#out of many characters that can see through the weird reality bending is him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nochuvalencia · 4 years ago

Text

𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk

I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi

⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have

“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.

“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.

“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.

You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.

Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.

He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.

After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.

You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.

You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.

“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.

A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.

It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?

You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.

He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.

It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.

So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.

A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.

+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?

+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?

+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore

You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.

me : it’s my car asshole

me : bought it with the money u left me

me :thx baby <3

+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?

me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck

+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money

me : why should i listen to you?

me : you aren’t my bf

+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u

me : already did bye babe

You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.

Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..

And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.

This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”

You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.

“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.

“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.

“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.

“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.

And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.

“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.

“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.

“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.

“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.

“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.

“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.

“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.

“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.

“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.

Yummy as fuck.

Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.

“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.

“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.

You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.

+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run

+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove

“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.

You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?

You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.

me : i’ll take your offer

me : this is ____ btw

You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.

+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are

+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20

+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart

Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.

In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.

You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.

“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.

“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.

“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.

“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”

You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.

“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.

“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.

“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.

“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.

You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.

Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.

It was huge.

You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.

Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.

“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.

You were wrong. He noticed immediately.

He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.

“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.

“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.

He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.

“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.

“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.

He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.

“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.

“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.

“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.

You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.

“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.

He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.

“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.

After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.

You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.

“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.

“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.

You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.

“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.

When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #jeon jungguk #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #oneshot #mafia!bts #mafia!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts angst #mafia au #GUNPLAYHAHAHA #IM SUPER EFFED UP #this took sooooo long

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onmyyan · 4 years ago

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Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader #yandere Joseph #yandere josuke #yandere Kira yoshikage #kira yoshikage #josuke higashitaka #yandere x y/n #yandere imagine #yandere x reader #yandere mista #guido mista #yandere Joseph Jostar

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beauty-and-passion · 4 years ago

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A (not so) brief post about my favourite Sanders Sides ships

It all started with this ask:

I just wanted to write a short answer, I swear. Just a short answer with a tiny little explanation about why I like these ships in particular.

But then I got a bit carried away, my explanations became longer and so here I am, writing a full post.

One small clarification before starting: ships don’t have a place in my analyses. If I talk about connections between Sides, these connections are always in terms of friendships, cooperation or familial relationships. The romantic aspect is something different and I may joke about it sometimes, but it’s just a joke.

There is a time and space for romantic relationships - and it looks like that time has come.

______________________________

Janus and Patton

I've always liked the canonical ship, in (almost) every fandom. So of course I like the canonical ship of this fandom as well :P

Jokes aside, this ship is incredibly mature, very interesting and terribly hard to talk about. The nature of these two characters, their roles and the episodes that had them involved proved how these two speak the same language, work in the same field and, ultimately, need each other.

* More similar that we think

If we look at them on a superficial level, Janus and Patton are completely opposites: one is cynical and cold, the other is a ball of sunshine. One is dark and suave, the other is goofy and bright. Janus' moral is "step on others and only care about yourself", Patton's moral is "help others because they are more important than you".

These differences became clearer over time, the more we learned about Janus and compared him with Patton. However, along these differences, some similarities started to emerge. Some qualities.

Janus and Patton want what's good for Thomas. They are humble enough to recognize their mistakes (the latest example was POF). They have a strong empathy. They’re kind. They’re mature adults (even if Patton doesn’t show it too often). And they both love and use puns.

But that’s not all. Along with these qualities, we found out that these two have similar flaws: they are both liars. They are incredibly persuasive to the point of manipulation. They have a huge influence over the mind (and the other Sides). They both deal with denial.

And this isn't just important, but it's a fundamental point for their character growth. Why? Because if they have similar flaws, if they are both liars and manipulators, then they cannot deceive each other.

And this is HUGE, especially for Patton! By his own admission, Patton lied multiple times, especially about his feelings (the Nostalgia episodes) and his thoughts (the most recent wedding/callback saga).

He always got away with it, because he was lying to other Sides and Thomas. But what would the point be, to lie to the literal embodiment of lies? Janus already knows what of his words are lies and what not, so it would be absolutely useless to do it.

