#not even in the empty plot 😔

[sunforgrace]

sometimes i forget that dean very much had a canonical romance with a character who was an angel that’s very much something which happened

[squoxle]

pls write a jay dad au and wife😔🙏🏻

Well, since you asked so nicely...how about we start your day with a little...

Coffee After Sex ~ P.JS

☕︎ pairing: soft dom!husband!jay x sub!wife!reader | ☕︎ wc: 3.3k | ☕︎ plot: after a recent job promotion, you have been spending less and less time with your husband. | ☕︎ cw: 🔞MDNI!! this fic contains a combo of smut, fluff, crack, and angst with a hot cup of coffee in the morning.

The feeling of Jay's breath on your neck sent chills up your spine as he left soft, wet kisses along your neck.

You felt his warmth against your body, a sensation you had missed for far too long.

Nothing could take the place of him at this moment.

Nothing...except for the fact that this was all a dream and Jay had left you alone in bed hours ago. You looked over to the spot where he laid next to you and brushed your hand across the cool, empty space.

You pulled his pillow to your chest as you laid in silence, the delicate rays from the sun peeked through the blinds hidden behind the floor-length white curtains. Tears rolled down the side of your face, wetting the pillow slightly as sweet thoughts of him flashed through your mind.

You thought back to the last time you took a family vacation, the twins were a little younger at that time, but you still had fun playing in the sparkling beach sand. You rolled onto your back, looking up at the ceiling before climbing out of bed.

The cold floorboards kissed your feet as you walked to a pair of fluffy slippers. A lot of times it was easier to just keep yourself busy, focusing on the present rather than going into a mini depressive state. But you couldn't help it, you missed his laugh, his smile, the smell of him cooking breakfast on the weekends, and the way he'd come up behind you and kiss you randomly...some of the many things you loved about him.

Recently your husband's work schedule has been a lot busier than usual. He left earlier in the morning and came home even later.

You'd hope to spend some time with him on the weekends, but it was hard to balance everything with the twins and all of the other things you had to do around the house. Plus, he spent most of the day in the home office anyway. And by the time he came home in the evening, you were already in bed.

But what could you do about it? "This'll just be for a little while and then everything will be back to normal," you thought back to what Jay told you when he first took this promotion. His fingers gliding across the side of your face, brushing the hair behind your ear as your head hung low. He lifted your chin gently to meet your eyes before delicately kissing your lips.

A little while...a lot of times his absence made you feel like a single mom, but you had to stay positive. If not for you, for the kids. Seeing their mom sulking all day wouldn't do them any good.

Today you took the kids out for a trip to the library and picked up a few books before walking over to the nearby park. You sat on the bench and watched them play around together, chasing each other in a game of tag before taking turns pushing one another on the swings.

You saw Jay sit on one of the swings as the twins took turns pushing him. "Argh! You're too heavy, Daddy," your daughter sighed.

"You're just too weak," your son teased, giggling slightly as his sister puffed her cheeks.

"I am not!" she spat. "Watch," she grunted as she pushed with all of her might. Jay used his legs to swing a little higher. "See?" she smiled, tilting her head to the side as she placed her hands on her hips. "Told ya."

"No, I saw Dad use his legs," Jay burst into laughter noticing that his son had picked up on that detail.

"No, he didn't," she shook her head. "Did you Daddy?"

"No, you're just really strong," he chuckled as he swung back and forth.

"He's lying," your son said plainly, folding his arms as his sister stomped over to him, careful not to get hit by the swing.

"Okay," she huffed. "I'll show you how strong I am," she raised her fist at her brother.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he squeezed his fists together, cracking his knuckles.

"Woah, woah, guys calm down," Jay stopped the swing, breaking up the two. "Don't hit your brother, baby," Jay kneeled down to meet her gaze.

"Nah nah," your son poked his tongue out.

"But he just--" she started as Jay cut her off.

"Leave your sister alone. And we don't hit girls in this family, okay," he patted his son's shoulder. "How about I push the both of you? There're two swings."

"No, we wanna push you," they said in unison.

"Well, you gotta play nice, alright," he exchanged looks between the two.

"Okay~" they smiled before running behind him.

"You can push him first and then me, okay," your son said, making a deal with his sister.

"Okay," she smiled. "Hurry up, daddy. Sit down," she jumped excitedly as Jay sat down, waiting to be pushed.

Their little grunts mixed with his laughter caused your nose to tingle as tears gathered at your waterline. It was as if you could see Jay everywhere, but it was all just your imagination trying to fill that void for you.

You used the back of your hand to wipe away the wetness from your eyes before walking over to join the kids in whatever game they were playing.

After a busy day, you finally had the chance to relax after laying the kids down for bed. You ended up reading two of the books you picked up earlier since they couldn't decide on one. You flicked on the carousel nightlight before walking out of the room, leaving the door cracked enough that you could peek in and check on them without disturbing them.

Your husband, Jay, had texted you around lunchtime that he would be working late again tonight, but he'd try to get home as soon as possible.

This had been going on for the past few months and you were starting to miss him more than ever, but you didn't want to stress him out with your feelings so this was something you kept to yourself.

You went over a mental checklist to make sure you took care of everything before getting ready for a bath. You walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to double-check that you packed a lunch box for Jay before switching off all of the lights and heading back to your room.

You started the bathwater as you shuffled through your drawers to pull out an oversized T-shirt. You climbed into the warm water and thought back to your dream from this morning.

You wished you could spend more time with him like you used to. Wished he could be sitting behind you right now with his arms wrapped around you, kissing your shoulder, and playing with the bubbles that floated on top of the water.

You rested your head on the cool, smooth, acrylic outer surface of the bathtub as music played through your headphones. You closed your eyes and drifted away in your mind as you felt a set of lips leave a kiss on your cheek.

"Jay?" you thought to yourself. You opened your eyes and turned around in the water to see nothing but your king-sized bed peeking through the door. "Must my mind playing tricks on me again," you sighed as you turned around to lay your head back down.

Soon after you zoned out in your music, you felt a hand glide along the side of your face. This time you felt kisses trail from your cheek down to your shoulder. You opened your eyes to see Jay hovering over you.

He was wearing his black work slacks and a plain white tee. You felt his warm hands press into the soft, moist skin on your shoulders. “Hope you don’t mind if I join,” he smirked as you turned around.

“Not at all,” you smiled back, watching as he undressed himself.

“Don’t think you’re getting this show for free,” he chuckled. “A view like this can be pretty pricey y’know?”

“I’m sure I can afford it,” you giggled back.

You loved how your husband liked to joke around here and there. This was one aspect about his personality that made you fall for him in the first place.

You turned off your phone and reached over to place it on the countertop near the sink. Bubbles covered the lower half of your body, but the silhouette was still very visible.

“Nice ass,” Jay smiled as he eyed your naked body. He was only wearing his boxers now, the rest of his clothes were kicked in a corner and balled up.

You shook your head in response as he stepped into the bath water. “C’mere,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled you close. It was quiet for a moment as you laid against his slightly wet skin before reality set in.

“What’s with the sudden change of attitude? You’ve been so quiet lately,” you toyed with the wedding band around his finger as you laid between his legs.

“I missed my wife,” he said softly, pulling your hand to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. “And my kids.”

“Hmm, well we missed you too,” you hummed.

You listened to the deep, rhythmic beats of his heart as you rested your head against him. Aside from the warmth of the water, you missed the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

Were you finally getting what you’d been waiting months for? To feel the strong embrace of your husband and the comfort that came with it? Whatever it was, you wanted to enjoy every last second of it.

You felt his breath on your neck as he rested his chin in the crevice of your shoulder. "Hey!" you exclaimed as you felt his fingers rub against your clit. He giggled at your reaction.

"Has it really been so long that my touch surprises you," he mumbled in between kisses.

"No, I just--"

"I'm kidding," he chuckled. "I'd be shocked if you touched me like that too."

A playful smirk grew across your face as you grinded your ass against him, the gentle sounds of the water matching the movements of your body. He groaned slightly as you stimulated him. "Are you shocked yet," you whispered, looking over your shoulder as you met his lustful gaze.

"Almost," he smiled, kissing your lips again. "I wanna see what else you can do," he bit your lower lip before you turned around to face him. He raised his knees up to get a little more comfortable as his back pressed up against the walls of the tub.

You straddled his wet body, the water level at your waist as you leaned over his shoulder. He pulled you closer as he lined his tip up with your opening. You slowly lowered down, taking in every inch as he held you by the waist.

The strokes were slow, but this gave you the chance to watch his facial expression contort as you bounced up and down. You teased his cock as you paused randomly, flashing him a playfully seductive glare.

"Are you gonna be a tease the whole time or are you gonna fuck me like a good girl?" he cooed. "I thought you liked it when I played with you like that," you tilted your head to the side as his lips turned into a smirk. He winced, sucking air through his teeth as you circled your hips around his tip. You pressed your hands into his shoulders as you plopped back down on him, filling yourself with his cock.

The water rocked with your hips, matching your movements, filling the room with its delicate splashing sounds. "Mmm, I do but," he moaned as you took this as an opportunity to pick up the pace.

"But what, baby?" you huffed. "But, I wanna fuck you so badly right now," he groaned. "You'll get your turn," you smiled. "I wanna have a little more fun like this," he hummed as you said these words, you could feel the desperation increase with every movement.

You listened as soft, sweet moans escaped his lips while you rode him. Every so often you would hit his good spot, causing him to throw his head back and lift his hips up slightly to buck into you.

His breathing quickened and began more ragged as you changed the speed and movements of your body. He felt your pussy tighten around him as you both came closer to your highs. You leaned back slightly, bracing yourself against his raised knees as he pressed into your lower stomach.

You felt his thumbs pushing hard into your soft flesh as you nearly toppled over. The overwhelming and increased sensation of dick sent you into a mode of overstimulation as you humped faster. Matching your energy, Jay raised his hips to pump deeper into you as muffled screams hid behind your hand.

You knew you had to stay quiet because you had a habit of getting carried away with the noise. "I've had enough of this," Jay huffed, guiding you off of him as he leaned you over the edge of the tub. You held your position with your palms as your tits pressed into the coolness of the acrylic layer.

You leaned your head across your hands as you waited for him. You were facing the door as you heard the sounds of him moving behind you. Your eyes jumped open as he spread your legs apart. You felt the top of his head bump into your stomach before the feeling of his tongue lapping at your entrance overwhelmed your senses.

"Ngh!" you yelped, in this position it was a little harder to cover your mouth so you just stuffed your face into the fold of your arms. "Ahh!" you gasped as he jammed his fingers into you, coating them in your juices as continued eating you out.

He finger fucked you faster as you leaned more and more over the edge. You were struggling to stay in one spot as he gripped onto your ass, holding you in place as nearly came right on his face. You caught your breath as he ripped his fingers out and climbed out from between your legs.

"I want you to finish with my cum inside of you," he hummed as he lined up behind you. You moaned, faced still stuffed into your arms, as he slammed his dick into you. "Already tightening up?" he cooed as he felt your entrance had tightened up slightly compared to earlier.

"It's my turn now," he hummed, grabbing a handful of your hair in his hand before pulling your head back to face him. "Look at me while I fuck you," he groaned as one hand wrapped around the base of your chin, squeezing your lips together.

You panted breathlessly as fucked into you harder. "Who's pussy is this," he smacked your ass as you moaned with his touch. "Say it," he pushed, taking his free hand to rub your clit. Your body trembled in his grasp "You better say something or I'll stop right now," he huffed.

"It's yours," you yelped. "It's yours, baby," you whined in a shaky voice before he sucked your lips in for a rough kiss.

"Good girl," he grunted as he pushed your head down. You felt his hips smacking into your ass as he groaned in pleasure. He kept up the pace until finally spilling his seed inside of you.

The two of you laid there breathless, panting with your wet bodies, both from sweat and the water that swayed beneath you. It wasn't long before you climbed out of the tub and went straight to bed, naked and slightly damp, especially Jay's hair which got wet when he ate you out.

As much as you enjoyed that little surprise with Jay, you hated the feeling that came over you once he finally fell asleep. You looked over his features, lightly touching his face as you thought about how he'd be gone in the morning...just like always.

Your husband was starting to feel like another part of your imagination, every good moment being tainted by the feeling of abandonment. You closed your eyes looking at him with tears in your eyes as you drifted off to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open as the colors of the sun danced across your bedroom floor. As usual, you woke up to see the covers pushed back on his side, reminding you that you were alone again. You sat up before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You slipped into a pair of panties from your top drawer before pulling a dress over your head and sliding into your slippers.

Interrupting your senses, was the smell of breakfast. You stopped as your hand wrapped around the bedroom doorknob, you listened as the sounds of hushed giggles and food sizzling filled the air around you.

You hoped with everything in your body that this wasn't your mind playing tricks on you again, you weren't sure how much more you could take. But when you opened the door to see the kids huddled over the countertop as Jay swirled a skillet on the stove, you had to blink a few times before realizing that this was really happening.

You slowly walked into the kitchen as Jay welcomed you with a smile. "Good morning, Mommy!" your kids smiled in unison.

"Morning," you waved as you walked over to them, planting a kiss on each of their heads. "What's all of this?"

"We're helping, Dad make breakfast," your son smiled. "I made your coffee."

"I put all the stuff on the pancakes," your daughter chimed in as Jay placed the eggs and bacon on the place.

"Yeah, but you didn't make them," her brother teased.

"I made one," she huffed.

"And where is it now, huh? Oh, that's right, in the trash," he giggled.

"Well, you put salt in the first cup you made for mom. So now who sucks," she poked her tongue out.

"Calm down you guys, you both did a great job. Especially for your first time," Jay smiled as he came behind them, patting them both on the shoulder before coming over to kiss you on the cheek. "We were gonna surprise you in bed," he chuckled.

"Wait, Jay. Don't you have work today?"

"I did," he started as he walked over to the table, placing your breakfast down. "But I called in. I wanted to spend some time with my family today."

The kids climbed onto their barstool as Jay passed them their breakfast. "Thank you," they smiled before they started eating.

"Jay," you gasped. "You didn't have to do that. What if they needed you at work today?"

"Well, my family needs me more. Especially my wife," he tilted his head to the side as he sat down next to you. "This morning," he started in a hushed tone, "When I was about to get out of bed you grabbed my arm and said 'Please don't leave me again.' Your eyes were still closed so I knew you were sleeping, but there was no way in hell I could go to work after something like that."

He reached over to grab your hand, caressing the back as you lowered your head. "Sorry," you whispered quietly.

"Don't be sorry. If I hadn't been working so hard I would've noticed how this change was affecting you sooner. I already contacted my boss about another position and we'll see how it goes from there, but for now, let's enjoy this moment together. Just me, you, and the kids."

❀ Thak you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

[bibibbon]

MHA chapter 423 rant

Ok so this is later than usual and Iam not going to be as active as I want to be due to exams😭 (chemistry is going to kill me tomorrow)

Anyway this chapter was a flipping mess to me and Iam not liking some of the takes Iam seeing like someone somehow blaming izuku for shigarakis death like??!?!!?

Again the lack of izuku intropsection is annoying me. Seriously Izuku please think I wanna see your thought process what's going on behind what you're doing. Like at this point I feel so distant from the MC I can't understand why he is doing anything and everything seems so ooc or in character it's annoying and confusing. Like he pities AFO? What does he think of Shigaraki? Is he not upset that he couldn't save shigaraki? What does he feel about losing his quirk and all? So much we don't know that we should know 😔

Shigaraki is dead so that's it?!?! Also can we talk about how random his last words are. I hated it 😭. I guess Iam glad shigaraki is dead so hori can't ruin him even more but dam that was such a horrible way for him to go. Also why were his last words towards spinner out of all people? Like the manga hasn't really given us a clear focus on their relationship just a few moments here and there. Also, I would of liked for shigaraki to at least say thanks to izuku or something like that. I don't know but all of this felt empty and if hori does somehow decide to bring Shigaraki back which I doubt it, it would be worse. Ok but like I low-key love seeing the OFA vestiges also punch AFO in shigarakis side

Still hated how this fight went and bakugo just had to make an entrance. I have already voiced my opinions here but due to the lack of build up and development between Izuku and other characters the whole fight where they come fighting with him feels empty as hell. It just felt like a cheap and quick way for everyone to get their moments and don't get me on bakugo making another comeback like Iam sick of seeing him truly Iam. He had his moment can hori not leave him to rest?

I didn't care for AFO. I think he should of been dead long ago. I think I have also made it clear that I don't like the way AFO is written. He had potential and I genuinely love the analysis that his fans give him but I don't like him at all especially because to me the plot revolves around him in such an aggravating way that it makes it so that the root of all evil and problems is due to AFO. Like ok cool afo is dead and with yoichi but shouldn't and couldn't help for just done that himself? Like I simply can't seem to comprehend the main villain of the story being like this

Rip kurogiri for caring way too much about shigaraki just for him to not care about you at all.

Also extra rip for izuku because he couldn't save the one person he wanted to and gran Torino was right shigaraki should of been killed and all of this would if been avoided at this point

[hyuukais]

Swan Song

Jeongin lived his life freely, indulging in peasantry parties and reckless acts. However, after a confrontation and strange encounter, he realizes that maybe his freedom can only come from saving a swan.

word count: 6.2k

genres: Prince!Jeongin x Swan Prince(ss)!Reader, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, swan lake au

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, drunk beomgyu, i fear i may have lost the plot a little,,,jeongin is ready to do anything for a stranger, villian jyp jumpscare, also the reader is called princess a few times by jyp while he’s being a creep but otherwise remains gn

author: heyyyy i’m so sorry it’s been like 8 months since my last post 😭 also i’m so so so so sorry that this request took so long 😔 i really hope you can still enjoy it 🙏

requested by @lwavander

Little can be heard over the masses filling the garden. Their chatter echoes off the tiered terraces. Jeers and cheers slur into the empty night sky, surrounding Jeongin in their halo of celebration. Friends and strangers alike have gathered in his honor. They’ve piled up in the fields of the castle to share their drinks and joy; cups clashing and always kept full. Merry music played and Jeongin’s companions pulled him through rounds of rigorous dancing. Song after song, Heeseung kept a hand glued to the young man, always pulling him back to the fray. It was truly a birthday fit for a prince, at least one like him.

