way to get as far away as possible from a destiny she doesn’t want.
When the Jedi come to the planet it's Osha that discovers them, and she starts to spy on them out of curiosity and hope for a few days.
The day they have to go back, Osha makes her decision, she hides in the cargo hold of their ship, and flies away with them.
Mae and the witches think she has been kidnapped, but they do not have a ship, so they are stuck on the planet unable to do anything.
Mae swears revenge on the Jedi for taking her sister away from her, not knowing the truth. This won't end well.
(I want the witches to live ok?????????)
Osha becomes the Padawan of Sol, she does not leave the Order and becomes a Knight alongside Yord.
Qimir is a failed apprentice of the rule of two, who is trying to build a strong Acolyte to defeat his Master.
They are killing Jedi and stealing their lightsabers, so that Qimir can then test them with the ritual of the bleeding crystal.
Mae managed to get off Brendok thanks to a crew of lost merchants that got on the planet, with whom she runs away with.
Jecki becomes Sol's Padawan at 17, because her previous master fell ill and could not teach her anymore.
The murdered Jedi at the start of the story are 6, and some had been Osha's friends
Osha is still going to fall to the dark side, but I'm also gonna give her a redemption (I think, still not sure about this part honestly)
Yord and Osha are besties, yes this is gonna be important for very tragic reasons.
I'll add tons of OCs obviously, so beware.
This is what I have for now lol
Also thanks to @armoralor for the idea of Osha running away and getting in the Jedi ship on her own , you're the reason I'm currently bursting with ideas for this rewrite lol
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schrodingerscougar · 9 months ago
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A proposal (Yoshii Toranaga x reader)
Note: I love his wife, but for the sake of this she has to go. RIP. Anyway, I just had to get this out of my system.
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Toranaga’s wife had fallen ill weeks ago, rumor had it she didn’t have much time left. And ever since then, he has been visiting your family more and more often, watching you like a hawk the whole time, as if he was carefully studying you for future reference.
Your parents didn’t tell you anything, but you saw the meaningful looks he and your father exchanged. Everything pointed in the direction that he wanted to take you with him, probably to take his wife’s place in the event of her passing.
“You know why I am here, don’t you?” he asked you one evening over dinner.
You looked down at the floor and tried to gather your thoughts. Everything you knew was based on theories, possibilities your mind came up with to explain the past weeks’ happenings. “I believe it is related to your wife’s illness, Lord Toranaga,” you noted quietly.
His tired eyes were set on you and he let out a long sigh upon hearing your answer. “You are right, it is. She sadly passed away two days ago.” Before you could say anything, he raised a hand to stop you. “I want you to come with me.”
“Why?”
Your father warned you to behave, to keep your tongue tied unless you had something intelligent to add to the conversation. You nodded obediently even though you didn't agree with this. You felt like you had the right to know, to learn what exactly he was planning with you.
To your surprise, Toranaga smiled at you, a gesture that seemed so alien minutes after hearing him speak about his wife's death. “I believe she has the right to know,” he said eventually. “You will be my wife.”
With that he confirmed your theory, causing your heart to sink to your stomach. You didn't want that. He had been nothing but nice to you, still, it just didn't feel right. His wife was a kind woman, you would never dare to even consider replacing her.
“Don't look so sad. It is a great honor,” your mother told you quietly.
“Why don't we go for a walk? It is such a nice evening,” Toranaga offered, gesturing towards the garden.
Your father nodded, giving you a look that was more of an order to do as he wished. So you stood up and followed him outside, walking by his side in silence until he finally decided to speak up. Sometimes he glanced over at you with the same curious eyes you had seen back in the house.
After he made sure you were alone, he came to a halt and said, “I can assure you, this is more than just politics. You are a very clever young woman, you caught my eye almost two years ago. But I didn’t want you to be any less than a proper wife. I assumed you might get married and I could finally get the thought of you out of my head.”
The sincerity in his voice made you realize he was telling the truth. You looked over at him, eyes locking in the silence that was only broken by a few birds flying by. “Is it a good idea? Getting feelings involved, I mean,” you clarified.
“It is hard to put my feelings aside when it comes to you. All I know is that I couldn't stand the thought of you being someone else's wife when you could be mine.” He reached out to touch your face, his fingers moving under your chin to make you look at him. “I will give you anything you want. I promise.”