Therefore, if Patton cannot lie to Janus, he cannot pretend everything is alright when it's not or hide his thoughts on a certain topic. He cannot shift the attention somewhere else or let a conversation drop. That means Patton cannot avoid confrontation about his thoughts/feelings and oh boy if he really needs to talk about them - especially with someone mature like Janus.

And yes, having someone who is able to see past your lies means being a lot vulnerable... but also a lot freerer. With Janus, Patton won’t have to pretend to be the strongest one: he can allow himself to be weak and confused, because if he doesn’t have an answer or if the weight of decisions is too much to carry, he has Janus with whom he can share it.

* A foundation of mutual respect

This point has never been fully addressed, but it was very well implied by their words/behaviours since Janus’ first appearance.

The first proof we have is CLBG: after Deceit revealed himself and disappeared, all the Sides and Thomas went through various degrees of shock, frustration and anger. Patton, on the other hand, was the only one who showed a pretty calm demeanor.

He should've been the angriest, considering that Janus took HIS place and pretended to be HIM the whole time. And yet, not only Patton didn't show any resentment, but he didn't talk bad about Janus (even if he had all the reasons to) and he even justified the other Side’s actions to Thomas:

[Patton]: Kiddo, simply put, Deceit is an inner coach that acts with the one intention of self-preservation.

Patton could’ve said anything, to make Janus appear as the worst. And his words could've had a lot of influence on Thomas, considering they were coming from his heart.

However, Patton didn't say anything too bad about Janus - not even in the following episodes.

Then we reach POF: Patton's monologue about his morals went so dramatically bad, he turned into a giant frog with abs and Janus had to sweep in to save Thomas.

In that moment, he could've said ANYTHING to make Patton appear as the worst Side ever. He had his chance on a silver plate: Patton was wrong, he had been wrong the whole time, he was literally ready to fight Thomas.

And yet, Janus took Patton's defense:

[Deceit]: He didn't mislead you on purpose, Thomas. I don't think the little guy... or... the big frog is capable of that sort of thing.

In addition to that, let’s consider Janus' whole attitude towards Patton in SvS: he basically spent an entire episode trying to make Patton understand his point.

[Deceit]: You can defend him all you like... But you can't change the facts. Is Thomas an innocent little lamb? Let's let them be the judge of that.

Why did he insist so much on this? Why not tricking Patton like he did with Roman or ignoring him like he did with Logan?

Because Janus knows how important Patton's role is and his whole behaviour shows respect towards the other Side. Unlike the others, who tend to diminish/forget Patton’s importance, Janus never did and always tried to reach him in the most honest, difficult way: through dialogue and confrontation.

And when he failed, instead of disregarding Patton’s importance, he just kept trying again, until his message finally reached the other Side.

* The perfect working partner

POF proved Patton can't bear the weight of the decision-making process all by himself. He needs another Side who can help him and Janus perfectly fills this role.

But why Janus? Why not Logan? Logan is a very mature Side, he can deal with a lot of stress, he's extremely organized and knows a lot. Surely he can help Patton with the decision-making process, right?

Not exactly. For his own admission, morals and ethics are not Logan's area of expertise (as it should be: logic can’t be influenced by what’s considered “good” or “bad”: logic is neutral). Secondly, Logic isn't an emotional-driven Side: logic is way less affected by emotions than other Sides - especially compared to Patton, who is the embodiment of emotions.

What Patton needs is a mature Side with a grey mentality, humble enough to respect him/not diminish his role, from his same area of expertise and enough emotional-driven to connect with him on an emotional/empathetic level.

And Janus is the only one who fills all those points. Even the latter, as we saw in the last part of POF:

[Patton]: Janus... Do you think there's a limit... on how many times someone can say sorry... before you have to admit... that they're just bad for you? [Janus]: Oh, definitely not. I'd love for someone to ruin Thomas' entire life one apology at a time. [Patton]: Okay. [Janus]: (After seeing Patton's reaction)The reality is that... it depends.

Janus' answer changed, the moment he realized Patton didn't get his sarcasm, by switching from ironic to honest. This is the kind of emotional connection Patton needs, something that doesn’t require words, but a small gesture that says more than a thousand words (yes, I’m also talking about that gaze and the small nod in the end card).