Since he was young, Jeongin had heard all of the complaints. The disagreements of countless officials with the carefree outlook of the crowned prince. However, Jeongin had decided young that he would never let anyone else control his life; commonplace for those like him, those born and bred for societal perfection. In these moments, Jeongin relishes freedom’s delicious taste. The bittersweet burn of the finest wines settling on his tongue, the ache of his feet, and his heavy beating heart, he was never so alive. 

He found a small reprieve from his friend’s clutches, looking down from the veranda lining the grounds. Watching peasant and noble alike rub shoulders and hold hands as they danced. The view brought a smile to his face as he took a sip from his goblet. A harsh slap to his shoulder splashed some wine up his nose, causing a cough. Expelling the stray droplets, Jeongin found the tight-knuckle grip belonged to a drunken Beomgyu. The shaggy-haired man reeked of alcohol and was almost unable to stand straight, instead pulling down on Jeongin. Liquid sloshed in and out of his own cup as he waved his hands around.

“Jeong~in!” His words were slow and slurred. “Wha’ are you doin’ all alone, Innie-hic? You shoul’ be dancing!” Then he’s tugging even harder on Jeongin’s arm. Yanking on his undershirt and nearly tearing the sleeve.

“Wow, wow, wow, Beomgyu! Gyu! I think-” It was nearly impossible to pry the fingers from his arm. “P-perhaps you should take a break.” It’s even harder to pull the cup from his hand.

Gyu’s whining is harsh on the ears, “Nooooo! No! I’s a party! Have fun!” He tries hard to twist away from the prince, thrusting the hand holding his cup high in the air and loudly proclaiming. “I drink for the prince! Prin’ Jeongin!”

A roar rose from the lawn. Music fell beneath the masses’ clamor. Crowds follow suit of his friend’s cheer, raising their cups with a unanimous shout. “For Prince Jeongin!”

The man felt his face flushing red hot. There was certainly a difference between being amongst the crowd and standing away with all of their eyes on him, calling out his name. He was flattered if not slightly embarrassed, managing a flustered smile as the cheers melted back into the music.

 A very drunk lord still wobbling in his arms, Jeongin tried to steer him away from the railing. Instead, herding Beomgyu back into the castle. Walking along the terrace toward the doorway, the man whined and protested as best he could. His eyes couldn’t stay open and his boots skidded along the stones. Jeongin tried his best to keep Beomgyu upright as he led the way; his hands slipping under the weight. Finally squaring up to the grand wooden doors, he’s confronted with his next problem. How was he supposed to open them? Perhaps he could hunt down Heeseung to enlist his help. However, knowing the man, he was probably no better off than Beomgyu was. Suddenly, almost like a prayer was answered, the doors swung inward, scattering yellow shadows into the night. However, the illusion of a miracle quickly vanished as Jeongin came face-to-face with the Queen’s boiling stare.

His mother’s eyes bore down like hot coals, huffing smoke from her mouth with each seething breath. Jeongin felt his knees melting, withering in her stare. 

“H-hello, Mother.”

Beomgyu stirred in his hold, eyes lighting up, “Y-our ‘ighness!” Almost immediately after he made a horrible retching noise, nothing came up and he groaned painfully.

The Queen motioned her head to the pair of guards flanking her, never breaking eye contact with her son. “You two, please show Lord Choi to his room.” Her voice was dangerously steady.

Neither of them spoke, only nodding before collecting the man from Jeongin’s arms. The tension in the air seemed to multiply as they were left alone. The Queen’s breaths came faster and heavier, eyes hardening as they took in the man in front of her. Jeongin stood frozen, unable to even breathe. Any words would only make it worse for him. So there they stood, in suffocating silence, until his mother heaved a sigh, lowering her head in its weight.

“M-mom-”

“Jeongin,” She raised her hand, cutting him off. As she looked back up, the dark of her eyes had cooled. Red, hot anger solidified into something heavy in Jeongin’s chest. “I have a feeling you already know what I am going to say.”

He averted his eyes.

“You know that I want you to be happy, that I never want to force you into something you do not want. I understand you cherish your freedom, but-I…my son this is not freedom. This is chaos, irresponsibility. Like it or not, you are going to be king one day. You need to start behaving like it.”

“I-I am! I’m getting to know my subjects-”

“No, you are getting drunk. You are acting childish and-” Two fingers rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I expect more from you, Jeongin. I need to know that I can trust you with this country. I am only getting older and I fear it may take an unwilling push to get you to understand.” The look in her eyes sank his heart further and further, her sigh sad and heavy. “Enjoy your birthday, son. We will continue this tomorrow.”

Turning her back, the Queen swept back inside, shutting the doors with her. For the first time in the night, Jeongin was left completely alone. Alone in bitter silence. Thoughts churned slowly around his head. A horrible burn settled deep in his chest. Sounds of celebration still filtered through the air, making the pain worse. Suddenly, Jeongin cared very little about continuing his birthday. Surrounded by drunken strangers and the hollowness of their well-wishes, he felt empty at the thought. The sun long gone, he should have retired to his room with it. Now, his mind was too full, too chaotic to rest. The castle walls were a prison in times like these. He needed a jailbreak if only for a moment, just to take in the impending collapse of his flimsy lifestyle.

Crisp moonlight scatters in the pine’s canopy. The towering woods echo Jeongin’s footsteps grinding up the dry brush. It breaks the silence of the cold night and punctuates his every move. This forest bordering the castle grounds was not unfamiliar to the prince, spending much of his youth traversing its scape. Even in the near darkness, he may safely make his way back home. However, amongst the barren trees, Jeongin feels lost within himself. He was no stranger to the disappointment of others, it was something he had long learned to ignore. Yet, he never knew how to endure the disappointment of his mother. Now, something in her chagrin felt resolute, like she’d hit her breaking point. All the man could do was stew over the ways he would be made to repent.

Leaf-litter cradles his heavy tread weighed down by his brooding. With a particularly loud crunch, a large rustling grew overhead. The familiar flap of feathers broke through the branches. A bevy of swans flies above the trees. Their pure white wings gleam, haloed in the full moonlight. Jeongin’s thoughts fall quiet. Enraptured in the birds’ majesty gliding through the air; his feet unconsciously followed their path along the ground. Walking a few feet beyond the clearing he’d been in, the birds disappeared in the flush canopy. Still, he keeps forward, looking as the trees thin out once again. No sight of their velvet down among the stars, however peeking between trunks, Jeongin catches sight of rippling water.

A great lake sits at the edge of the forest; water clear blue and twinkling. Drifting along its surface are many more swans than he’d originally seen. They pay the man no mind as he comes upon the bank. Instead, Jeongin watches a swan move along to the edge of the water, stretching its neck out on the grass. An odd light shifts across its feathers, glowing almost as if they were burning. He can’t focus on it for long when the light grows bright. In the second he blinked, where once was a beautiful swan, now sat a young human draped in the same pristine white. 

In shock, he stumbles back, feet catching on loose rocks and ultimately sending Jeongin crashing down. A gasp and splashes ring out at the sight of the intruder. Swans’ wings flap wildly and they scatter out across the water. The person crouched in the grass seems frozen, caught like cowering prey. Coated in the sweet moonlight, dipped in silver. Their eyes shine and quiver, unblinking. Jeongin feels frozen just the same. Scared to make a sound, to approach this angelic being born from the moon before his very eyes. Neither moves, sharing unending stares until Jeongin finally grasps at the words he was missing.

“Wh-what?” 

The realization is quiet, almost unnoticeable if not for the great release of tension in the air. He can see it in the droop of their shoulders and the slow blinking of their eyes. They stand from the dewy grass, revealing a long tunic woven with swan feathers and silver cord shimmering against their skin. Jeongin’s heart stutters at the sight of this stranger’s pure allure. It hammers hard on his ribs when they begin walking toward him.

“Are you okay?” A kind hand reaches for him but Jeongin can only focus on their face. The way their eyes glitter and wrinkle in a soft smile. Their skin folds like silk around pretty smile lines. As he takes their hand, their warmth is gracious like a starry summer night. 

“I apologize if I surprised you. I understand that it’s not something you see every day.” They help him to his feet.

He is at a complete loss for words, mouth agape like a floundering fish. “Wha-wh…who? Who are you?”

“Ah, yes,” The question seems to strike a nerve, their gaze downcast and hands detaching from his. They look to be thinking particularly hard. “I…My name is Y/n.”

A million more questions race around his head, yet the years of proper etiquette hammered into him take over. “I am Jeongin, Prince Jeongin.” He bows low which draws another smile from Y/n.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jeongin.”

He nods, “So, you-you’re a swan?”

Their laugh rings like bells in the snow, twinkling like constellations; a sound Jeongin wishes he could bottle and listen to forever. “By day, yes, I am only a swan. However, by night, I and my companions may become ourselves once again, by the lakeside.” They gaze back to the water where some of the other swans have returned to floating.

“But how?” Something rings in his mind that he is far too calm at the moment. He ignores the thought 

“I was cursed.” Their shoulders fall tense with an invisible struggle, “By a horrible man.”

“Who? Why would he do that to you?”

Y/n’s eyes are glassy as they take his hand again. They lead Jeongin to the lake’s edge, sitting down beside him. Their focus strays far away, traveling across the reflections dancing atop the water. 

“Lord Jinyoung was a family friend, the grand Sorcerer to the King, my father.”

The soft-spoken words send Jeongin’s heart to a stop. “Wait, King?!”

“Yes, a kingdom once stood tall along this disparaging land, small but mighty. My Togorum.” Their voice broke with a sniffle. “Until Lord Park betrayed us. He poisoned my father and tried to marry my mother. He wanted her power and-and when she denied him…He-he- '' Tears raced down Y/n’s cheeks, paired with intermittent sobs, “Sh-she was killed right in front of me and I-I was powerless to stop it. With my parents…gone, I, as the heir, was the next rightful ruler, so he forced me to marry him. Apparently, he was losing his magic, and the power of the crown would free him of his limits. So I-uh-I destroyed it and he was infuriated. With the last bits of his power, he destroyed the kingdom and he cursed me to become this.”

Solemnity settled in the air, a quiet understanding of an unknown pain. Jeongin was never one for physical comfort, yet he let his arm mingle along theirs, cradling their hand with a soft squeeze. Their eyes red and puffy and still the most beautiful Jeongin thinks he’s ever seen. Their gaze meets his, curling at the solace of a kind stranger. Perhaps a new friend, a new companion. A smile sits wonderfully on their lips; soft, pretty, so far away.

Jeongin snatches his eyes off Y/n’s face. The night chill cannot calm the heat pooling in his cheeks as he tugs at the grass. “I-um-I’ve never heard of Togorum. I always remembered these forests being a part of my kingdom.”

“Ah-yeah, I guess destroyed isn’t the best phrasing. More so, Jinyoung erased the kingdom. All memory of it, every last trace of what once was. Most of the subjects integrated into new countries believing they’d always been there. I am all that is left of my country, my family, my people, and no one will ever know I exist.”

“Is there no way to reverse the curse?”

Y/n’s head rests atop their knees, fingers skirting along the ground. “Actually, there is,” A bitter chuckle wisps through their teeth. “That worm, Park, in all his cruelty decided an eternity confined to my lonesome was not torture enough. No, he must dangle the intangible possibility of a free future before me like a dumb pet begging for an invisible treat, as well.”

“Oh…well, how can we reverse it?” He asks dumbly, though it stops Y/n in their tracks. Unabashed anger fades to a wide-eyed shock.

“W-we?”

“Oh.” The fire in his face burns hotter, “Um-yes, I-I want to help free you in any way I can, if that’s possible. Is-is that okay? I don’t mean to-”

“No, Jeongin, you-you are very kind. It’s just…” Their voice falls faint. “The only way I may be freed is if…someone, who has never loved before, promises their love to me, forever.”

He cannot be distracted by his name on their lips as the rest of the words come. The thoughts appear before he can stop them. And the feelings for this stranger; a kind and beautiful stranger, almost angelic. It’s sudden and mysterious, struck from his chest in an instant.

“I can do that.”

“Wha-what? Jeongin-no, I-I couldn’t-We’ve only just-I-”

“I know we’ve only just met.” His voice is unprecedentedly steady, yet his hands shake as they reach for Y/n’s, “I may not truly know you yet, but I think that, as I get to, it’d be impossible to not fall in love with you.”

The air settles hot between them, not a breath shared with the stillness. Y/n doesn’t respond, eyes trapped in Jeongin’s. Their gaze is heavy with brows drawn in and lips tight. They look from eye to eye, taking in his sweet, silver-dusted sincerity. In the low light, the red along his ears is still visible. Y/n’s fingertips brush over the skin making the flush worse. They trail over the soft hair hanging on his neck, circling back up to cradle his cheek.

“You mean that.” Not a question, a fact. Like they dove through his eyes down to his heart just to see the truth for themself. It’s shocking, words obscured by breath, bracketed with wide eyes. 

“I d-”

A shout tore through the peace. Y/n’s hand flew off Jeongin’s face with a jerk. In a flash, they were swept back. Everything happened so fast that it took a moment for Jeongin’s eyes to adjust. 

Y/n’s knees were painted in turned-up mud and grass. They keeled at the feet of a new shadow. The moonlight carves the sharp wrinkles rippling along the person’s face. Skin puckered as their high-angled brows drew in. Silver glinted off their teeth bared in a twisting grin. Gnarled fingers curled in the strands of Y/n’s hair, forcing their face up. When the figure spoke a deathly chill sunk in the air.

“Oh, silly princess. What do you think you’re doing?” The voice rattled deep, raking across the ears. Sardonic and sneering. 

Pain crested on Y/n’s face, fighting back with a scowl. “Let me go, you bastard.” 

Four long marks trail up his arm, nails tearing at the skin. Fingers digging into the skin and warning of puncture. Yet, the man remained unphased. His grip over their head grew ever tauter, pulling out a cry. 

Red filtered Jeongin’s vision. He rose to his feet, fueled with a renewed fire building in his veins. Lack of a plan wasn’t going to stop him as he readied to charge. Looking on at the torturous handling of his swan, the man’s cruel eye struck frost upon Jeongin’s feet. He paused and deflated, withered and useless to Y/n with a fresh dread that broke on his face. 

“Oh, look at that!”  A cold laugh coats his skin, “Your perfect little savior is just as weak as you are. ”

Every breath is a labor, forcing at that name draped in their blood, “Fuck you, Jinyoung.” The truth drags Jeongin’s heart into his stomach.

This was the man who had hurt Y/n. Who continues to hurt them. Coming in like he’s some sort of eternal watchguard from hell.

The hearth in his chest burned brighter yet. Chimneying up and out his ears in smoke. Clouds dull his sense of preservation. His calves thaw and scorch with curling fists. No weapon, terror-filled, he steeled his knuckles for pain. Feet braced hard on the ground like a quivering hunter.

“L-let go of them.”

For the second time, he meets Jinyoung’s iced gaze. He wants to curl up again, to cower beneath the fear, to run away and never return. Still, he held steady, looking right back into the all-absorbing, endless black. A twitch picked up on the old man’s lip. “Be careful, young prince. I’d advise you against doing anything unwise, unless you want to lose your pretty bird.”

With the threat his voice grew steadier still, “Let Y/n go.” 

A beat passed, he kept his gaze high. Silence overwhelmed the air. Y/n couldn’t hold in the soft whimpers drawn from their straining scalp. Specks of red broke out beneath their fingertips. Jinyoung didn’t bat an eye.

With almost a shove, he let Y/n crumple to the ground. They landed with a heavy grunt. Jeongin fell to their side. Any medicinal knowledge he might’ve had failed him, however upon a swift inspection, it seemed it probably wasn’t needed. Y/n’s hands rubbed at the sore spot on their head. Fingers twitching, dreadfully hesitant, searching for any disappearing damage. If he spoke too loud, they might wisp away. 

“Are you okay?”

Their eyes are wide and vaguely bloodshot, but their nod is resolute.

Looking back up, Jinyoung was scrutinizing the blood trailing down his arms. He seemed wholly disconcerted at the scarlet sight, throwing his arm back down after a quick moment. Eyes on the two figures cradled in the grass, the wrinkles seared on his face grew darker. Blizzard raging hard, hail builds up in Y/n’s stomach; a fear they could never accept, never escape. They held it down but their strength was always lacking. Jeongin’s soft hands lent an extra warmth to melt the pain but it wasn’t enough.

“What-what do you want, you monster?! Why did you come?!” Their voice shook, tremors racking their body.

“Princess, you know there is only one way I’d ever let you go free. You will never escape, at least not with this…fool.” 

His suggestion shot bile up Y/n’s throat, “You’ll have to kill me before I ever go to you willingly, Jinyoung.”

That sparked a swift downturn of his brow. The once icy darkness of his eyes blazed with an unprecedented heat. Flickering out to the sky, “The sun is rising, your time is up, birdie.”

“Wha-what?” Jeongin follows the warlock’s eyes. The horizon is tinted with soft wisps of orange, still low in the sky but swiftly approaching. “No-no, it was just-”

“Oh how much time talking takes.” He says smugly, turning his back on the two. “Until next time, and do not forget, I am always watching, Y/n.”

Jinyoung left just as he came, melting into the dark. Jeongin would’ve thought he had blinked as his vision went fuzzy.