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sapphim · 1 month ago
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Since everyone's been so nice about the other snippet I posted 👉👈 here are the good bits from sth else with the warden squad I wrote last year (since I might never get around to sprucing up the long and boring bits). Right after Lothering before anyone involved knows how to get along with each other so they're all kind of just standing around being assholes 🩷
"Not to catastrophize," Alistair says, to nobody in particular, "but when they find their way back and inform us with deep regret that they have no idea where we are or where we're going and we all die in the woods after wandering in circles for weeks, I'm going to say 'I told you so'."
"That's not going to happen."
Alistair twists around to gawk at Sten. The Qunari soldier has been standing at the outskirts of the group, stone-faced and completely unmoving—as far as Alistair can tell—since they paused their slow march through the woods.
"I think that's the first thing I've heard you say all day," he says incredulously. "Humor me. Why won't it?"
"Because in this scenario you've crafted in your mind, you'll be too dead to say 'I told you so'."
"They'll be my dying words," Alistair insists. "As I lay dying in the underbrush I'll croak, 'I told you this is exactly how it would happen, Sten,' and then I'll perish on the spot. See if I don't."
"I look forward to it," Sten says. "At least then you'll be quiet."
"It'll be a touching moment," Alistair says, settling back down into his seat at the base of a tree and staring up into the canopy, "and you'll miss me when I'm gone. You'll see."
"If it will make you feel any better," Zevran pipes up from his seat on low branch a short distance away, "if the end does come—which I very much doubt, mind, given what a capable group you have assembled here—I can swear that I will ensure you a swift and dignified death."
"Absolutely not," Alistair growls.
"My apologies," Zevran says mildly, as he has found himself doing not infrequently over the last few days since his initial ill-fated encounter with the wardens. "The offer was meant with no ill intent."
"Do not stab me."
"What's that?" Micah asks, pointing upward. Alistair and Rafael crane their heads to look at the rustling tree branch she's indicated.
"That, my dear, is another squirrel," Zevran says.
"Squirrel," she repeats under her breath.
"Don't have squirrels in Orzammar?" Alistair says, conversationally.
"We've got nugs," Micah says. "And moles. Mice. Deepstalkers. No squirrels."
"I guess everywhere has mice," Rafael muses.
"The one thing that unites us despite all our differences," Alistair agrees. "Mice in the larder. Hey, Sten, do Qunari have–"
"They're returning," Sten interrupts, nodding curtly in the direction of more rustling brush, where glimpses of Leliana's pale skin and vivid red hair can be caught through the trees.
The mabari crashes out of the underbrush first, panting and wiggling with an excess of excitement. A few moments later, the rest of the wayward scouts rejoin the waiting party.
"We have determined the proper course to reach our destination, and located a camp site for the night," Morrigan announces. "No need to thank us."
"And we saw the fattest squirrel I've ever seen in my life," Leliana adds cheerfully. The dog barks in agreement.
Morrigan sighs. "Yes. And—more importantly—a sight which has never before been witnessed by man nor beast. A fat squirrel. Again, no need to–"
"Could you tell if something is possessed by a spirit?" she asks.
The young mage twists the cuffs of his sleeves between his fingers, chewing on his lip. "I– I should be able to," he says. "Yes. I– Yes, I can do that."
"Spoken with remarkable confidence," Morrigan says dryly, earning her a reproachful glare from Alistair.
"Not all that many haunted trees in the middle of the lake, I'd think," he says.
"There was a cat, once," Rafael says, "that got possessed by a demon and went on a rampage through the tower. It killed three templars before they brought it down."
"Ah, 'tis a heartwarming tale that would bring a smile to anyone's face, would it not?"
The mabari huffs and snorts in response.
"Aw, I bet a nasty demon cat would be no match for you," Alistair says, crouching to scratch the pleased mabari vigorously behind the ears. "Isn't that right, Barkspawn? Because you're a good boy! Yes you are!"
"We weren't allowed to have cats in the tower after that," Rafael mutters in conclusion.
"Not allowed," Morrigan repeats derisively. "'Tis a wonder that anything would be allowed to begin with."
"For the mice," Rafael says glumly.