If we add to all of that the detail that Janus can nullify Patton's excuses and see past his lies, we have the perfect partner to help him grow up.

But this cooperation isn’t just one-sided: Janus needs Patton just as much as Patton needs him.

Why? First of all, to have a seat at the table. After years hiding, Janus can finally talk to Thomas, introduce his cynical mentality, make Thomas a little more selfish and help him grow up.

Secondly, by cooperating with Patton, Janus will become a better Side: he will learn to compromise, to work together and, most importantly, to trust Patton. And this is a particularly important point because, as I said in my analysis of POF, Janus isn’t used to trust others and he doesn’t want them to see past his barriers. Working with Patton might be exactly what he needs to trust the other Sides and lower these barriers, even a tiny bit.

* The romantic possibility

Considering all of the above points, the idea that their cooperation could evolve into something romantic-driven isn't so strange. The elements are all here, there's nothing weird to add nor need to bend canon, in order to make the ship happen. Their mutual acceptance can easily become need, learning more about each other can easily evolve into desiring each other and friendship could grow into passion.

And, of course, let's not forget marriage. These two can only end up in marriage. I mean, one is a dad, the other is a mom witch, so they are a perfect match XD

My point is: this ship isn't just a “cute couple being cute”. It's about dialogues. Conversations about themselves, their different points of view, their morals, their cooperation, how to help Thomas and the other Sides. It's based on listening to each other, on knowing each other a little more every day. On being silly together, working and failing together, going down and getting up, because there is someone by your side to lend a helping hand.

This is what makes Janus and Patton the most realistic, mature couple. And that's probably why it's so hard to perfectly nail it.

______________________________

Logan and Remus

Here it is, the couple that blew up after one episode and was confirmed in the most recent Aside.

But seriously, these two have a huge potential - first as friends/working partners, then as romantic partners. Logan and Remus need each other and the reasons are pretty clear:

- Having an interlocutor

Remus is Unleashed Creativity, a volcano of ideas in constant need of new stimuli, no matter if they are considered good or bad. After all "good and bad are all made up nonsense", as he said.

Logan is a walking encyclopedia in search of someone who wants to listen to him. He's pure, undiluted knowledge because that's what logic should be. No morals about what's good and what's bad, no emotions, nothing but neutral knowledge.

Considering that, it’s pretty clear these two have to come into contact. But what would they gain?

Well, Remus would have the stimuli he desperately craves. And Logan?

Logan would gain an incredibly smart interlocutor. And I’m not saying it because I am biased towards Remus, but because the canonical episodes showed us how smart he is. In both DWIT and WTIT Remus proved to be a quick thinker, with a sharp intellect and an even sharper eye. He's silly and over the top, but he's not an idiot and he uses everything he has for his own creative needs, no matter how small it is.

Just imagine this cleverness applied to everything Logan might say to him. Remus wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from it, but the whole creative process and, ultimately, Thomas himself, who will have better, richer ideas.

- Gaining a place

At this moment in time (just after WTIT) Remus has not been fully accepted yet. He is tolerated and his presence is a nuisance, but he’s neither wanted, nor banished. He’s just here and he has no voice on any matter.

Also because no one wants to give him a chance to prove how useful and worthy he can be. Thomas barely tolerates him, Patton does his best to ignore him, Roman doesn’t even want to see him and Virgil would rather not have any of the Others present.

The only Core Side who accepts Remus’ presence and is willing to give him a chance is Logan. He spent the entire DWIT to explain why Remus is useful for Thomas and shouldn’t be ignored, while in WTIT, he said: "There will be a time and place for you" - thus implying that, one day, Remus will finally be able to show how worthy he can be.

This is exactly what Remus needs: a Core Side who doesn’t see him as a nuisance or a villain, but as a fundamental part of Thomas that can be helpful, in his own way. Someone willing to give him a seat at the table (at least in the future). And, most importantly, someone who is powerful enough to control him.

Remus is and will always be a force of nature. He will never rest or stop being chaotic. This is why he needs someone strong by his side, someone who can’t be overcomed by his dark thoughts and that can put him back on track if necessary. And Logan proved to be perfect for this role not once, but twice.