“How is it already sunrise?”

Y/n leaned up in his hold. Their eyes were blown wide and very red. “I-I don’t-I don’t know, but…I fear he used magic somehow.”

“But I thought he used up the last of his power?”

“So did I. Perhaps it is returning to him.” The words were despondent, dropping off with a saddening expression. Their eyes moved up to his face, studying it for a long moment. He felt stripped bare, vulnerable, and yet wholly safe. Then, they looked on at the glowing sky.

“It…You must go now, Jeongin.”

“But…” Fingers grazed up the swell of his cheek, he wanted nothing more than to give himself to the feeling completely, “Can I see you again? Tonight?”

It was hesitant; their fingers coming to a stop, their breath hitching quietly. Sweet moonstruck face crested in confliction and mustering a smile. “May we meet again soon, my prince.”

Two soft lips brushed his overheating cheek. It’s too much and barely enough. Y/n’s touch is so fleeting, pushing him away to stand on their own. He doesn’t want to leave, he can’t. Jeongin must return to his deluded sense of liberty, to the ending of it all. What Y/n once had, what they desperately deserved, that was true freedom. It was the happiness of being yourself. Deep down he always knew that; he never really wanted this. Now, he’s found that, the thing he does want, a choice that is his. Some may still say his judgment was impaired, but he can’t let this go.

Y/n offered him a kind smile in parting. Jeongin turned away to walk into the blossoming horizon. A new burning desire tugging hard in his gut, he kept moving forward.

“Y/n!” Branches swing into his face. Sun beats down hard through the canopy, mixing atop his overheating skin. He sweats and pants and keeps pushing his legs harder. Feet crash down, overtaking the forest silence. Jeongin tries to recount the path he’d taken the previous night. Although, his mind is only taken up with expletives.

Crashing out from the dense tree line, he stumbles around. He lurches forward, too close to dropping head-first into a shimmering lake. The familiar clearing stretches out his vision. A terrible clamor had broken out on the still waters at his arrival. Waterfowl scattered above the trees. His heart, rocketing in his chest, dropped to his stomach. Catching sight of a flight of swans disappearing into the sky.

“No no no no, Y/n!” He twists himself around, shouting to the clouds. Adrenaline swims up through his body, fuzzing up his senses. He loses all focus on his supposed defeat that he misses the birds left on the lake surface. Instead, a rapid trill behind him jerks his head around. A swan, still perched on the waves, is looking right up at him; head cocked, like a confused dog. Two beady black eyes broken by a soft twinkle only found in stars.

He breathed out, “Y/n.”

The swan doesn’t respond, only looking at him with the same tilted expression. But it didn’t fly away and something swimming through those eyes melted with familiarity. Jeongin squatted down to its level, a thought fleeting about how stupid he must look.

“I…” His words were choppy with winded breaths, “I don’t have much time but I-I needed to come find you. My-my mom is making me get married. She wasn’t happy with me last night, especially after I disappeared until sunrise. Now, she’s throwing a ball for me to…find a partner. It’s tonight.” The swan stayed still. Jeongin’s heart wouldn’t slow down. “Y/n, I-I don’t know if you can understand me, or-or if this is even you, but, Y/n, you need to be there tonight. Maybe marriage is a bit too quick right now, but I’m going to save you and-and then we can rebuild a life for you. But you have to be there, otherwise…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see you again.”

Finally, the bird began to move. Its head pushed back up straight, taking in one last slow look at the boy. Then, it turned around and floated away. Jeongin’s stomach crumpled beneath the weight of his heart. He had no time to breathe in the heartache, the sudden notion of defeat, yet he couldn’t turn his eyes away from the bird. He’d already lost them, and he never even got to fall in love.

The music swelled, bursting out the opening doors. “Now presenting, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeongin.”

A great light broke out on his skin, momentarily blinding him. Applause erupted from beyond the white. He struck a feigned smile, grappling with the stair railing to keep him upright as he made his way to his mother’s side.

As his vision melted back in, he got a full scope of the crowded ballroom. So many faces, so many incredibly unfamiliar faces. He’d had more than a few hours to process his mom’s forced maturity in the form of a sudden marriage. However, looking upon all of these people, it must have been impossible for her to have arranged this in only one day. The small inkling of premeditation burrows beneath Jeongin’s festering displeasure. Truly, how much had changed in less than a day?

Reaching the tiled ballroom floor, he is immediately whisked away; arm after arm taking him along into conversation or dance. First his mother, then a hundred hopeful suitors. A kind smile engraved into his cheeks, so fake it tasted rotten on his tongue. He’d started to lose count of all the songs and dances and stale introductions; there was still no sign of Y/n’s presence.

Another song, another clammy, glammed-up hand filling his. Jeongin can’t stand the awkward small talk. This poor princess is truly quite cute and sweet, but she seems about as wholly disinterested as he is. They barely spare each other a glance as they spin around to the crescendoing music. And, as it comes to an end, they bow with strict formality. Once again, the woman is quickly replaced.

Knuckles brush softly, fingers sliding in between his. Warm hands undisturbed by the cool caress of gold and silver. The touch is familiar if only in the way Jeongin feels his heart burst as he turns to his new dance partner. Y/n’s smile is framed in a sweeping fluff of black downy feathers, tracing their sides in elegant steep lines, outlined in glittering gold. Air is knocked clean from his chest.

“You…You came, you’re here.” Every nerve in his brain jumped to push him into their arms, to press them tight to his chest. It was like fighting back a boulder, especially as their twinkling laughter split the air. 

A hand smoothed over his loose jaw, “I did, I am.”

The joy was overwhelming. He couldn’t keep himself from pulling them in closer and pressing a chaste kiss to their palm.

“Then, let us have one dance before I have to tell the whole kingdom that I love you.”

With that, Y/n’s smile grew even wider, feet scuffling faster along the floor to speed up their dance. “You truly wish to promise your love to me forever.”

“Well, I mean, yeah.” Jeongin felt his face flush in heat as the words came out.

They laugh at the red now blanketing his ears before continuing. “Y’know, you’ll need to say it to break the curse.”

“Oh, um-” He clears his throat, averting eye contact, “Y/n, I-”

“Don’t say my name.” Their voice takes on a sharp edge, smile stuttering. “Just repeat what I said.”

“Oh…okay. Well, um, I...” He fought himself to catch their eyes. Hands going clammy and squeezing theirs, “R-right now? We’re doing this now?”

Their eyebrow ticked, pleasant smile completely gone. “Yes, Jeongin? Why wouldn’t we?”

Why couldn’t he? Was his sanity finally catching back up to him?

It was like the words piled up in his throat. He had them ready, but something was stopping him. This heavy rock sat on his tongue, blocking up his mouth.

Five sharp nails dug into Jeongin’s hand. A tight gasp broke through the words. Where once was soft silver, something sinister glinted in Y/n’s eyes. 

“Say it. Do you not want to free me?”

“I-I do.”

“Then say it.”

“Y/n-” Their jaw twitched like a visage flickering over their face. Harsh dread settled in Jeongin’s stomach. “You’re not-”

Desperation set in, “Tell me you love me.” They clung to him, feet nearly trampling his as they kept up the dance.

He struggled to detach himself even when the music slowed. More and more eyes fell on the pair in the middle of the floor. “Let-let me-go.”

Small jewels clattered across the tiles, ripped off his suit by their grip. The stranger stumbled back. A circle cleared around them. Shallow breaths rattled the air. Shards of ice trickled inside the sleeves of Jeongin’s crisp suit. Those empty eyes are carved into Y/n’s face, boring down on him. This time Jeongin doesn’t cower.

“You! What did you do to Y/n?!”

“Stupid prince.” Jinyoung’s voice falls from foreign lips. His mask flickers once more before fading, revealing the old man. “You can’t do anything right, huh?”

Gasps ring out across the dance hall. Guests closest to the scene scatter, yet keep the prince in their sight. Jeongin moves before thinking. His hands reach to yank on the sorcerer's robe; they fall through the man’s skin instead. Shivers snap up his spine as the visage falls.

“Wh-what?”

Grating laughter echoes in the ceilings. “You really think I’d just waltz in here, disguised or not? I’m not an idiot. You, however-”

“Why did you come!?”

“Oh, this? Don’t worry. This was just plan A. Simple and easy. Though, it would seem time for plan B.” The ballroom devolves into a cacophony of squawking laughs and confused murmurs.

The Prince stays frozen, a spectacle to all eyes. He knows he must get back to that lake; that this is the duty he’s committed himself to. But, does he not have a duty here? One to his country, to take up a righteous ruling position? One to his people, to handle his power with grace and pointedness? One to his mother, to do all of this for her sake?

A hand turns him around. Face to face with his mother, her eyes wide and wild with confusion, he feels the turmoil bubbling up his throat.

“Jeongin, is this some kind of joke?”

“No, Mom, I-”

“I finally give you a chance to prove your loyalty to this kingdom and you pull this?” The anger is clear all over her, but there’s a tremble in her lip that breaks Jeongin’s heart. “I cannot believe you.”

He takes her hands. “Mom, I really don’t have the time to explain and I’m so sorry. But…there’s someone I’ve promised to help and if I don’t leave now, I may not be able to save them. I’m so sorry, Mom, I really am but-I-I need to do this. For them.”

He can hear her heart shatter as he pushes against the crowd towards the doors.

As Jeongin reaches the lake, an unsettling silence has fallen upon the forest. The pebbles skidding beneath him don’t make a sound. A whole ecosystem holding its breath, even as the wind whips furiously. The sky is strangely devoid of light, the wax-built moon gone. However, a soft white light pulsed against the foliage. Circling out like a shockwave from the center of the lakeside. Curled atop the grass, a great pearl of light, bursting like a star. With each strobe, heat rippled through the clearing; comfortable and calming.

An agonized scream shattered the feeling. A writhing shadow passed within the ball of light. Jeongin could immediately recognize the voice and he took off towards it. As he approached, the light appeared as less of a uniform sphere. It seemed to be pouring out of Y/n’s body.

“Y-Y/n!” Their skin was burning up, hot and fiery to the touch. They release another ear-splitting scream, trailing off into a cry. “Y/n-Y/n, please-oh god-“

An awful, broken sob tightens their chest as their hand wraps harder around his skin. It takes a life to heave their eyes open. Jeongin’s heart shutters. Their silver-speckled eyes have been fractured. Black smokey tendrils curl through the iris, draining its color.

“No! What-what is he doing to you?”

Y/n’s lips pry open, word flooding up into their throat. Another shriek rips out instead, cracking through their voice. This one too falls off into whimpers, though they restart their attempt to speak.

“J-jeongin,” Their voice is fuzzy, vocal cords fried, and words slurring. “You…”

A shaking hand reaches out for him, patting up his arm and chest in time. Fingers settle faintly on his cheek, still warm.

“You need to go.” A weak push barely turns his chin away. Steady fingers stop the action, squeezing Y/n’s hand.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“He’ll kill you, he’s-” Struggling against the fire dancing on their skin, they fight out their words. “He’s taking back his magic. I cannot be saved anymore.”

“No no no no,” Jeongin’s hand grapples with theirs panickedly. Keeping it pressed flush to his cheek, cradling their lolling head in his lap. “No, I-I promised, I'm gonna save you. Y/n, we’re-”

“Jeongin-”

“We’re going to grow together. You’ll be yourself again-“

“Jeongin-”

“I’ll learn everything about you and love all of it. Forever. All of my love, forever. I promise you.”

“Innie,” Like a hundred chimes, twinkling in unison. Dying off in the breeze. Their voice is fading, their fingers loosen on his cheek. But their eyes, filled with the adoration of the night sky, never leave his. “Thank you.”

Their body goes supernova. White blinds his eyes and the weight in his hands falls away.

Water lapped at the rocks. A soft, repetitive sound; an earthly lullaby whispered through the grasses. Clouds drift aimlessly past the sun. Low in the azure sky, birds whistle in disjoint harmony.  A single swan sits lonely atop crystal waters. 

The rhythmic thump of life, a heartbeat, plays beneath Jeongin’s fingers.

“We should leave soon.” They hum and lean further into his caress.

Jeongin stays transfixed. Tracing each jut and curve up their neck. The height of their cheeks and peek of their lips flushed with a sigh of warmth.

“Innie?”

Y/n’s eyes flutter open. Jeongin’s heart rockets through his chest. They lay stretched out over the lakeside, head perched in his sturdy lap. Midday sun blankets their skin with soothing comfort. They’ve stayed here, fading in and out of sleep for hours. Basking in the presence of each other away from the prying eyes of the castle. 

He hums absentmindedly in response, thumbing over their lip.

“I said,'' They sit up, twisting off his legs to look at him, chuckling at his small pout. “We should probably leave soon.” Fingers drift over Jeongin’s cheeks, wiping his frown with a fresh flush. “Your mother will be expecting us.”

He sighs and nods. It’d taken a lot to repair his mother’s trust over the past months: changing from his once reckless behavior and attitude had been a very important step. Although, Jeongin couldn’t resist the few opportunities to take advantage of Y/n’s new freedom. Every moment with them was a breath of fresh air Jeongin had never truly tasted before. Every touch felt like a live wire straight to his heart. He could say with a beautiful certainty, he’d never been more alive.

“I have another suit fitting, I guess I could try to make it in time.”

Y/n laughs, a sound he will never have enough of. “Your coronation only happens once. We can do this every day for the rest of our lives.”

The words kick up in the breeze, circling their chests. Beating in unison, an unspoken elation. The rest of their lives, together. Forever free at last.

© HYUUKAIS 2024

[siasthoughts]

« ADRENALINE »

CONCEPT; YOU WERE A NEW, YOUNG HIRE IN THE ORGANIZATION, AND RYU WAS ASSIGNED AS YOUR TRAINER.

TOPICS/CONTENTS; AGE GAP IN MIND . ORAL . GAGGING . P IN V . PRAISING . FEM!READER . MAYBE OOC? . DRUNK S3X . WITH PLOT 😔

LISTEN... i know i'm way more into dom!reader but these type of men got me bringing out my switch side 😍

WORD COUNT; 1.7K (forgot to add 😭)

"so you're the new girl here?" a raspy voice calls out as the huge doors open, you nod, feeling intimidated by his presence. "alright, i'm ryu, no need to tell me your name, i already know." you could read the room and tell that he definitely does not want to be here, yet he takes steps toward you, running a hand through his white-streaked hair and tying it back. he takes out the sword from the sheath, the scraping metal echoing throughout the large room.

"come at me." he taunts, standing unguarded, and unbothered as he holds his sword lazily toward you. you frown at his flippant attitude, you take out your two daggers out of their own cases. you smile, thinking you can easily outdo this old man. you run with your full speed, making you seem like you flashed out of sight. you jump behind him, getting ready to stab atleast his shoulders only—

his sword meets your daggers, clanging loudly as his eyes meets yours, maintaining his nonchalant gaze. "you're fast, but so predictable." you jump back, making him face you. "and... how do you suggest i should change that?" you ask, gripping onto your daggers tightly, "don't think about your next move," he walks toward you as he rolls his shoulders, "just let your instincts drive you."

"what do you even me—" and before you could even finish your sentence, he's behind you with his arm wrapped firmly around your neck along with his sword softly grazing it—making you feel it's cold metal and sending shivers through your body. you feel his breath against your ear, mixed with yours. you gulp, bringing the thin skin of your neck slightly closer to his blade for a mere moment. "don't be so tense, it's not like i'd kill you." he whispers, "even if i wanted to, you know i couldn't."

he lets go of you, and you let out a heavy breath, leaving you breathless for a good minute. "remember, don't think." he says, going back to his original starting point, taking up his hand, and using his index and middle finger to signal you to come back too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AFTER MULTIPLE FUTILE ATTEMPTS OF TRYING TO GET AS LITTLE AS A SCRATCH ON HIM, YOU SURRENDER.

"i... i give up!" you groan, completely breathless with your palms rested on your knees. he sighs, removing his hair tie, and letting his hair fall atop his shoulders. he walks toward one of the platforms near the stairs, and taking the quarter empty bottle, popping it open and bringing it to his mouth as his back leaned against the ledge. you wipe the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand as you walked toward him, hopping onto the ledge to sit and rest.

you peek at the bottle's label, not like you really had anything to know about alcohol, but you peeked at the label and just see the word 'rum,' "can i have some?" you ask, now looking at him. he doesn't answer until he finishes drinking, leaving half of the bottle, which is still an entire three gulps probably, "finish it if you want." he hands you the bottle without looking at you, you take it, and with only a few moments of hesitation, you drink it.

you feel it burn down your throat, though it was unexpectedly sweet, almost like caramel. you stop for a moment, staring at the label, making sure to remember it if you ever decide to buy alcohol. you don't notice, but he eyes you through the corner of his vision, observing your features and physicality. you down the remaining amount, since it was weirdly good. "thanks! i feel more... rejuvenated now." you place the bottle back down on the concrete with a clink.

you look down at him, observing him. wait, did he always look this good? his hair, rested nicely and complimented his face, or maybe it was just his aura and presence. you reach for his hair, playing with it, feeling its softness and how silky it is. he groans, keeping his arms crossed as your fingers got closer to his nape.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you don't know how you got to this point... with your hands trailing down ryu's wide back. wet sounds of your lips intertwining, along with your legs wrapped around his clothed body. you both stop the kiss, leaving only you breathless. he looks at you with the same unchanging expression, though you could feel a slight change in his demeanor. his skin was tinted with a slight pink, and desire burned in his eyes. "nobody's supposed to come back for at least another 30 minutes right?" you ask, trying to catch your breath.

he hums in response. you don't continue the conversation, since you hope that your actions will be enough to speak for themselves. your hands move to his chest, slithering down slowly to the hem of his pants and tugging at it lightly. he frowns, his eyes squinting for a brief moment along with a groan. you look down, seeing something strained against the once loose cloth, you try to keep your composure as you look back up at him. "seems like your body wants more too..."