Alistair extricates himself with some effort from the wet, sloppy kisses the mabari is determined to plant all over his face. "Did you get demon mice after that?" he asks, with the gleeful tone of someone who has only just considered the possibility of demon mice and finds it funnier than they probably should.
As they fall into line behind the Dalish elf, Micah muses aloud to no one in particular, "So, I'm not entirely sure what a cat is."
Eydis snorts derisively. "It's a surface animal with four legs and a tail. I've been here as long as you have. How do you not know that?"
"Excuse me?" Micah snaps. "You just described every surface animal. They all have four legs and a tail. Or they're birds."
"It's got fur."
"They've all got fur. You're just describing the dog."
The dog in question barks.
"Smaller than the dog. And with a fluffy tail."
"That's squirrels."
"Bigger than squirrels," Eydis huffs. "They were all over the human settlements. Pay more attention next time, brand."
"Watch it, salroka," Micah growls.
"Perhaps I could draw some pictures tonight," Leliana says appeasingly.
"Perhaps you should write a song in memory of the princess, in case I finally kill her tonight."
"Don't be so sensitive," Eydis chastises.
"I've been lead to understand that we are all strictly forbidden from killing each other here," Zevran interrupts cheerfully, "or is that just me?"
"Do not stab me," Alistair repeats.
"I swear on my life," Zevran says, "I will make no attempt to harm you unless I am paid a great deal more coin and I have reason to understand that forsaking your company would be to my overall benefit. Neither of which I forsee happening in the middle of a haunted forest. Perhaps that may set your mind at ease?"
"That doesn't set my mind at ease! Why would that make me feel better?"
"Because I am being extremely honest right now," Zevran says. "Unless you would prefer I lie?"
"I would not."
"Nobody is killing anybody," Leliana says.
"Only a fool would do the work of his enemy for him," Sten says.
"Oh! That's very wise, Sten."
"It is not. It's common sense."
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kuerie · 10 months ago
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rocky and his water motif
ive seen a few people analyze rocky and his symbolism with water, and i thought id jump on the train and contribute what ive found. i looked through every piece of art in the gallery and messed around with the dead drop to find everything here! with that being said…
obvious spoiler warnings! and warning for a lot of speculation and over analyzing! a lot of things i mention are really big stretches but i added them anyways incase anyone else wants to look into it more
starting where the pilot starts and near the start of the comic (the page “lackadaisy dithyramb”), right off the bat we have an entire poem from rocky dedicated to the mississippi river. this iconic poem is literally just about the river, and he recites it in both scenes from on the bridge over the river.
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note that in both cases there is also a crescent moon featuring in the background
more poetry! this one is from the comic on the page “lackadaisy doggerel”. this is actually one of my favourite pages in the comic, its very cool! we have this poem that, again, is entirely about water. it talks about water in a metaphorical way, comparing it to memory and the passage of time. maybe ill try to analyze this poem sometime but idk im not very good at that stuff. seems to talk about rockys past but im not sure
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i didnt want to just put this entire page here but i will note that the page has a raging storm, an ocean, a water mill, another storm cloud and a waterfall all picured above rocky, who, in this case is ahem under water, in a way.
last bit of poetry im talking about is probably the most relevant. rockys feauture in the “lacrimosa” poem/halloween artwork shows him seemingly drowning outside a window.
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the significance of it being outside a window is somewhat unclear to me, as every other character appears in something reminiscent of a picture frame. my only idea is that its meant to show him outside of what could be a home, in reference to him getting the “unceremonious boot”. the text emphasizes this idea, saying hes away from home
this next one is more obscure and much more of a stretch! after digging around in sketchbook pages, i found this tiny little sketch on a page simply labeled “lackadaisy preview 0018”. the sketch page features sketches that were used for the page “lackadaisy palaver” in the comic, and a few bonus doodles. this was one of the bonus doodles, and i cant seem to find a comic pannel that matches it anywhere.
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this sketch could be a lot of things, its a bit hard to tell. most likely, its an unsused pannel of rocky that was going to be used on the comic page. maybe him on whe windshield, or something like that. that being said, the first thing i thought of was the lacrimosa art. its a stretch but i thought id add it, just in case! who knows really
next up is rockys character artwork, which features him standing on a barrel floating in a river.