- Understanding on a deeper level

However this cooperation won’t be beneficial just for Remus. As I said before, Remus could be a clever interlocutor for Logan. And this cleverness isn’t just related to creativity, but also to emotional understanding.

The Core Sides have known Logan for almost thirty years and yet, they have no idea of the inner turmoil raging inside him. They keep ignoring and dismissing him, clearly thinking everything is fine.

It took Remus one single day to realize what Logan’s problem is, how deeply frustrated he is and how much he’s actually angry at Thomas. Less than 24 hours and Remus knows Logan better than his long time friends.

That’s exactly what Logan needs. Someone sharp enough to notice his behaviour, find out the root of the problem and make Logan face it, instead of dismissing it because who cares (yes, Roman, I am talking about you and your “You'll be fine, Rome didn't fall in a day.”)

- The romantic possibility

I think almost all the fandom agrees that these two would have a great sex life. After all, Remus is the embodiment of Thomas' sexual urges, so he would definitely go for a very physical relationship.

But having a good sex life implies a lot of other great things: good chemistry, no comunication issues, great stability and greater trust. And, even more important, the desire to try new things together. Logan and Remus are both very curious Sides, they both want to know new things and experience them: so their relationship would probably be based on discussing new ideas, testing them and finding out together if they are good or not.

And this doesn't apply to just the sexual aspect: even just the romantic aspect or the working aspect of their relationship could have these characteristics. Logan and Remus can motivate each other, learn from one another and find new things together. They are clever enough to stimulate each other's mind, curious enough to do stuff together to learn something new and honest enough to not withdraw their opinions on any matter.

______________________________

Roman and Virgil

I am just recently starting to warm up to this couple, so I will keep this part short.

Just as it was for the previous two couples, these two can work together because canon made them work. The first part of their whole relationship is already all canonically established: at first Roman saw Virgil as a villain, then he slowly realized he could be a friend. Now moving from friends to lovers isn’t so difficult.

^ No need to demonstrate

Roman needs someone like Virgil, because Virgil is on his same level. Sure, Virgil’s mentality is way more gray-ish, but he still has a lot to learn, just like Roman.

Having someone on his side, who is on his same level is a huge relief: with Virgil, Roman doesn't have to pretend, nor to show off, nor to be dashing and perfect all the time. He knows Virgil won't care less, so he can relax. And for someone who is used to working all the time, having a moment of quiet with someone who has zero espectations is exactly what Roman needs.

Same goes for Virgil: he knows Roman won't care if he's gloomy and dark, because Roman already saw that side of him and appreciates him anyway. So no need to pretend to be different. He can relax too. And, because of his anxious nature, relaxing is exactly what he also needs.

So if they both need to relax, that implies they also need time to do it. And without expectations, without feeling like the other “is better than me and I’m slowing him down”, they can really take all the time they need, to grow at their own pace.

^ Growing together

Virgil and Roman’s is not a one-sided relationship, in which one knows more than the other and helps the other reach his level: since they are on the same level, if one of them learns something new, then it’s a victory for them both, because the other will be motivated to do more/learn more as well.

This isn’t just something I think, but something we saw in canon. During AA-part 2, Roman clearly stated that Virgil “make us... better”, thus implying that Virgil acted as a motivator for him.

Then we had FWSA and here we saw this sentence applied the other way around: Roman was the motivator and, thanks to him, Virgil overcame his own anxiety to push Thomas towards Nico. The final result was a victory for them both: Roman got the romance he’s desperately craving, Virgil found out a new aspect of himself: his bravery.

^ The romantic possibility

These two are a walking “enemies to friends to lovers” trope, so I don’t think there’s anything else to add XD

Only that they would both be quite passionate. One is Thomas’ romantic side, the other is heavily influenced by emotions: if the good one takes Virgil, he would probably be a very passionate partner.

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Two couples I understand

Janus and Remus -> I understand the appeal of this one and it would kinda make sense, especially from Remus’ point of view. Remus has (probably) sexual fantasies about anything, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he has a whole collection of sexual fantasies about the Side who is closest to him.