"does it now?" he replies with an impatient tone. the alcohol ran through your veins, though ryu was almost completely sober—aside from his amazing alcohol tolerance, he barely drank from the bottle. "i want to see what type of person you are first in this type of situation..." you smiled, pushing him a bit to hop off the ledge. "do you want these lips first?" you ask, your index resting on top of your soft lips. his eyes follow, now looking at your lips then back at your eyes, "do whatever, as long as we get to the end of this..." he says somehow arrogantly, but you can see that he does want it, and more.

you let out a small, quick chuckle, getting on your knees as you untied the small cloth belt keeping his pants up, and slowly inching only the front down, making him groan and resting his onto hand on your head. you finally pull it down just enough to have his cock free, and his size casts a shadow upon your face, leaving you in awe. he looks down at you, seeing his dick almost outsizing the length of your face, he lets out a low laugh. you start to lick the body slowly, to the tip. from this specific angle, it looks even bigger.

you ignored it, as you slowly took him in, first the tip entered your mouth, earning you a husky moan from him. moving even further, he grips onto your hair and you hold onto his hips for stability as you finally take in his entire length. but you feel yourself gagging, "don't stop now." he muttered, you can tell he was aching for movement even though he didn't want to move to make you uncomfortable. you look up at him and continue.

you set a pace, starting off slow as you took it in out of your mouth, making him grit on his teeth. you hear whispers of profanity escape his lips as you started to pick up the speed, "that's it..." he chants, looking down at you as you take in his full size, and even though it hits the back of your throat and filling up your mouth, the pleasure definitely compensates for it. his moans and the lewd sounds of his progressively get louder, "oh god... i'm getting close. just- just like that..." he throws his head back, now using his hands to force your head onto his cock faster.

your throat struggles to keep up, making you gag audibly as he quickly gets faster. his hips tremble, "fuck, i'm cumming-!" he hisses, pulling out just at the right time to cum on your lips instead. you smile, looking up at him as you somehow succeeded to change his expression. his chest now rising and falling as he smiles down at you, "we're not done yet."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you now find yourself placed back on the ledge, with his body in between your legs, and his dick eagerly waiting at your entrance. his arms traps you in between them as he leans in, his mouth breathing against your ear, "are you ready?" he whispers as you feel his cock twitch against you, you hum in response. and he wastes no time, he positions himself against your pussy and slowly entering as a quiet groan leaves his lips and entering your ears like smooth butter.

you whine, feeling his cock filling you up. you never thought sex could feel this good—well you only ever had a few other experiences to compare it to—even then, this is heaven. he slowly starts to thrust in and out of you, and you secure yourself onto him by wrapping your legs back around him. his pace slowly starts to quicken, making you roll your head and eyes back, feeling it hit all your right spots. you feel a knot quickly form in your gut, and each thrust only made it tighter, and tighter.

"you're doing so well taking me." he praises, now holding your hips stable and your arms find comfort around his neck, as he pulls and pushes you toward him to match his rhythm—and this does not help your failing case. he's somehow hitting your insides even deeper now, making your throat and body emit the dirtiest noises. your voice echoes through the large room, along with the sloppy, wet noises of your skin slapping against eachother. "does it feel that good?" he smiles with a tinge of cockiness as he steadily keeps the pace.

he completely hugs you know, his arms engulfing as he moves his face onto the crook of your neck, "are you close?" he questions, quickly followed by your walls clenching around him, "i'll take that as a yes, so am i." he responds to himself as he leaves small, soft kisses on the tender skin of your neck. his grip on your body tightens as you hear his moans vibrating against your skin, "i'm so close... so close–" he mumbles when his speed peaks, you feel his fingers firmly pressing against your back.

you whimper, feeling your legs grow weaker, and feeling the knot inside you get closer to snapping. "fuck- i'm- i'm cumming-!" he takes one hand, taking himself out of you. you cry out, your legs trembling as you feel the knot finally snap along with his panting as you feel hot liquid spill onto your stomach.

and i, thank you. i finished this at 10 pm and speed read it and its not the best so... 😭

[heartshapedbubble]

Could I perhaps have something like those 2 long and well written Joseph and Luchino fic but with Soul Catcher? Thank you🙏

anon i am SO SORRY this took so long you might as well have my first born

also english isn't my first language so please have mercy on me i know i reuse the same words over and over 😔 reqs like these sadly clog my inbox even tho i like writing them so i'm gonna do something about them after i empty it!!

my very own prince charming, a soul catcher fanfic🧲☠️

cw for vomit mention in case you have emetophobia, reader's gender not specified although soul catcher uses a few spanish pet names (nouns) that are gendered because haha language rules, not proofread, warning for intense corniness, this is very bad i apologize, ALSO VERY LONG

-------------------------------------------------------

~

There are amazing forces of Attraction and Repulsion between souls; just like when fate guides some people together and causes others to part.

~

After a period of indecisive skimming through the bookshelf, you picked out a thick, hardcover book.

You'd consider yourself quite picky regarding books - just a flashy cover and a taunting description wouldn't do it for you. A beautiful, elegant maiden and a handsome, charming prince were just one-dimensional props in the story, and you found all of those "new " and "wonderful " fantasy worlds described and mapped out on the front page generic and bland. You always seeked out something new, something that would leave you thirsting and longing for each damned word pressed onto the yellowing paper, make your fingers trail over dozens of pages in mere minutes. Yet, considering your little town in the south was limited to just one small, dusty library, finding such books would be considered an extreme sport.

So for now, you had to be satisfied with the usual, popular literature that the townsfolk read.

But today was special - you weren't in the mood for something new, or something outstanding, in fact you'd even say you wanted to read something normal. Something you could nonchalantly mention to your friends during afternoon coffee, with a plot so malleable and simple it would be woven around your conversation like it was nothing. The misadventures of a rookie knight, or the sorrows of a young, noble lady, all interpreted differently and abstractly and able to be swiftly analyzed and twisted over a cup of overly sweet coffee. Although the pile of smooth, newly released paperbacks at the entrance intrigued you, a minute later you found yourself squished between two dusty, polished wooden shelves, inspecting the book you just picked out.

Well, you didn't know you'd stoop that low, but what caught your eye right now was a book of fairy tales and fables. It was an old release, presumably donated to the library considering the oil stains on the brown paper that wrapped itself around the thick leather cover. Although worn out by time and basically crumbling from the outside, on the inside the lettering was flawless and written in an old, thick cursive, and simply bringing your face closer to the text would bless you with the scent of old, yet well kept books - the fresh smell of walnuts and baldachin beds and white cotton dresses, and even lilac bushes in the spring. Although all of these associations were of a life unknown to you, for some reason they made you feel at home.

There was another reason for you picking out this particular book - a reason you'd rather carry with you to your grave out of pride, unable to bend your head down and admit it. When life got unbearable and overbearing and the only way you felt safe and well was under heavy linen bedsheets or in the shade of the old pear tree, you'd curl up and indulge in the exact same books you usually despise. A humbling experience, indeed, but at times where safety and love were most neccessary fantasies were the quickest, most low-key way of getting what you needed the most at the moment. Projecting your being onto the flat sheet of a protagonist, you'd visualise yourself instead of them, you being the one kissing the hero's fading scars or having your hair braided by the thin, nimble fingers of the king's son. The amount of scenarios was neverending, and, well, if you couldn't get your fix with all these readily available options, you felt like you're doomed.

The book was now set inside your trusty linen bag while you were walking home. Oddly, the usually loud and populated city market was silent and not a soul could be seen out on the street, not even a head popping out of the window or a hand reaching for the hanged clothes that hung on the ropes high above the rocky path. While you were crossing the town bridge, you decided to stop to take a deep breath and enjoy for a bit, now that you weren't being pushed onward by the citizens and the merchants that usually piled behind you.

It does take a while to learn savor things, doesn't it? It takes until adolescence until the dark chocolate on your tongue unveils its rich, deep and bitter flavor, until you learn how special that first sip of morning coffee is and how good of a feeling it is to simply have another hand wrapped around yours. Same goes for nature, you thought to yourself as you looked over the bridge, watching the river speed under the arch and the plants inside of it wave around like silk scarfs. Without the noise pollution, you were finally able to hear the satisfying noises of the water sloshing over the rocks, droplets hitting each other every second. Without a second thought, you laid beside the edge of the bridge, your bag lazily hanging off of your wrist, and let yourself get lulled to sleep by the melody of the current.

That is, until the straps of the bag slipped off of your wrist.

Fuck.

You immediately jumped to your feet in panic, looking around for your bag. Yet, it was too late. It was nowhere to be found - it was probably already driven away by the river, taken to god-knows-where.

Well, it's not like you weren't aware of the risk. But your heart still ached - that was not your book, after all. And what a beautiful, old edition it was as well! There was no way you'd be able to properly apologize to the librarian, unless....

"Oye, muñeca, ta libre."

You jumped at the sudden voice whispering at your ear. You were sure no one was around here except you... or maybe..?

Slowly turning around, your face was met with another, yet wider, lathered with paint and shaded by the hat above's enormous brim. As the face moved away from yours and the person straightened their back, you found yourself gazing up and down at - what seemed to be, at least - a tall, youngish man, couldn't be above 28. Dressed in gaudy purple, green and black, adorned with flowers and gilded accessories, he looked like a living puppet, his chest and shoulders wide and his waist slim, proportions of a wooden harlequin they sold during the holiday season in the toy shop. Hanging off of his wrist was your beloved linen bag, the forsaken book inside still in tact, not a single droplet of water blemishing the paper.

"Who...? How did you...?" You muttered nonsense, as your arms needily reached for the bag that he gently waved around. Props to the visuals, but you had your priorities.

"It's all reflexes, sugar. Was taking a nap underneath the bridge, you know, all that wandering around numbs out your legs, and your little sack here just happened to fall close enough to my hand for me to grab it in time. Be a little more careful next time, will you, doll?" The man-puppet replied nonchalantly as he tossed the bag into your arms.

"Thank you, I- wait, what?" You quickly snapped out of your daze. "Napping? Under the bridge? "

"Don't judge it before you try it", he whistled, crossing his arms behind his head, "The cobblestone ain't the comfiest, but it does wonders for your back."

You sneered at his carefree expression, as if lying under a bridge was the most normal thing to do. Who exactly was this fellow, and who did he think he was?

"And you expect to believe me all that?"

"Hm?" He jolted a bit, not expecting a question, maybe a compliment, but definetly not a skeptical remark.

"Napping under a bridge? Seriously? You catching my bag is impressive, yes, but there's no way it was that much of a skillful feat. You probably dozed by the river's shore and suddenly found a bag by your side like any other guy at this hour. Who are you even, some wannabe-show-off-superhero?"

To your suprise, he just smirked back at you, lowering his torso until his face was just inches away from yours. So close, you could feel his warm breath on your cheeks, and his raspy voice rumbled inside your ears.

"How about you take a wild guess."

Stumped by his question, you took a few steps back. Your eyes now digesting his form in his entirety, you rubbed your chin as you gazed up and down at the man, posing, obviously very into the careful stare you were dissecting him with.

"Enjoying the view, hm, azúcar? "

"Give me a break! I'm trying to focus." You mumbled, panicking a bit, sensing that your cheeks started to flame up. To be honest - even under all that fabric and thick paint, he was quite a looker. The black paint defined his jawline in all the right places, and man, that silly outfit of his was tailored pretty damn well, gripping his legs and his biceps enough to define them nicely.

Although visually he was as fancy as a rich man's birthday cake, nothing seemed to pop out from his outfit, as if every embroidered piece of textile and every golden stud was carefully planned out. However, upon better inspection, one of them seemed to take the cake - it was the small shiny skull on top of his hat, shaped like a squished pear, a few nails stabbed into it like birthday candles. The cherry on top of it all - metaphorically and literally.

"The skull on your hat... looks like a well-made prop to me. You're some kind of entertainer, huh?"

A playful smile appeared on the lad's lips, yet it wasn't a confirming one. "You're getting closer, but no, not exactly."

"Street musician?"

"I can be one if you desire, but it's not exactly my main job."

"Actor?"

"Only behind the scenes, dear. But I can see by the look in your eye that you're going to head in the right direction." This little guessing game seemed to amuse him to no end.

"With all that flashy wear, it seems fair to assume you might even be some kind of high-end magician, performing for nobles or aristocrats. Or some wannabe wizard."

He bit his lip, the smile widening with each guess. He seemed more excited about this than you were.

A flower painted around his left eye. A belt fastened around his waist, with a big golden buckle. Sheer black gloves covering his hands in their entirety, bones painted in gold on his knuckles and fingers.

A glowing ring - no, a disk - hanging from the side of his belt, rocking with the movement of his hips.

Wait. It couldn't be. The disk looked too...

"Hold on a second. You couldn't be..."

"Sí, muñeca? "

"Are you..."

Before you could even finish your sentence he grinned from ear to ear and inched even closer to you, his nose now touching yours, as if he just managed to read your mind.

"Bingo."

~

The legend of the Soul Catcher was told times and times again, twisted and folded like fresh taffy to suit every possible scenario in one's life. To children, it was told to scare them into going to bed in time. To teenagers, it was told to ward them off from the forest at the edge of the town. To young adults, it was told to motivate them into becoming independent and to work hard. To newlyweds, it became a prayer, to protect the newly formed family and to bring safety to their home. He was not the Reaper, but if a soul was left astray, detached from the body it resided in, everyone knew well that once the Soul Catcher gets his hands on it, that it won't be back ever again. He was both a devil and a saint, a villain and a vigilante - but one thing was sure, he was well respected. No one knew if it was out of fear or out of genuine admiration. And what was even weirder - not a single person was sure if he ever actually existed.

Not a single adult, at least.

The legend was not a new one, in fact, it has been told for a little less than a century. If you were to have a little extra patience and attention, you could hear the town's elders occassionally mumble about seeing him as a child in the forest, or him visiting them in a dream. But their interpretations varied from tale to tale - he went from a spirit, to a ghoul, to simply an omen, either good or bad. Since the townspeople couldn't agree on a single, concrete definition, the Soul Catcher remained a concept, embodied by what seemed to be multiple entities.

However, if you were to ask a child about the Soul Catcher, you'd get a much more vivid and universal description than anything an adult could tell you. All of them were along the lines of "magical jester", and what was weirder, almost all of the children confessed that the Soul Catcher played with them. And no, it wasn't just a single sighting, he played with multiple kids at once, even going as far to balancing three of them on his shoulders and telling them stories. During the hot, damp afternoon hours of the summer, huge groups of children snuck out of their homes just to play with him. When their mothers soaked their cramped hands and their fathers took their first break after the morning shift, their beloved kids were out on the dusty streets, carefully following every word seeping off of the Soul Catcher's silver tongue.

The only thing that bound the varying opinions and theories of both the young and the old was the trusty disk that always hung by his hip, rumored to be the tool he used to attract and harvest souls. And this same legendary disk was now hanging off of the belt of the man in front of you, green and purple mist enveloping it.

The myth himself, in the flesh, in front of you.

"You were quicker than I thought you'd be. Bravo, dollface." He smiled and patted your head. "If we ignore your initial hostility, you seem quite confident in the fact that i'm the real deal. Mind telling me why?"

"Well, you don't see someone parading around with THE exact disk that the Soul Catcher uses. Everyone agrees on the main description of its appearance, but to be completely fair, no one around here is skilled enough to make a replica that's convincing enough."

"I see. It's nice to see somebody with both the wits and the pretty face." He chuckled. Who would have known that he's such a flirt? Nontheless, to your shame your face lit up at his silly compliment. There was just something about him that made you weak in the knees.

"Alright. I believe I should prove you I'm the real thing now." He unhooked the disk from his belt, spun it around in his hand, and hopped a few steps away from you. He pointed the disk at your chest, positioning himself as if he's getting ready to react to a suprise attack. You didn't know what he was trying to do, but you felt as if you shouldn't make a sound or even object to it.

A tension-filled silence wrapped around you two for 20 seconds. After 10 more which seemed more like 10 minutes, you felt your body move. Move, although your legs were planted at the same spot they were before. Your head ached and pulsed, you felt dizzy as if your intestines were tying themselves into knots. To be sick without actual pain, to move without any movement, what was he doing to you? If this keeps up, you might just end up vomiting out your stomach along with its contents. It was like being carsick, except the sickness rumbled not only through your abdomen, but through each one of your limbs as well.

"Here, I stopped. It's all over. Sorry for this."

The headache seemed to halt, and your body was back to normal, yet your hands and legs still felt a bit sore. He was now above you, his hand stretched out to your sides in case you lost your balance.

"...What did you just do to me?" You yawned, trying to stand up straight again.

"What you just experienced was your soul being harvested from your, already inhabited, body. I usually refrain from doing this, but I felt like I should let anyone that witnesses me up close go through this. Y'know, I want to be honest with people. That although they've seen me in the flesh and talked to me, they're fully aware of what I can do so they can prevent themselves from getting harmed."

"Does this imply you sucked someone's soul out from their living body?"

"Maybe", he shamefully turned his head away, "but it was never on purpose. Usually it was them reaching for the disk, or trying to see it up close. It pains me, since in most cases it's nearly impossible to return the original soul to its old body."

An awkward silence ensued.

"Sorry for ruining the mood, I felt like I needed to warn you first."

"Oh no, seriously, it's alri-"

"May I walk you to your house, jewel?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me the first time." He extended his hand, waiting for your next move.

~

What a peculiar man, indeed. First he tries to suck out the life out of you to give you a heads-up, and then he offers to walk you home like a gentleman.

And you'd be lying if that offer didn't sound thrilling. So now, your hand was intertwined with his, you trying to slow down as much as possible to make the moment last.