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be careful rocky, you might fall! one little detail about this art that i like is that hes quite literally hiding his sadness behind his back. and again, the crescent moon motif features in the background. the cattails in this image also remind me of this scene in the pilot
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…but i mean cattails do grow near water so i dont think that means anything
speaking of the pilot, this scene has rocky accidentally blowing up a water tower and flooding the area, and getting a whole bunch of water dumped on him
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be careful rocky, you might get hurt! ...i dont think he cares
one last note from the pilot (for now) is a line from mitzi after rocky comes back with alcohol for them. it could mean nothing, could be foreshadowing, who knows
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note in the second image: “rest” as in the rest of the alcohol they were meant to bring back
the music video for liquid gold ends with rocky dropping a bottle and the golden liquid flooding the room
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i wasnt even looking for water symbolism when i found this, i was just rewatching the music video for fun! i just about had a heart attack when it ended like that D: rocky please dont drown
back to the comics! sorry this is a bit all over the place. forgive me for just uploading an entire comic page, but the page “lackadaisy thunderhead” features rocky standing over a river. at the bottom of the pannel on the right there are daisys, a symbol that features in a lot of rockys artwork and is generally associated with the lackadaisy speakeasy. the daisys could just be for aesthetics or to frame the pannel better, but its also notable that they appear where the water is.
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the name “thunderhead” is interesting given some other pannels
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not sure what it means though
the very first scene in the comic aside from the introduction shows rocky at the river.
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in the page “lackadaisy trouble boys” from the early concept art mitzi makes a comment about rockys aim, and makes an… interesting metaphor
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side note: im gonna cry is that actually how rocky gets the little hole in his ear lmao
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the mini comic “wilderness” has rocky climbing out of a small muddy pool of water claiming “the waters great”, despite looking absolutely horrible. isnt shown here, but he says he cant feel his legs and calls for freckle to come back.
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knock knock! its time for the playing cards! rockys card depicts him as the 8 of spades, although hes also been shown as the ace of clubs multiple times.
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first up, 8 of spades! i really like this art but i have a lot of questions. for one, why is rocky holding a shovel and whats with the lantern? theres nothing wrong with it, just caught my attention since i think freckle is drawn with shovels a lot more than rocky (might be wrong on that though) second, this is the only picture i can find where you can CLEARLY see rockys head injury healed. cool! third, the outfit hes wearing is… atypical for rocky, you could say. for obvious reasons. he always wears blue, why suddenly the change to black? and obviously, the choice of making him the 8 of spades. some quick google searches and this is what i found: from various websites (the first things that popped on on google), apparently spades symbolizes the winter season and the water element. it seems to represent old age, change, wisdom and acceptance. the number 8 supposedly represents victory, prosperity and overcoming. i was going to put images, but i could only have 30 and i ran out of space lmao im so sorry this is SO LONG djfjsjnrfj
make of it what you will. as for the ace of clubs:
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my google searches were much less interesting so ill just put my own thoughts. the clubs is likely just for the association with the lackadaisy speakeasy, as in both of these cases he is shown alongside other characters from the lackadaisy and everyone has clubs. as for him being the ace, the main notable thing about the ace is that its generally the highest card.
the main idea i personally took from these cards is the idea rocky will possibly not be a part of the lackadaisy in the furure. we see him in his classic outfit, no head injury as the ace of clubs, with clubs being associated with the lackadaisy. but we also see him with a healed head injury (so clearly in the future) with a new outfit and no more clubs suit.
not sure if this is even notable but this entire (very iconic) scene in the comic takes place in the rain
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be careful rocky, you might get shot!
and now, even more crescent moon motifs
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so why have i been pointing this out? well its undeniable that rocky also has motif with this crescent moon. i have no idea what it means but heres my very quick five minute thoughts on it: one: the moon controls the tide. obviously a river doesnt really have a tide, but still! theres some association with water there, so its notablea. two: this might be a stretch but in the pilot theres this very memorable frame where it shows the reflection of the moon (which initially looks like a cat) ahem in the water. obviously water reflects stuff so its not abnormal for the moon to reflect in the water but i just thought it was cool!
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aaaand last but not least
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this analysis was brought to you while listening to hatsune miku, i probably made a lot of typos so yell at me and ill fix them but not my grammar its terrible and im not fixing that, lmk your thought and if i missed anything, thank you for reading have a nice day sorry it was so long <3
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