"I realized I had forgot to ask for your name. My apologies. Not very gentlemanly of me, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't mind it. It's ____."

"___..." He looked up at the sky, rubbing his chin, as if he was trying to remember something, your name echoing on his lips multiple times.

"Pretty name, but it doesn't ring a bell. You're not among the horde of youth that I visit, are you?"

"Nope. I'd say i'm more of a loner most of the time. I like socializing and all, but nothing's like a good book that you can read in one sitting."

"I figured. No way in hell I'd forget such a cute face like yours, even if I saw it for a split second." He smiled and pinched your nose. If his plan was to drive you insane, he was incredibly effective.

"How come people have such different reports about you? Can you shapeshift?" Trying to lead a conversation with him felt like navigating through a mine field - there were no known limits, no known good or bad questions, or any shared topics you two could talk about. But you'd lie if you said it didn't excite you - waiting for his response, never being able to predict the next word that will come out of his mouth.

He sighed. "If you wore the same pair of pants every day, wouldn't you get tired of it?"

"I suppose..?"

"Well, yeah. It's that. Mix it with hallucinations the brain dials up once it's met with something outside the world it knows, and here's your answer. I'm no sprite or shapeshifter, just a regular guy who made a regrettable deal years ago. I might have the powers of the dead on my side, but at what cost?"

You shrugged. As much as you wanted to quiz him and get him to talk about himself, right now biting your tongue and playing it cool seemed like the best idea. Getting deeply invested in his life might not lead to good places.

"So... you're one of those so-called bookworms, hm? You've been carrying a book inside that bag of yours the entire time, too." You could feel his hand slip from yours, trailing across your arm to your shoulder, then to the other, gripping it softly. His touch felt warm on your skin, very human and real despite what he did for a living.

"...Yeah. In fact, I was just on my way from the library back at the bridge where I met you. I just borrowed it." You smiled shyly, holding the bag tightly in your arms. Knowing his curiosity and boldness, a feeling of panic unfolded in your chest, dreading what he might say next.

"Mind me taking a peek at what you're reading?"

Aaand this was it. The moment you prayed will not happen, but his chin was already resting on your shoulder, trying to get a peek at the contents of the bag.

"H-hey, hey! Back off! That book's my business, after all!" You giggled, holding it tighter and tighter, trying to laugh off your growing anxiety. If there's one person that you wouldn't like knowing about your little self-indulgent hobby, then it was Soul Catcher. But your tightest grip was easily undone by his loosest, and now your book was in his left hand, clumsily open, and the digits of his right were buried in the strands of your hair, holding your head away with careful but great strength. Even with your annoyed and panicked groans and your hands clawing at him, he simply couldn't miss the opportunity to steal a look at a few titles.

"Calm down there, you're acting as if it was a pipe bomb that you were carrying!" He chuckled, trying to stay composed as his body lost balance under your pushes and pulls. Yet your delight was short-lived, as only a second was needed for him to spread the pages open with his thumb and smugly read some of the titles out loud.

"Cinderella, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty... seems like someone's a sucker for Prince Charming, hm?" He snickered, but gave in to your pleas and dropped the book right into your sack.

"Would it hurt your pride to not dig through others' stuff?" You hissed, patting the bag in relief. "A-and is there something so wrong with indulging in childhood comfort anyway?"

"Oh, not only would it hurt it, it would kill it. Besides, something tells me that this little guilty pleasure of yours goes beyond just childhood comfort", he whistled in his usual self-satisfied tone, yanking at his suspenders, "But hey, who am I to say?"

"Oh, does it?" You gave him a taste of his own medicine, grimacing right at his face, making sure each word rumbled through his skull. "Well, what if I told you that such absurd assumptions are indeed incredibly untasteful, especially when left unelaborated? Just imagine how much of a hit that could be to your fragile ego..."

"¡Dios mío! You couldn't possibly...!" He dramatically threw his head back. At least something was true - he really was an actor behind the scenes. "Oh lord, it truly seems like the only way to make it up for you, your majesty, is to explain myself beneath your ice-cold gaze, like an accused pauper chained and laid before the king!"

Both of you laughed away at your ridiculous actions.

He cleared his throat, after a good minute of dying from laughter. "O-okay, where were we? Ah, yes, your dirty little secret." With his hands crossed behind his back and his gaze innocently directed at the sky, it seemed like this was a touchy subject for him, too. "Well, from all my previous experiences with people, I noticed that a lot of them like to fantasize about, well, a world where everything is just better - usually some kind of unrealistic fairytale utopia. It helps them feel better about their problems, especially during adolescence." His eyes briefly shifted to yours, watching them as if he's waiting for you to point out a fuck-up nested in his wording.

"Alright, continue...?"

"And, uhm, although fairy tales are meant for kids and all and are read by them, these same adolescents use them as a vessel for said utopias, or simply, a medium."

His lips were pressed into a firm line, waiting for your feedback.

"Bravo, jester", you treated him with a teasing smile, ruffling the stray locks of hair peeking out from his hat, "You got yourself out this time."

"Well then, call me Houdini." He smiled back, scratching the back of his neck. "Jeez, even though that fantasy thing should have gotten into my skull for the most part, I still can't fathom what's so special about the Prince Charming trope.. It's so annoying! Are y'all really drooling over the same guy in different fonts?"

"To be fair, it leaves a lot to the imagination. You can interpret him however you like, twist his personality to your liking."

"But that's exactly why it's horribly overused! Dressing every fictional man in a suit of already desired personalities is... boring! No variety, no depth - nothing! Do they really not find real people with actual lives, emotions, thoughts and opinions more appealing?"

It was a bit funny, him getting worked up over this, as if he was deeply insecure about it. You decided to fuel the fire a bit.

"Well, what does your average Prince Charming have that, let's say, I lack?"

"A great personality?"

"Oh, come on. Now you're just being mean." He sighed, traces of laughter in his sigh. "Damn you, muñeca." You chuckled.

"Big muscles?"

"These babies don't look defined to you?" He pouted jokingly, flexing his arm. Shit. Your face warmed up for a bit. For a second, a satisfied grin appeared on his face, liking the reaction he coaxed out of you through your composed armour.

"Strength and brave- AH!" You didn't even get to finish your sentence, and a moment barely passed, but his left arm was already wrapped around your calves, his right under your arm and around your back, his body leaned into yours and suddenly - you were hanging off his shoulder stomach-down, like a potato sack. "Oh my god yo- put me down!"

He whistled, holding you down to supress your squirming. "Strong enough for you, doll?"

"Not fair..." You groaned, lifelessly plopping onto him.

"You didn't answer my question~"

"Yes. Strong enough." It was quite enjoyable up on his shoulder, actually. After the initial panic passed it became nice, the rhythmic bouncing of his walk lulling you to sleep. You could get used to this.

"Now that's music to my ears." He showed no sign of letting go any time soon, perhaps he liked the smell of your perfume on your neck, and your weight resting on top of him, like a thick winter blanket.

"Since you've already decided to pick me up, would you be kind enough to carry me to my house?" You mumbled, your eyelids already feeling heavy. "That house, over there." Pointing at the tall, cobblestone house, you yawned.

"Entiendo, sirenita."

~

"How did you- actually, you know what? Nothing can suprise me anymore. You climbed up my balcony, didn't you?"

The sun was setting, and Soul Catcher was leaning against the railing of your balcony, your bag thrown around his frame.

"Actually I slid off the roof, but you're not that far off, beautiful." Every time your name was replaced - or you were simply called by - a soft pet name coming from his mouth, you felt as if your stomach would explode. Something about the way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, whispering endearments to you like you're the only person remaining in the world along with him. And whenever he read and peered through your façade as your face turned red and your breathing got deeper, he took a step further, engaging in the sensual, mental tango forming around you two. "I forgot to return your bag. Sorry."

"It's alright. I appreciate that you went out of your way for me." Gosh, the way you tortured him! Whenever he was smooth and flirtly and you punched him in the face with your kind, unfiltered smile instead of flirting back, it was like his heart was momentarily shattered into pieces and then bound again. The irresistable two-step of games and suave words was driving him insane and momentarily, in his mind it was your face, and your body, and your voice that called for him and your coldness clashing with his warmth, and it was making him dizzy. Behind his eyes, his brain was melting, and his heart was no different. To fall so quickly for a stranger - well, it's no secret that he's been depraved of actual love and affection beyond one night stands and empty promises to dozens of lovers from different times - was nothing new to him, but this attachment was not the same, it was permanent, stable, and wasn't going away any time soon.

"So, ___..." You turned quickly. When it was just your name and not something snarky on his lips, it seemed more important. "...You got any plans for the evening?"

"Oh- not really. Do you, though?"

"Not a plan, but rather an idea, a proposition, even." His voice was breathier as if he was nervous, coughing up the words from his chest. "If you want to, we could, y'know, watch the sunset together. I'm quite fond of sunsets myself, so I was wondering..."

"So you're proposing a date?" A date. As if he flinched when he heard the word.

"Well, yeah, a date, if you want to call it that." He said as he bit his lip. "Are you up?"

"Why not?" You whispered, creeping slowly towards him. "That sounds like a nice way to spend the evening."

"I'm glad." he smiled. In that little moment all of his confidence returned, and now his voice was clear again and he was back on his feet, jumping on top of the railing like the most skilled of acrobats and making his way to the roof. "You're coming, no?"

"And how exactly do you want me to come?"

"Grab my hand. Come on." His hand hanged from above, pushed as far as possible to reach you. "I'll pull you up."

You gulped. Heights remained a minor fear of yours ever since childhood, and having to face said fear head-first out of nowhere wasn't very appealing. "But what if I fall?"

"Believe me, muñeca, you won't."

"How can you be so sure!?"

He took a deep breath, trying to speak as gently as possible to calm you down.

"Trust me, ___. It's my hand around yours, no one elses, and my strength that's going to pull you up. I'm here for you. Please."

You didn't know when, you didn't know how, but the height suddenly stopped being a problem and, in a flashing moment, you were in his arms, being pulled to the middle of the roof.

~

"The clouds are such a beautiful color today. Light pink, as if they're crowning the sun before the moon rises."

Your back facing him, his chin on your shoulder, his breath on the nape of your neck.

"It's even more beautiful right before it goes down. They turn blood red, melting with the sky."

His arms wrapped around you, your hand around his wrist, your legs thrown over his.

"Do you have to go soon?" You whispered with a heavy heart.

"I should go." He suddenly stopped. "But I don't want to."

"Please. Stay for another moment."

He pulled you closer and closer to him, now his mouth right by your ear.

"Of course. A moment."

And it was more than a moment.

And more than an hour.

And only the crescent moon was the witness, and what it saw was sealed for eternity once the sun rose on the horizon again.

[crow-aeris]

More of my little phoenix!tim au, much thanks to @king-chimaera for the ideas and help wrangling the plot line :3

(I really need a name for this thing, and ideas would be much appreciated 😔)

Part 1 can be found here

=====

When Tim wakes up, he’s somewhere dark. Dim… Empty…

An odd feeling tugs at the back of his brain but he doesn’t know why. When he tries to move, he can hear something rusting and clinking. He frowns and tries to see where the sound was coming from, but it seemed to only come when he moves?

Tim huffs in irritation, pulling his wings coser to himself to try and see what was happening. The light from his feathers was faint, but it was good enough. There was something that attached his wrists, and following the rope, Tim’s eyes were drawn to the wall. He was on a bed of some sort, but it was small, soft, and piled on with blankets?

This wasn’t- this wasn’t his bed! and these- these weren’t his clothes either. In fact, this wasn’t his room, his house, his- his anything! Was- did- did he get kidnapped?!

A panicked sound escapes his throat as Tim pulls at the rope, his breathing quickening as blood rushes to his ears.

God, he knew this was going to happen! Mom had even reminded him before she and dad left for Ecuador! He was- why did he have to be so STUPID?

Plus, why would his kidnappers dress him in something so light, put him on a bed, and chain him down? They- they must want to keep a pretty little birdy they found as a pet, or- or- or even- or even worse, they want to- god, what if that wanted to-

Tim gags, feeling bile burn at the back of his throat as he yanked harder on the rope.

He was hyperventilating- no, he needed to stop. He needs to slow. Down!

But his thoughts jump to the worst-possible scenarios, of hands touching and touching and touching-

He’s heard the stories from the working girl near where Robin- oh god, Jason. If Tim’s here, that means he wasn’t able to bring Robin back, and he failed- of how absolutely vile some men were. Tim- Tim doesn’t want to go through that. He does not. Tim was young, be he wasn’t naive.

He needs to leave. Now. Or else he’ll never get to go home… He’s heard the statistics, and he knows that the instant his kidnappers grow bored of him, then they’ll try and kill him but realize that he can’t die, and Tim knows three people off the top of his head who would love to live forever, and that’s- that’s not a life he wants.

Now, he has to think.

He sucks in a deep breath, forcing himself to relax and properly assess the situation.

Okay. He was in a dark room, roughly 8 by 9 feet with a ceiling 7 feet tall. The door was on the wall opposite of the bed, which was centered and pushed flush against the wall. The bed itself was almost bowl-like? Which was extremely weird, but it was almost the size of a queen size bed. The ceiling had one of those boob lights he forgets the name of, meaning wherever his kidnappers were keeping him had electricity.

His clothes were loose, looking middle-eastern of origin. His shirt had two slits in the back that allowed for his wings to stick through. There was some wiggle room, so that may come in handy… Tim lifts his wings and flares them open to try and get more light in the room. To his right was what seemed like a window covered with curtains. The curtains didn’t look particularly thick, wich meant that the darkness was likely because it was nighttime.

In the dark, Tim’s wings would put him at an extreme disadvantage, what with the glowing and whatnot, but maybe…

He gnawed thoughtfully on his lip, narrowing his eyes in concentration as he tried to pull his wings into his shirt. It might be thin, but it would greatly help decrease the light he’s giving off.

Tim takes a deep breath and feels around his wrists. His hands were individually bound by rope, which still allowed him a great range of movement. He pushes a finger against the base of the knot, working his way upward to feel out roughly how the thing was tied. Light would be great right now, but Tim couldn’t be bothered to maneuver his wings back out. Instead, he leans forward, using his teeth to hold the rope in place while his other hand slowly but surely loosens the rope until he’s able to free his left hand. His right hand was significantly harder on account of his left being his nondominant hand, but Tim manages.

He suffles out of the strangely shaped bed, slowly and deliberately making his way toward the door. There was a singular, smooth, round knob that lacked a distinctive key hole. The rest of the door was smooth too, not a single latch or locking mechanism in sight. That means, either the locks were on the outside- trapping him in like a prisoner, or worse, a pet- or whoever was keeping him didn’t bother to place him in a locked room at all, whoch would be stupid.

Turns out, his kidnapper was not stupid. Tim had tried to twist the knob open quietly, but it refused to budge.

Damnit.

Okay, what else can he try? Robin has gotten out of plenty situations before- so surely Tim can too! (he ignores that Robin ad Batman, while he was painfully, painfully, alone.)

Okay, so what else could he try?

Well, he couldn’t hear any sound from the otherside of the door, which probably meant that there were no guards posted. There was a small gap between the door and the wall, but if only he had a card or something on hand, then that would be amazing.

He trails around the perimeter of the room before reaching the windows. Pushing aside the curtains, he carefully examines the glass. Outside was dark, but he can still see shapes moving below. If he was to smash the glass and escape, then he’d be spotted and that would be no good. So, without anything new, Tim returns to the door.

Now, as he moves his hand to the other side of the door, he feels… hinges.

Gears begin to twist in his head as time experimentally knocks on the door… No response.

Okay, now he can set to work. Hinges mean hinge pins, and hinge pins can be removed. This was going to be painful, but Tim won’t die from it.

So, he grits his teeth, and wedges his thumb nail under the first hinge pin.

It hurts. God, it hurt so fucking much. Warm blood trips down his hand as his nail was being torn away from the nailbed, but the constant warm tingling continued to heal all damage done.

He flinches as the first hinge pin pops out eventually, sucking in deep, laboured breaths as sweat beaded his forehead. Regardless, Tim licked his lips anxiously and decides to use his other hand for the remaining hinge.

The last pin was removed after almost thirty seconds of slow, and painful, pushing. Tim wheezes as the last pin popped out, blinking away the tears in his eyes and swallowing back the sob that built in his throat. It hurts, even with the healing, but he needed to press forward.

He needs to find Jason.

Tim gradually wiggles the door bit by bit until he slips it out of the doorframe, his arms protesting and aching at the strain. Despite this, he can’t help the rush of euphoria at the promise of freedom!

The phoenix snares his bottom lip in between his teeth. Finally- FINALLY!

He can taste freedom and hope dance across his tongue, soaring through his chest as hs gently and soundlessly sets the door down on the ground. Tim sucks in a breath, giddy with glee, and as he ducks out of the open doorframe-

He’s bathed in light.

“GAH!” he yelps, jerking back at the sudden change in light, his feet catching on something before sending him down-down-down.

The wind was knocked from his chest, the hope rising in his chest was swiftly quashed as he blinked open tear-filled eyes, Above him loomed a man with searingly green irises and an intrigued and amused expression. Behind him stood rows upon rows of dark-clad people, and Tim felt dread pool in his gut.

“Well done, Timothy,” the man says slowly, the words creeping like insect legs inching along his back, “You are truly something to behold.”

And as he was hoisted to his feet, Tim couldn’t help but feel as if his fate was being sealed.

…How was he going to find Jason now?

[robotlcangel]

ES SPOILERS

I can’t say I liked it, at all, I do really like aftermath and spitfire (she needs to be at least slightly different from twitch) I also liked some of the jokes, it really is disappointing that Robby and Mo are are the main focus when they ain’t really all that interesting, it feels really desperate to make you like Robby and Mo and think that they’re cool, it also felt like the autobots (and their parents) were kinda shoving the Terrans into being super soldiers instead of letting them be kids, nightshade and several other characters are given like 2 minutes of screen time which is really disappointing all of the siblings but nightshade, was given at lest a episode focusing on them except for nightshade, and the world feels really real empty like where are the rest of the mechs, especially when only one new legacy character was introduced and it was cosmos and HE LITERALLY DID NOTHING his only purpose was to be a weird Al cameo and nothing else, Starscream felt soooo flat in season two and I’m fine with he being evil I actually was excited I really wanted to see Megatron getting jumped by both autobots and decepticons, but no he was just generically evil, the said “letting us free from our oppressors” but then he committed child murder and didn’t give one fuck about his deception’s after he got power, he was sooooo boring and generic, at this rate I don’t think we will ever see a Starscream redemption or him just being happy in general

I think the con’s could and should be evil but not this flavor of evil like team skull from Pokémon type evil like their main goal is just to kill megatron and cause problems for the autobots, and I think it would be super interesting if a good amount of autobots joined them, and at lest make one of the Terrans a con sympathizer (best option is nightshade imo) and have them get ostracized from their family and even have said Terran decide to leave their family because they are being ostracized, and join up with the cons 🗣️🗣️ bonus points if Alex and Dottie are the most disapproving, I feel like the maltos should at least some internal conflict but them always being 100% cool with most things makes them feel boring, and obviously they can still love each other but something more interesting needs to be going with the maltos then self doubt and starscream, ik i already said this but omg Robby and Mo need to be secondary characters and not the super main focus, and get rid of those goofy power rangers suits.

The Terrans also had sooo much Plot armor it’s insane like no way can hashtags can beat SHOCKWAVE it’s ridiculous it’s blasphemy, it’s outrageous,

Over all it was really stupendously disappointing I was so damn excited I didn’t sleep, and all for nothing 😔😔😔

(Sorry if this post is a little incoherent I’m super fucking sick rn I’ll definitely post more of my thoughts later🗣️🗣️🗣️)

I officially count this season as non canon.

I might even do a rewrite because I have so many ideas it’s making me tweak

[rosemariad]

Supernatural season 14

Oh boy!

So Alt-Michael has taken over Dean’s body and absconded to parts unknown - what an unprecedented plot twist who could’ve possibly seen this coming, certainly not Dean, the one guy who doesn’t trust angels and has a history of being short-sighted & making shitty deals.

Since this is season 14, and there’s only 1 more season after this, I presume Dean will never grow out of these bad qualities 🤦🏾‍♀️, so…moving on.

Check you out Sam, leading your new band of hunters, like some sort of Hunters Incorporated©️. I’m glad Sam gets to spend more time with his mom, but he won’t let her take care of him 😔😭

Was it me or did that Michael & Anael scene feel like Jensen x Danneel role play 🤣 - at least when he caressed her face. Like really bro? I don’t think the scene would’ve played out that way if the actors weren’t actual husband and wife 🤣

Shoutout to Supernatural for keeping Mark Pellegrino employed lol 😂😂 cuz I don’t see Why the fuck he’s still around if the devil is supposedly dead - wasn’t Mark P. also doing 13 reasons why around this time?? Anywho, Nick, luci’s longtime vessel, isn’t dead???? What does Nick have that jimmy novak didn’t (or literally any other angel vessel for that matter) — plot convenience? That must be it 🤣🤣🤣

Cas honey, why are you letting these demons beat you up? Cuz Dean is gone on your watch? cuz im sorry there’s no way im believing Cas was weaker than all them demons. That’s also plot convenience IDGAF!

After yet another demon-hunter showdown, Mary and Bobby are spotted sharing a beer & flirting…I wish John were around to see this AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Oh Jack, poor guy feels worthless for having no power. He should’ve been like ‘Castiel what’s it like being worthless?’ since that was Castiel’s arc for a minute too, which again fuck Supernatural for. Cas had like 1 badass moment last season when he fried Donatello’s brains but that’s it. Meanwhile Nick totally called Cas out, bringing up Jimmy again and driving that guilt straight into Castiel.

Alt-Michael is recruiting?? Brief Dean cameo in 14x02, you give him like 2 lines, wow 😒. Even Sam got more screen time in 5x22 swan song…but Dean suddenly comes back at the end of the episode???? Nah, bullshit!

Also lol karma for Dean in 14x02 when Jack is like, ‘Dean doesn’t matter’, Michael has to be stopped. Ahahahahahahaha. He was the so called pragmatist when it came to Jack, now it’s Jack’s turn. Castiel’s face when jack said it tho…

Dean got stabbed by AU Kaia? What?? Oh look yet another instance of Dean running away from his problems and pain and being a dick to Kaia (though she's technically a different person) again! Good for you tho AU Kaia for giving Dean a taste of his own medicine and telling him off.

Bobby leave Sam alone, I’m here for his captain my captain era. The lovable giant is doing his best!

So some necromancer gets away from Jack & Dean but we’re not gonna see her again, right??? There’s just a little over 30 episodes left in the show at this point. They probably didn’t know that at the time though.

Shoutout to the devil for basically condemning his child to die from a lack of grace :/ while Cas was able to survive (cuz plot convenience most likely) Jack as a nephilim was unable to do so. Gabe’s spare angel grace couldn’t help (I wonder if he were still alive in canon, if it would’ve made a difference. Oh well).

So this is where Cas made the deal with the empty (yes I know about it, how doesn’t everyone that shit went viral the very night it originally aired amidst the infamous nail-biting 2020 election week), tumblr is still serving the memes to this day.

Cas doesn’t want the Winchesters to know cuz Dean 😭 idc, if I was Jack I would NOT keep that secret. Dean would know IMMEDIATELY.

I think more angels died, but heaven hasn’t fallen yet…right? They keep coming back to that. Hm…

Nick’s arc is…bleh. Pretty sure in his desperation he just brought Luci back from the empty…welp. I guess when you’re an archangel who was predestined by God to fight in a fateful epic battle against your big bro, you just get certain perks in the afterlife 😒

Sam doesn’t want Alt-Charlie to go when its like bro! She. Is. Not. Charlie!!! For fuck sake guys SMH, let her live her fucking life! God forbid she want to run away to fucking safety and not die bloody like her counterpart 🤬

Bobby and Mary run off to a cabin for weeks on end 😏😂 to recuperate, sure Mary 🤣

Garth is back! Working as a spy for the Winchesters, oh dear Lord no. I know he makes it to season 15 but maaaan I don't like this….

The nerve of Dean to challenge Alt-Kaia to either hand over the weapon or kill her. What if she just killed him? Also, can't they just replicate the weapon for their own uses? All they would need to do is ensure they're using the same materials Kaia did when she forged the weapon in her own world.

How many hits to the head is Sam supposed to fuckin' take? I feel like it's happened more in this season alone than the entire show so far? He should probably be dead at this point 🤣

Jack got taken, oh no! why didn't Michael kill him? To take him as a ward? Seriously? Whatever.

And it turns out the past episode was a long con to get Dean right where Alt-Michael wanted him. I know there was a catch to him letting Dean go in 14x02.

So Alt-Michael chose to trap Dean in…contentment? With Pamela Barnes? And they weren't even a couple, just friends. She called him out on something.

Why not have him be with a real girlfriend of his, like Lisa or even Cassie? I’m supposed to believe Dean's dream is an unsuccessful bar living out his days with a platonic lady friend??? Really??? Bullshit!

John returns for the final time to go back to 2003? Okay. His hair is cut and grayish. Lol so I’m gonna see that as John gained some weight (from food/drink or muscle training idc) and dyes his hair black but the root are grey and come out every so often 🤣 but yay JDM I wish you had been in more episodes! Oh well.

So no one’s gonna talk about:

a) Adam’s existence

b) Bobby X Mary or how Bobby essentially replaced john as the father/husband by getting involved with Mary AND being a surrogate father to Sam & Dean (with a clear preference to Dean but whatever)

I’d care more about Sam & John’s convo if we had more time with them together on screen. But it was nice to see them squash their beef.

Dean & John’s convo was faaaar too brief. But insightful to their relationship. John wanted dean to have a family, echoing his wishes for his eldest in season 1 in his convo w/ Sam.

But Dean was like I have a family 🥺 my emotions!

Back to the Michael bullshit – a fight with a gorgon fucked up his containment so he literally broke out of Dean's body and killed all the hunters who were conveniently at the bunker when they brought an unconscious Dean back there. Even poor unfortunate Maggie. For a second I thought Mary would be there since Maggie mentioned she was on her way back but no, he ended up possessing Rowena.

Then they bring the old angel torture device of disabling our heroes' ability to breathe, like in the season 5 premiere, making them blind (that's new) and making them hurt.

Jack gets his chance to take Michael down, and takes his grace??????

Oh Sam bby, it's not your fault. Those people were doomed no matter what. TBH I'm surprised they lasted this long. But cuz he's a Winchester and he was raised by Dean & they've rubbed off each other too much at this point (nobromo), he decides to focus on yet another case even when Dean himself isn't willing since big bro has pointed out they have done 3 cases back to back. They're not the young men they used to be lol.

Cas goes with Sam to a milkshake town and given his legendary levels of awkwardness he's immediately seen and called out for his inherent queerness by the townsfolk (in all senses of the word).

Aw Sam wants to stay, ofc he does. This town is simple and peaceful. He could use some of that. Too bad this place is making people's heads explode.

This is why we can't have nice things.

Ah subtle there Supernatural, making Jack, a Nephilim who's the offspring of the devil himself choose between angel and devil food cake 🤣 Dean why would you put him in that position?

Cas why you gotta be snitching on Sam to your boy bestie like that 🤣 – typical boyfriend tomfoolery

Oftentimes since Jack started in this show, he's felt like an intern and 14x16 is one of those times. They don't wanna bring jack along so they think to leave him alone doing chores. Good Lord.

Oh honey Sam you didn't have to tell the sheriff you're not FBI, just stick to the monster stuff. He knows what's up.

And Jack sweetie pie you don't need to impress those kids. He should be hanging out with kids his own age. Just Jack with a bunch of babies 🤣. So cute! My headcanon is that he can actually talk to them. At least then it wouldn't have ended with a stabbing. Thankfully he cleaned up his mess, even though the local kids are terrified of him. It’s a shame he doesn’t have friends. If only he was allowed to have Claire in his life.

They finally resolved the Nick storyline (I hope) by killing him off via Jack but Mary is not happy. She’s concerned. She’s been concerned about him the whole frickin episode since he sassed her as they tried setting up a game night with Dean.

It’s like these people keep forgetting what Jack is capable of.

He didn’t have to relish the kill though. On the other hand, it felt like Mary’s concern was a bit much — if it were me I would’ve kept my mouth shut as to not upset a powerful fledging being into killing me by accident.

So Mary dies…again.

This is also why we can’t have nice things. I know Dean’s never gonna let this shit go. Sure Cas has fucked up a bunch, but killing a direct blood relative of Dean’s…nope. That’s unforgivable. I know they’re not gonna let Dean kill off a kid but I know he’s NEVER ever gonna forget Jack’s role in Mary’s (second) demise.

Why couldn’t you leave the boy alone Mary?!?!?!!?!

The boys show up, did they not circle back to pick up their mother? Seriously? Goodness Lord. So depressing watching the brothers just assuming their mommy’s coming back 😭

Cas (cuz of course this shit went tits up while Daddy was away) calls Dean to get caught up on what happened the last episode and is concerned that the Winchesters left their mom alone with Jack. Then why did you leave him Cas? You could’ve taken him with you. Like it would’ve been better if one of the brothers was alone with Jack? Badasses they may be, but they would’ve ended up just like Mary let’s be honest. The only difference would’ve been whichever brother got got would’ve come back. Mary will not be getting that special treatment…

Jack is tripping out since he murdered his foster G-maw - ends up flying all over the world (so his soul is definitely gone? But if it were gone, would he even care about killing Mary? everyone’s trying to track him down IDK why he doesn’t just destroy the phone he has. We get flashes of Mary & Jack’s time together and technically I believe she spent the most time with him (at least in season 13)

They’re still giving Mark P work on this show making him the manifestation of Jack’s subconscious cuz the kill is driving Jack insane 😭🥺 He’s reacting so much like a little boy who knows he fucked up it that makes this so much sadder 😭 Jack’s being driven mad with grief.

Oh fuck they’re going to where she died. Oh fuck.

WTF is wrong with these people! He’s a fucking boy! A super power nuke of a boy, but still a fucking boy! Like the Winchesters never made a mistake! What about the nurse who got killed in 4x22 by Sam? All the people Dean slaughtered under the MoC, as a demon! That’s just off the top of my head! No but cuz they’re the fucking protagonists 😡🤬

Samuel Winchester you know manipulating this child Is 5 different kinds of fucked up!

Jack why did you call it an accident! Did you not want to use the words murder? Destroyed? Obliterated?

Dean you piece of shit, why are you lying to this boy!!!!!! You know Jack’s desperate to make peace with you, and you lead him to a grave he’s never supposed to escape?! Poor thing Jack was sooo scared!

Sam, the regret is gonna eat you alive! Sam, for fucks sake, SPEAK THE FUCK UP! You clearly got shit you wanna say, fucking say it!

Dean you’re surprised Jack’s going along with it?! Of course he’s gonna go along with it, he wants to please you, you shady, manipulative BASTARD!

That’s right Castiel stand up for Jack since nobody else is willing to!

Oh boy, the celestial boy is freaking out. Claustrophobia was kicking in, this shit ain’t gonna end well. It’s a dark day when a psychological manifestation of Satan is making sense more than everyone else.

I’m not surprised Jack got out though. That box was made for an archangel and he isn’t that. He’s a nephilim, technically a different entity, right? now, the Winchesters have a pissed off mega-powerful creature on their hands. Great job team 🤣

that’s right Jack, give them a piece of your fucking mind! Fuck ‘em up queen.

Oh shit! I’ve watched this part a dozen times on YouTube, the part where jack makes the whole world tell the truth no matter what! Donald trump is canonically Crowley’s bitch! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

All hail the stapler queen! Iconic!

And God reveals Himself, what grand timing! He says He came for Cas’s prayer (but Cas prayed to Him in season 6 too, no?) but then He states the real reason for His arrival — Jack.

Meanwhile Jack went to see his real G-maw, not a good plan Jackie boy. She’s put 2+2 together that her daughter Kelly is NOT ok and now Jack has to confess the truth. (Where’s the dad? Was the actor unavailable or dead at this point?)

Sam was outed to love Celine Dion (I love her too Sammy it’s ok, her songs are AMAZING! My favorite is it’s all coming back to me now, I crush that shit in karaoke.) Dean follows a mommy blog 🤣 of course he does, probably cuz he identifies with her more & loves that her life is so full of shit (like I said, he identifies with her).

God don’t sanction lying, the real God would never do such a thing. Isn’t it like the 6th commandment, thou shall not lie? Like dude, the fuck?!

And no, writing means telling stories that are often made up but it’s not meant to deceive anybody. But Hollywood on the other hand…yeesh.

Dean breaking Chuck’s guitar 🤣

Chuck saying ‘DON’T!’ Having Dean shook 🤣

Why are you asking them how things are, like you don’t know?! You’re omnipotent!

They canonically made the British queen a lizard? Damn. These old Americans (the writers) are dicks!

Finally Sam is speaking up! Thank God!

Dean stop blaming people, Jesus, it was an accident (Jack you phrased it sooooo poorly though)! shout out to Sam for taking it this so well cuz he’s been through too much this season alone. He lost a whole fucking army, then his mom after he got to know her this time! And the concussions! So many concussions.

Angry Cas is sooooo fucking hot 🥵 when he slammed that truck with his fist 😏

Awww the first thing he does when he sees Jack is hugs him. Jack needed that so bad!

The biggest travesty is we never got to see the SquirrelVerse!

When Sam asks if God is watching them — Sam do you even know what omnipresent means?!

It’s just like I said in season 11. God doesn’t owe anyone anything. But everyone owes Him everything. He gave everyone the freedom to choose, for better or worse. But this iteration of who God is seems to watch what people and creatures decide to do with their lives. He made the weapon to see who among Sam, Dean or Cas would take it and strike Jack down.

So ultimately when Dean tracks Jack down and Jack throws Cas into a tombstone and Sam is running dramatically to stop it, Dean ultimately decides not to kill Jack. But why though? He kept talking shit about how Jack needed to be dealt with, but when the moment comes, he won’t do it?! I mean I’m glad but it doesn’t really make sense?!

Was it the puppy eyes? Did Sam teach Jack that trick? But Jack closed his eyes at the last second???

Oh Dean, you’re such a fucking softie. That’s on you God. You made him softer than Mr. Pillsberry.

If anything, Dean is the step daddy. Cas is Daddy. And then there’s Uncle Sam 🤣

Sam is many things, but stupid is never one of them. Naïve maybe, trusting, desperate. But not stupid. And not crazy, this time 🤣

I will say what makes this story compelling is the fact that the Winchesters find themselves locked in a cycle of violence at the hands of their Creator, and they’re refusing to commit further acts of violence in effort to stop it all and rebel against their cruel, dispassionate maker. But they have no means to back it up…today.

Not the Burger King catchphrase🤣🤣🤣

Not Jack being…smote?

Not Dean being yeeted into another tombstone?

Sam, why did you think that was gonna work on God? He made the weapon. You really think He’d make something that could kill Himself? Nah bruh.

So we’ve approached the ending of the penultimate season. 20 more episodes to go! Ah!!!! I’m excited but also not since the ending is what I know (mildly).

Side note - Sam & Dean still don’t know about Castiel’s bargain with the Empty (kinda seems pointless since God killed Jack anyway…Cas basically fucked himself for nothing 🤦🏾‍♀️ [I know how it ends but yeah still])

It’s not about the destination though, it’s the journey (I keep telling myself that).

God said fuck y’all. Shouldn’t’ve poked the bear…now these poor innocent people gonna die like sheep to the slaughter. Y’all got a lot of cleaning up to do and with so little people to help you.

So did God undo all the killings the Winchesters did? Cuz damn….that’s 10+ years of work undone. In 1 moment.

They’re not getting out of the cycle anytime soon.

[maxybabyy]

I love how you write your girl!Max lestappen fics (and lestappen in general)! Do you have any plans for them? x

hi friend 🧡

this is so nice to hear and I’m so glad you like it! girl!max does live rent free in my head, so there will probably be more at some point.

I do have a lestappen girl!max fic outlined in the docs that I wanna write but a lot of the plot points focus on the 2021 season and are a bit outdated now 😔 but here is a small snippet for you

The drink is still sweating in her hand when someone comes up behind her.

She shivers at the touch to her side, the body heat bleeding through her thin dress where he’s pressed almost to her back. The bar isn’t full, but still she scoots to the side to make room and watches the arm follow her, strong and tanned where it rests on the bar.

There’s a faint tan line from a watch, soft brown hairs that probably would be soft to the touch.

Maybe if she hadn’t spent the day surrounded by men who didn’t think she would fit in the car because of her hips, her tits, Max would have pressed into the touch and found out how it felt wrapped around her body.

But her patience is almost gone, and so is her drink.

The ice cubes clink in her glass as she puts it down. The bartender must know she’s ready to bolt because he approaches with a look of apprehension, nervous hands wringing a washcloth between idle fingers. She ignores the back and forth in French and bends down for her jacket when suddenly –

“Can I have another beer please? What she is having also, merci.”

Max looks from her jacket on the floor to the bartender, and maybe it hadn’t been apprehension on his face after all. Maybe Max just sucks at facial expressions.

Her eyes follow tan skin down to his fingers, to the rings she should have recognised, the hangnail he had complained about after biting off. Even his scent reminds her of the track now, and she doesn’t know how she hadn’t known.

“I will of course have a vodka red bull, thank you.”

Charles whines and suddenly the touch of his arm is gone. “No, this I will not pay for.”

Max leans an elbow on the bar with a smile. She licks her lips and doesn’t know how to feel when Charles’ eyes turn just a shade darker, hazy probably with drink. “Then I will have a triple shot of vodka and a can of red bull also.”

“No, Max. You are being so stupid,” Charles tells her. He stands closer to the bar to point at the drinks menu, his front pressed almost entirely against her back. He’s warmer like this, and Max finds she doesn’t mind it, how his sweat-damp shirt sticks to her skin where the back of her dress dips low.

She feels the weight of his gaze on her face even as he says, “She will of course have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Always if you are trying to flirt, you should not do this, Charles. It is I think very rude,” Max tells him and ignores how her cheeks feels warm to touch, flushed with heat.

“I did not know – “ he says, and Max has always liked how indignant he sounds like this. He leans against the bar so only his knee rests against the outside of her thigh. “Also Max, do not lie to me, you do not drink vodka red bulls. This is ridiculous.”

Max sips her drink and shrugs, “If you are paying –“

Charles nudges the empty tumbler by her hands, “You think I would not buy this for you? Is it like this, whiskey?”

She should tell him probably that she likes the gin and tonic better, but she likes how the pout looks on his face, how the pressure of his knee has become more insistent.

“How about you win a race and then of course you can buy it for me,” she tells him instead.

The drink is still sweating in her hand when someone comes up behind her.

She shivers at the touch to her side, the body heat bleeding through her thin dress where he’s pressed almost to her back. The bar isn’t full, but still she scoots to the side to make room and watches the arm follow her, strong and tanned where it rests on the bar.

There’s a faint tan line from a watch, soft brown hairs that probably would be soft to the touch.

Maybe if she hadn’t spent the day surrounded by men who didn’t think she would fit in the car because of her hips, her tits, Max would have pressed into the touch and found out how it felt wrapped around her body.

But her patience is almost gone, and so is her drink.

The ice cubes clink in her glass as she puts it down. The bartender must know she’s ready to bolt because he approaches with a look of apprehension, nervous hands wringing a washcloth between idle fingers. She ignores the back and forth in French and bends down for her jacket when suddenly –

“Can I have another beer please? What she is having also, merci.”

Max looks from her jacket on the floor to the bartender, and maybe it hadn’t been apprehension on his face after all. Maybe Max just sucks at facial expressions.

Her eyes follow tan skin down to his fingers, to the rings she should have recognised, the hangnail he had complained about after biting off. Even his scent reminds her of the track now, and she doesn’t know how she hadn’t known.

“I will of course have a vodka red bull, thank you.”

Charles whines and suddenly the touch of his arm is gone. “No, this I will not pay for.”

Max leans an elbow on the bar with a smile. She licks her lips and doesn’t know how to feel when Charles’ eyes turn just a shade darker, hazy probably with drink. “Then I will have a triple shot of vodka and a can of red bull also.”

“No, Max. You are being so stupid,” Charles tells her. He stands closer to the bar to point at the drinks menu, his front pressed almost entirely against her back. He’s warmer like this, and Max finds she doesn’t mind it, how his sweat-damp shirt sticks to her skin where the back of her dress dips low.

She feels the weight of his gaze on her face even as he says, “She will of course have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Always if you are trying to flirt, you should not do this, Charles. It is I think very rude,” Max tells him and ignores how her cheeks feels warm to touch, flushed with heat.

“I did not know – “ he says, and Max has always liked how indignant he sounds like this. He leans against the bar so only his knee rests against the outside of her thigh. “Also Max, do not lie to me, you do not drink vodka red bulls. This is ridiculous.”

Max sips her drink and shrugs, “If you are paying –“

Charles nudges the empty tumbler by her hands, “You think I would not buy this for you? Is it like this, whiskey?”

She should tell him probably that she likes the gin and tonic better, but she likes how the pout looks on his face, how the pressure of his knee has become more insistent.

“How about you win a race and then of course you can buy it for me,” she tells him instead.

The drink is still sweating in her hand when someone comes up behind her.

She shivers at the touch to her side, the body heat bleeding through her thin dress where he’s pressed almost to her back. The bar isn’t full, but still she scoots to the side to make room and watches the arm follow her, strong and tanned where it rests on the bar.

There’s a faint tan line from a watch, soft brown hairs that probably would be soft to the touch.

Maybe if she hadn’t spent the day surrounded by men who didn’t think she would fit in the car because of her hips, her tits, Max would have pressed into the touch and found out how it felt wrapped around her body.

But her patience is almost gone, and so is her drink.

The ice cubes clink in her glass as she puts it down. The bartender must know she’s ready to bolt because he approaches with a look of apprehension, nervous hands wringing a washcloth between idle fingers. She ignores the back and forth in French and bends down for her jacket when suddenly –

“Can I have another beer please? What she is having also, merci.”

Max looks from her jacket on the floor to the bartender, and maybe it hadn’t been apprehension on his face after all. Maybe Max just sucks at facial expressions.

Her eyes follow tan skin down to his fingers, to the rings she should have recognised, the hangnail he had complained about after biting off. Even his scent reminds her of the track now, and she doesn’t know how she hadn’t known.

“I will of course have a vodka red bull, thank you.”

Charles whines and suddenly the touch of his arm is gone. “No, this I will not pay for.”

Max leans an elbow on the bar with a smile. She licks her lips and doesn’t know how to feel when Charles’ eyes turn just a shade darker, hazy probably with drink. “Then I will have a triple shot of vodka and a can of red bull also.”

“No, Max. You are being so stupid,” Charles tells her. He stands closer to the bar to point at the drinks menu, his front pressed almost entirely against her back. He’s warmer like this, and Max finds she doesn’t mind it, how his sweat-damp shirt sticks to her skin where the back of her dress dips low.

She feels the weight of his gaze on her face even as he says, “She will of course have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Always if you are trying to flirt, you should not do this, Charles. It is I think very rude,” Max tells him and ignores how her cheeks feels warm to touch, flushed with heat.

“I did not know – “ he says, and Max has always liked how indignant he sounds like this. He leans against the bar so only his knee rests against the outside of her thigh. “Also Max, do not lie to me, you do not drink vodka red bulls. This is ridiculous.”

Max sips her drink and shrugs, “If you are paying –“

Charles nudges the empty tumbler by her hands, “You think I would not buy this for you? Is it like this, whiskey?”

She should tell him probably that she likes the gin and tonic better, but she likes how the pout looks on his face, how the pressure of his knee has become more insistent.

“How about you win a race and then of course you can buy it for me,” she tells him instead.

[valiantstarlights]

Your showXcomic swap AU is so deliciously unhinged and sweetly dark

Now I have the saddest imagining that Comic Dream lost his Hob because he chose Death a few years after 1989, unable to live in a world where his Stranger "forgot" about him. The Stranger he loved for close to 600 years.

But I do hope that Comic Dream finds a Hob to love and cuddle and stockholm syndrome into loving him.

Thank you! 🥰 I worked hard on the sweetly dark part, in the hopes that it would make the fic less unhinged. 😊 *glances at Dream* I think I failed, but that's okay! 😂

(putting everything else under the cut because fic spoilers 👀 CW: comic spoilers, dark!Dream, depression, dubious consent)

In this AU's multiverse, what you're imagining is definitely possible. 😔 There are Hobs who chose to take Death's hand after Dream didn't show up in 1989, Hobs who did it during one of the World Wars out of overwhelming grief, heartbroken Hobs in 1889, etc.

In The Truth Can't Hurt You, It's Just Like the Dark, I imagined that Dream lost his Hob in 1689, and his realm has been deteriorating ever since. And the state of the Dreaming is so bad that, after Dream escapes from his fishbowl, there is absolutely nothing left in the Dreaming except for ruins.

"But where are all the dreams and nightmares who have escaped to the Waking World?" you may ask.

As this is a dark AU, I'm gonna say that Dream ate them. 👀

He escapes and devours the first dreams and nightmares he finds in the Waking World without conscious thought. Just full on starving man at a feast mode. Because while he is Endless, he has also been starving for centuries, and the fishbowl made him feral enough to not care about anything except getting sustenance.

His arcanas give him more of a fight, though they do so with reluctance. Dream looks so gaunt, and they remember being lovingly crafted by him once upon a time. Surely they could help him, just a little, without losing themselves in the process?

But no. This Dream is too empty, too hungry, and has lost too much to hear their cries of mercy, and their pleas of no more, my lord, please, I still want to live!

I think Dream intentionally finds Corinthian last, and I think he relished each and every bite of him.

Does Desire go through with their dream vortex plan, knowing that their brother is already a shell of his former, haughty self? Probably not.

And anyway, I don't think Dream would talk to his siblings after 1689 at all. But especially not to Death. Even during their family dinners, and even with Destruction trying to get him to talk, Delirium trying to cheer him up, and Death apologizing endlessly because it was Hob's choice--

He doesn't say anything, doesn't eat anything, and just stares at the tablecloth until it's time to leave.

Desire senses no desire from him. Despair feels all his despair, but even that is too much for her. She chokes when she tries to bait him, while Desire feels like their lungs are collapsing because it's hard to breathe around him. It only takes one or two family dinners for the twins to ignore him completely. They both sit as far away as they can from him. They do not want to even look at him. (They still plot to get him captured though, but in this universe, it's because they hope that he becomes so weak that he would be forced to end his being Morpheus and become a new Dream of the Endless.)

On the bright(?) side, yes, this Dream will absolutely find a show!Hob who would love him and all his red flags. 👀 I think the Hob he'll find is very compassionate, and would see the state of him and his realm, and immediately be like, 'This Dream needs me, unlike my Dream whose funeral I just went to. 🥺 I cannot possibly abandon him.'

This Dream needs an entire realm's worth of new dreams and nightmares? Hob can help with that! Just tell him how, and he'll get to work. 😊

Rejuvenated by Hob's presence, Dream recovers his ability to create new dreams and nightmares from dreamsand. But Hob looks so eager to help, and Dream can't possibly let him down and say he can make new dreams and nightmares on his own.

So he tells Hob that they absolutely have to fuck, and Hob has to get pregnant and give birth to all of Dream's children. Because that's how dreams and nightmares are made.

Hob is intimidated because he has never even thought about being pregnant before. But if it's with Dream... 🥺👉👈

And a Dream who has been so kind to him ever since he arrived, never leaving his side and telling him that he loves no one else but him? A Dream who literally ripped the fabric of reality apart for him?

"Of course I'll help," Hob says shyly. "It might be a frightening experience, but as long as you're with me, I'm not going to be afraid. 🥰"

(Cue Dream immediately teleporting them both to the comfiest spot in the currently work-in-progress Dreaming and fucking Hob until his seed takes, because why does Hob know exactly how to make Dream insane about him? 🔥 Is that a skill that all show!Hobs have or something?)

And then of course Hob discovers that he absolutely loves being pregnant, because Dream dotes on him even more. So even when Dream confesses that he lied about the process of making dreams and nightmares, Hob just laughs and kisses him, and tells him to abandon his old way of creating on the beach, because Hob definitely prefers this method.

Needless to say, Dream is absolutely head-over-heels in love with his new Hob. He makes his castle--and basically the entire Dreaming, to Hob's liking. Hob would like to have more bright courtyards filled with flowering trees and picnic spots? Done. Hob would like for all their children to be able to have their own homes (so he and Dream can fuck wherever they want in the castle without getting interrupted)? A stellar idea. Dream helps Lucienne 2.0 build her house that's full of books, Gilbert 2.0 with his botanical gardens, and even Corinthian 2.0 with his sarlacc pit.

As a result, the new Dreaming is a cheerier and brighter place. The new dreams and nightmares love their parents very much, and they do not find it strange that both Dream and Hob always smell like sex, with their moddy always happily pregnant, and their father always smug and possessive.

Dream learns to delegate most of his tasks to his many children, so he and Hob could work on making more dreams and nightmares to repopulate the entire Dreaming. It's Hob's idea that he delegates so they can fuck more, and Dream thinks that his lovely husband has all the best ideas and can do no wrong.

And in this universe, all the new dreams and nightmares agree. Having Hob in the new Dreaming is a blessing. Absolutely the best thing that has ever happened ever. And the entire realm will go to war with anyone who would try to take him away from them.

[cappuccilious]

HCQ if they were in a danmei setting

Don’t take this seriously, I’m just having fun

Same canon timeline from game except Elio and Kafka support Ren when recalling his lost memory.

Dan Heng is not shallow enough to believe in the rumors about Dan Feng and he would actually investigate (like Lan Wangji investigating the trigger of Wei Wuxian loss of control)

Jing Yuan would be suspicious and investigate the preceptors in the shadows once he gathers the puzzle pieces (instead of waiting for who knows how many hundreds of years have passed since Dan Feng molting rebirth).

Like Dan Heng, Ren would also have little bits of memory recall (mirages) when he visits old places that he and Dan Feng used to stroll and hangout.

I forgot to mention that Ren and Dan Heng’s relationship is still the same, Ren chasing and telling Dan Heng to pay for their sins.

But this time, he also does some investigating himself when the actual suspicion that during the incident in the past is too strange.

(I just want people to stop thinking Dan Feng is a villain 😔)

Dan Heng having dreams of Dan Feng talking to him.

Unlike in-game again, Jingliu acknowledges that she is an unreliable narrator that she has suspicions of what happened, mentioning that there might be a third party.

Dragon heart theory

Jingliu tries to recall what happened to Baiheng’s remains

Renheng reconciliation arc actually happens.

Ren and Dan Heng have their moments like working together without fighting for once, booking one room and one bed, Ren not admitting he is jealous when he doesn’t know anything about Dan Heng, and Dan Heng comforting Ren when he’s having nightmares.

Jingliu seeks help from Luocha who can aid him to not only communicate with the dead but also proceed their plan against the Aeons.

The way we have readables that suspects the preceptors involvement but Dan Heng never reads them so in this AU, this Dan Heng ACTUALLY READS.

Ren accepts Dan Feng is gone and face Dan Heng in the present. Dan Heng accepts Yingxing might never return and face Ren in the present (in the future Ren’s old habits comes back).

Dan Feng sacrificing the world and his own future to save Yingxing while Dan Heng sacrificing his own lifespan and cloudhymn magic that belonged to the Aeon of Permanence, Long to save Ren.

To get rid of the immortality and return Dan Heng’s full power back, Ren returned the dragon heart to Dan Heng.

Dan Heng waiting for Ren to wake up for 400 years. In those years, Dan Heng cleaned and fixed the mess that Dan Feng was not able to do, remove the High Elder system and took away the elders and preceptors’ duty from teaching the young.

Dan Heng continues the plan Dan Feng of setting his people free from the samsara cycle.

Along the way, Dan Heng was able to find a solution how to get rid of the mara (I ain’t gonna explain that, it’s a long explanation)

Jingliu traveling the world, from planet to planet while carrying the last memento of Baiheng. Promising that they would meet and cross paths again.

Jing Yuan retiring and letting both Fu Xuan and Yanqing handle his duties. He decided to carve his own path and hopes to be able to meet Dan Heng again.

Dan Heng wanted to be there when Ren wakes up but he’s needed by his companions. To the sleeping Ren, he promises he would look for him.

Few days later, Ren woke up to an empty room. Elio, Kafka and Silver came by later while Ren was getting ready to depart with them.

Before they left, Ren told Elio that he would temporarily leave the group soon.

Silver asked why, only for Ren to answer that he has unfinished business with the owner who has the other half of his bracer.

The end. I might have missed something but nothing important, probably!

Having 4/5 unreliable narrators is… hard to accept. Not even Jing Yuan is a reliable one even if he wasn’t involve.

Xianzhou plot is just an overall mess, it’s like almost everyone accepted Dan Feng destroyed the universe or something when there are still sinister masterminds lurking in the shadows of Luofu roaming freely.

So I just made my own AU of to make myself feel better. Please don’t take this seriously if you’re gonna get affected negatively 🙏

[killakalx]

OMG I have a beef with Tom Taylor that he doesn’t know about!

1. He blocked me on Twitter in 2021 and in 2023😭😭😭

2. How he wrote Constantine. He literally took all the stereotypes about bisexuals and combined them in Constantine even though John was one of the few good bisexual representations

3. How he wrote Nightwing. Instead of a cynical and intelligent hero, one of the most complex characters in the universe, his Nightwing became himbo.

4. His series is literally all empty moments. Dick talks about big things all the time, but he never faces any real problems with his choices. All his problems are solved for him, and he himself is a completely passive protagonist.

5. My main problem with his Nightwing is that he should be dead by now. If this is truly Dick's character, he has no sense of self-preservation or healthy cynicism (accepting a glass of water from his enemies or exposing himself to the president).

His planning is shortsighted (should have been killed by Gunhawk and Gunbunny's sniper shot) and not particularly intelligent (summoning Bruce to do his detective work for him), so how is he not dead yet?

6. How he constantly makes Clark insufferable just to make Bruce look better.

7. The way he writes Damian. He constantly makes him act like he's a fucking rabid and wild dog.

8. He has to artificially create conflict. Taylor would rather make Dick, the acrobat, afraid of heights than have actual proper conflict in the stories.

9. How he blocks every single person engaging in good faith criticism of him and pretends like it's all some murderous dick/starfire fan conspiracy. I think half of the fandom is blocked by him.

10. He can’t write my wife starfire for shit Personally, I don’t think Tom Taylor is trying to “ruin” Starfire. I think he (and many other DC Comics writers) don’t understand who she is a character. I think Starfire is a very hard character to write in general due to all the different interpretations of her.

11. His injustice run

12. How he writes my pookie Daredevil🙁 His Matt(AND Tony) feels so bland that you think that it’s not even Matt but some dude with the same name.

But if we thinking about his Nightwing as just a silly and unserious version of Dick, I have no problem with that. I myself spent a fair amount of money on his comics back in the day because I couldn't bring myself to read anything else for a long time. His writing is not bad but it’s not great either. It’s okay I think?

But anyway it’s just my opinion and I might be wrong😅

this is nice bc i basically listened to tidbits and summaries of his nightwing run. i didn’t get a real peek into his character outside of just what happened to him and what he did i guess

1. damn double whammy 😭

2. i know nothing of constantine but i know too much about bi stereotypes

3. i agree that he isn’t all that complex but i like himbo nightwing 🙁 i’m a simple girl i fear.

4. i do see this part though!! i’m not highly critical of plots most of the time but i do notice when it seems vague.

5. “he should be dead by now” alr damn 😔. but i see the issue. he’s been dumbed down and everyone else has to help him do things he should be capable of doing himself

6. this is out of my realm bc i don’t know much about clark’s character anyway. i do want to see more of him though, i’ve been meaning to watch a few of his movies. and NO it is definitely not bc i’m starting to think too much about fucking him !

7. this is also out of my realm bc i don’t know damian’s character. as you interact with me you’ll quickly learn that i only really care about my pookies

8. ok… what.

9. mmm he’s giving barb…

10. atp let me write starfire goddamn !

ok i get this!! gonna start saying bruno redondo’s my favorite nightwing since he’s the artist. ty for filling me in love :))

[lilac-5ky]

Heyyyy😏 can you write something for Gintoki where you get in an argument with him (cause he’s a jerk) and then he says something so back handed to you (cause he’s a jerk) and you just walk of and like cry or sumn cause it hurt so much and he just tries to apologize and it gets a little emotional idk I just need something that’ll hurt me a little bit 😔😣

A/N: Hi! I feel like Gintoki is more likely to apologize through his action than his words, and so his apology is mostly done than said :p Not sure if this is super angsty, but I hope it's good enough!

Plot: Gin being a piece of shit who never cleans and upsets poor innocent reader with his attitude.

Warning: Gets a bit suggestive with language and some minor angst ig?

Arguing with Gintoki (x Fem!Reader)

(just look at him being disgusting and cute.)

There are many reasons for one to pick a fight with Gintoki. Be it Otose arguing with him over rent delays, or Kagura and Shinpachi demanding their pay, there’s always someone at odds with the Odd Jobs’ boss.

However, when it came down to you, perhaps you had an easier time letting things slip. You’d stayed around long enough to get acclimated to all those wacky situations Gintoki involved himself in, as well as his hectic and lazy persona.

At this point, you’d earned yourself the nickname “saint” from his peers, considering how you seemed to be the only one with enough patience to put up with him. But even a saint’s patience has its limits.

When you walked into Yorouzya on a day like any other, finding an absolute war-zone where his couch once stood, not even that Buddha’s patience of yours was enough to shield your faint heart.

No way in hell would you willingly pick up his dirty underwear off the fan, or clean after the millions of empty takeout boxes residing under the kotatsu (just how much food can a person consume overnight?!), while Gintoki remained idly picking on his nose like a primadonna. This had to end.

“Gin,” you asked in a near pleading tone that went unnoticed.

“Gin?” Your second attempt was too ignored, his attention monopolized by the weather girl inside the little black screen.

Frustrated beyond compare, you threw about the first object your hands could find onto his head, leaving him with no other choice but to face you. The noodle box ended up landing like a party hat, with a string of curry dropping down his forehead. He sported a somewhat disturbed look, though that wasn’t enough to prevent him from turning back to the tv the second the noodle box fell to the floor.

“Gin!” Unable to contain your temper, you jumped to block his view.

“Huh? Y/N?” Gintoki queried as if he wasn’t even aware of your presence in prior, something that only added fuel to the fire. “What are you doing here?”

“Not cleaning your mess, that’s for sure. What’s this?” You paused to point at the underwear and then his leftovers. “And this? Who’s going to clean all this?”

“Quit nagging, it’s not even 12.” He yawned, stretching his limbs across the couch. “Kagura will probably feed them to Sadaharu, or Tama will pass by later. Just leave them be.”

You couldn’t believe in your eyes, or rather your ears. How could someone this irresponsible be running a business, when this was the kind of reception he had in store for any poor soul that dared walk in? It wasn’t as if Yorozuya was ever the pantheon of work ethics to begin with, but this was too much even for him. Feeding the trash to the dog, just what was he thinking?

“Are you for real? Why would…? Who would… ?” One unfinished sentence followed the other while you struggled to find the right words. “Nevermind. It’s no wonder no one sets foot in here nowadays. Only an idiot would choose another hare-brained idiot to handle their job for them.” You spat bitterly.

“Then I guess that makes you into an even greater idiot, Y/N. Or else you wouldn’t be showing at my doorstep to bitch about something this trivial, especially when it’s none of your concern.” He followed in the same tone, bringing the already heavy atmosphere even further down.

“It’s none of my concern whether my boyfriend’s house reeks like a dumpster? Or whether it gets infested with cockroaches? Then whose is it?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You know, since I too spend the night here from time to time, I would appreciate if the smell of soured ramen didn’t have to compete with that of your underwear.”

Gintoki sighed in response, lazily combing through his disheveled hair with one hand. You’d always been fond of that scruffy appearance of his, but right now, all it did was add more fuel to the fire, providing you with yet another reason to stay mad at his disposition.

“And do something about your appearance already! It looks as if a crow nested in there!”

“Oi, Y/N. Is it that day of the month? I don’t remember you being such an overbearing control freak.”

“I don’t remember you being such a bum.” You argued back.

“If I’m such a bum then why do you insist on coming here?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

The lack of sound succeeding your heated exchange was perhaps even more disturbing than the argument itself. You got so caught up in talking back to him, that before you knew it, such regrettable words came pouring out your mouth.

“What are you standing here for?” Gintoki asked, his otherwise dead fish eyes now beaming with resentment. “The door is right there. Leave.”

Was this really… it? Was he about to forsake everything the two of you had come to be over a silly argument?

With your questions unanswered and your steps heavier than before, you paced outside Yorozuya. This definitely wasn’t the kind of time you’d hoped to spend over at his place. Part of you expected to hear his voice a final time, to receive the affirmation that this was nothing but a silly lover’s quarrel, though silence came to be your sole companion. Silence, and whatever this gut wrenching emotion was.

Little by little, you felt the oxygen within your lungs igniting you whole, slowly burning at your fuse until you couldn’t go on anymore. Crouched near the ground, all you could do was bawl right outside Otose’s bar, meekly hoping that no one was around to notice your muffled cries.

Was it frustration or was it hurt? You couldn’t tell. The only thing you knew was that this was the first time you’d ever felt such uncertainty. Shoes of different color stopped before you, each pair belonging to yet another passerby who felt entitled to shoot his look of pity your way, but not entitled enough to pry any further, to approach any closer.

It was your fault. If only you’d kept your mouth shut, then nothing would have happened. Gintoki wouldn’t get annoyed, he wouldn’t raise his voice, he wouldn’t dare say such horrible things, and he…you…

No. It was his fault for being this messy and unjust. Even if you were a bit too harsh, you acted out of genuine concern. You had no intention to watch as he festered within the four rusty walls of his house. Gintoki had always been the kind to take care of everyone, but when it came down to his own self, he seldom bothered to lift a finger.

What others attributed as mere laziness, you knew better. It was almost as if by wallowing in such unspoken misery, he was atoning for something. As if he was repenting for past sins only he knew of. Either way, his disregard for his own well-being showed in every single aspect of his lifestyle. From the sorry state of his house, to his own unkempt appearance.

You remembered of the first time you met Gin. You recalled thinking how despite his exterior, he bore resemblance to a mirror. A blurred, borderline shattered glass, be it one that let you see an image of yourself clearer than any you’d seen before. The good with the bad, the beauty and the ugliness, the flaws and the imperfections. Everything that made you into who you were was right there, delving in those maroon eyes of his.

Perhaps Gintoki was never meant to shine on his own. Perhaps his strength lied in making others shine brightest, in reflecting not the image you longed to see, but the one closest to reality.

You liked yourself when you were with him. You felt certain and grounded at the same time. That should you ever lose your way, one look at him would be enough to guide you back. You liked that, but more importantly, you liked him. That silver gleam of his was what made you fall for him in the first place.

He was right. You were overbearing and overzealous and butted in his business without thinking twice, and that was precisely why you wouldn’t give up on him. No matter what it took, you’d never quit clearing his soul off the distortions haunting it. Not before making sure that the man known as Sakata Gintoki would never grow dim, that was.

And so, you wiped the tears with the back of your hand and rose to your feet. One by one, you climbed the steps to Yorozuya all the way to the top where you stood still. What would you say to him? Apologies were never your forte and neither his. Showing up to clean his apartment as if you were part of a clean-up crew didn’t seem like a great idea either, especially when one considered the nature of your argument. What if he pushed you away again? What if he demanded that you leave?

No. No, even if he did that, there was no way you’d run. It didn’t matter if he called you names, if he dragged you outside or any of these things, really. You’d made up your mind to clean after his own mess for however long he needed you to. Until he learned to do it for himself. Until he was forced to get a real look at who he really was. That self destruction bullshit of his had to end.

Before you had the chance to contemplate any longer, the door went wide open with Gintoki appearing on the other side, evidently taken aback by your sudden reappearance.

“I-” You said in unison, each stopping at the other’s interruption.

“You-“Another failed attempt.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to blurt out everything without giving him the chance to cut in a third time. Here goes nothing.

“I’m sorry for acting like an evil mother-in-law and yelling at you the way I did. You are right, I am an overbearing control freak, but I never meant to criticize you. I felt as if that was the only way to make you listen, and I honestly can’t stand to see you living life in a swap because, Gintoki, to me you are someone very important and I only want to see you thrive. Why are you so unkind towards your own self? No matter what happened in the past, you shouldn’t let it bring you down.”

You took a short pause. Perhaps giving him a lecture about past trauma would only get him to retreat further in his shell.

“My point is, I don’t intend to stop bitching at you. Whether you like it or not, I’ll keep interfering in your business, until you stop doing yourself injustice. So please, accept my earnest concern and, for the love of god, allow me to clean your house.”

Your outburst imposed a bemused expression on his face, one that was quickly replaced by a forced snort.

“What are you talking about?” Gin leaned against the frame with his index lazily poking past the shell of his ear. “I don’t recall you paying any visits whatsoever.”

“Wait- what?”

“You play weird pranks, Y/N. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Or is this a dream you are talking about?”

It was your turn to be dumbfounded. Was this a joke or was he simply going to act as if the whole incident never occurred in the first place?

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I grow an extra set of balls on my forehead?” He asked, patting down his head.

You brushed his comment off, unsure of what to say next. The mood had completely shifted with Gin returning to his usual “charming” self, something over which you were truthfully thankful. Of course his throwing you out meant nothing. After all, this was nothing but a silly lover’s quarrel.

“No… but looks like your wish is granted.” You jested, removing a noodle that was dangling between silver strands of hair. “It’s finally straightening up.”

Gintoki frowned, looking away while you chuckled.

“If you have the time to be running your mouth, come in already.” He mumbled before scooting to the side.

Upon entering the hallway, the first thing to catch your attention was the scent. It smelled like primrose and magnolia, the sweet vanilla essence completely taking over the foul odor previously emitted by his living room. Did someone visit him while you were gone, or did he actually douse it with perfume?

As the two of you progressed to the living room, your surprise only increased, to the point of making you wonder whether you’d entered the wrong building. Rather than encounterig the same chaos you did earlier, you found a spotless table and an even more spotless couch. The noodle boxes, the plastic cutlery, even the half torn underwear; they had all disappeared.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d place your bet on a second Amanto invasion happening, but the moment you took notice in the half concealed mop lurking between the closet’s folds, there was no doubt anymore. He had cleaned. Gintoki had actually cleaned!

“Gin…” His name was cut in half by a sole sob.

“What are you crying for?” He asked, genuinely confused by your reaction.

“I can’t believe you did such a thing.” You went on, feeling truly grateful. “Everything is squeaky clean!”

Perhaps Gintoki sucked at apologies, but when it came to making things right, he never failed to impress. He always knew exactly what to do. A push was all he needed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gintoki said as he approached you from behind. “It’s always clean around here.”

You were about to object to that, when you felt a pair of arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer for him to press his body against yours. Instinctively, you looked up at him, the look in his eyes indicating he was up to no good.

“But if cleanliness is not what you want, I know of a way to make things dirty again.”

On second thought, a bit of disarray never hurt.

[seoafin]

jjk fell so hard it hurts 😭 the tragic aspect of jjk is the fact that it used to be GOOD people used to enjoy the character interactions and plot twists and death used to actually hold weight (junpei, riko, nanami, mai and even yuji's grandpa tbh 💀) character deaths like yuki (i will never be over the way she had been under utilized despite the amount of potential she had. but NOPE gonna give her research to some guy and kill her off!), tsumiki (it wouldve been better if she willingly tried to kill sukuna and died rather than being possessed 💀), miminana (???? they were his daughters 😭 literally no one ever remembers them because they ended up being basically irrelevant lol) fell flat because we knew literally nothing abt them. its sad because we've seen gege write AMAZING arcs like perfect prep, goodwill event, shibuya, hidden inventory that tell us abt the characters. ofc theyre not perfect but atleast they were written with actual thought and care in regards to the general story. its so obvious gege wants to get jjk over with because its SO BAD now. gojo returning felt empty and dry. also the timeskip.........INTERESTING CHOICE FOR A STORY THATS ALREADY BEING RUSHED !!! not even going to touch on the nobara thing or the yaga one. we just get one line of him being sad. 😭😭😭 the only good thing abt this ch was the fact that we got shoko smiling godbless 🙏😔

DON'T REMIND MEEEEEEE so many characters killed off without a second thought....it's just not right (miminana YUKI NOBARA.) the only thing tying together jjk and keeping it from falling apart atp is the fandom and the stsg fans 😭 nothing makes sense anymore i personally wouldn't be surprised if this megumi/sukuna vs gojo fight went on for 15 chapters and then akutami just ended it with a lukewarm ending. it's just disappointing now we've barely had any time to truly digest the losses without akutami jerking us in a whole new direction. rip to jjk it was good while it lasted

[professionalmenkisser]

I don't like season 3 at all. I know it's all about the end and how everything is getting resolved but I'm very unsatisfied.

I miss the meaningful conversations between people because Sweet Home from the start was about people. People are home for each other. I miss how they all just sat there and talked. I miss the melancholic, nostalgic and full of longing vibe that was also depressing asf. The soldiers lowkey gave it to me but what about the rest? I wanted Hyunsu and Eunyu to talk more. I also wanted maybe more grieving after everyone. I wanted it to be as tragic as before. I know they're probably used to everyone around them dying but I feel like it's not depressing enough. I expected absolute devastation in the end, most people not even getting over what happened and not everyone smiling

I feel like there aren't much scenes where you can actually feel the peace in all that heartwrenching tragedy. Even the death's don't feel too painful.

And some points in plot don't really make sense. Like Eunyu showing symptoms or the Priest caring for that woman.

Honestly? Sergeant Kim is the only character that actually meets my requirements. Almost cuz I expected him to take Seokchan's necklace to himself (they're gay and if u don't see it ur blind) but it's alr ig 😔😔

Anyway, I also expected him to grieve afterwards a bit more but the way he was screaming, angry and absolutely empty when he lost basically all his friends (and a boyfriend) is probably enough. He's the strongest soldier I love him

Also I love Sangwook, man's great

I hate how they literally replayed one scene two times 💀

Basically it ain't enough and I might write my own version cuz wtf is this

I feel like I talk too much but who cares