But also, I see them too much like father and son/bestest friends to imagine them having a romantic relationship.

So my take is more like that: Remus has sexual fantasies about Janus, just like he has sexual fantasies about anyone. They are his way to show his affection, how much he cares about Janus and wants to protect him.

But Remus is Remus and he's prone to lose control. That's why, since he reached adolescence and started to develop the sexual aspect, Janus put clear limits that give Remus enough space to express his fantasies, but never past a certain point.

So Remus can be very touchy (because, well, he's Remus) and extremely physical in showing his affections, but never go below a certain point. He can talk in full details about all his sexual fantasies to Janus, but never try to sexually force him. He can try to seduce him or propose sexual things, but never pretend he will accept.

And so, over time, it became a sort of internal joke between them: Remus tells his fantasies at the breakfast table, while Janus rolls his eyes with a "very interesting", they have a laugh, they keep going with their day. Remus wants to cuddle, Janus will cuddle. Remus proposes sex, Janus will just laugh and give him a forehead kiss.

In other words, they are the kind of friends who you can find sprawled on a couch, one on top of the other and imagine they're a couple, while that's just how they read a book together.

Logan and Roman -> This couple isn’t bad at all and I really like the idea of these two having a sorta-romantic crush on each other. It can lead to a lot of poetic/romantic possibilities.

The only problem is: Logan is logic, therefore he would destroy all the romance with one sentence XD and the romantic, poetic scene evoked would turn into these two arguing like madmen.

So, well, maybe the hate-sex would be great, but they would definitely spend too much time arguing. Still, I am very curious about it, so I will keep searching for stuff about them.

#sanders sides ships #sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #moceit #intrulogical #prinxiety #and a sprinkle of #dukeceit #logince #I know I have pretty basic tastes #it takes me a lot to warm to a couple #I blame the fandom for making these so appealing #i couldn't help myself

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impalementation · 4 years ago

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spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 4

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

part 3: “Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

“But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

Before I get into seasons six and seven, it’s worth asking: why would the show do all of this? Why would it spend all of this time developing a supporting villain and joke id character? Why would it give him a romantic arc? I see people say that the writers only gave Spike these storylines because he was popular or they wanted to keep him around, but even that being the case, there was no need to give him the specific arc that they did. It’s more than possible to read meaning into the story that they chose from the array of possible options.

Here is the thing about the id. It’s not actually something separate from you. It’s not a ravenous monster you can blame your weaknesses on while remaining pure and dignified. The id is part of you. The immediate and enduring appeal of Spike is, I suspect, strongly influenced by the fact that the things the id wants are so very human and sympathetic. His foibles and mistakes are often painfully familiar, even exaggerated through vampirism as they are. In fact, it’s precisely because Spike is allowed to show a full range of reactions to love, because the writing is under less pressure for him to do the “right” or dignified thing, that he can at times be compelling in ways other characters can’t. If Spike just did nasty things, his appeal wouldn’t be much more complicated than the appeal of Angelus, who people tend to like as a villain or storyline rather than as a relatable character. But Spike doesn’t want to dismember nuns or construct elaborate murder tableaux. He wants familiar things like love, identity and meaning, even if the ways he goes about getting them can reflect people’s worst impulses.

Which brings us to Buffy, and Buffy’s story about growing up. Buffy is Buffy’s show, which means that every writing choice tends to revolve around her arc in one way or another. And this goes for Spike’s storyline even more than most. In the final three seasons of the show, the writing finally engages with how inextricable the id--and all of its impulsive, inarticulate romantic desires--really is from a person’s self. So instead of keeping Spike at a comfortable distance, both Buffy and the writing begin to take him seriously. They begin to invite him in.

Starting in season five, it’s telling how frequently Buffy herself projects on Spike, rather than just the writing setting them up as mirrors. She tells him that he’s the “only one strong enough” to protect her family, and later assigns Dawn specifically to his protection. In “Spiral” she describes him as “the only one besides me that has any chance of protecting Dawn.” This is a very intimate role that she otherwise only assigns to herself (and which is not really based on pure practicality, considering that she’ll later describe Willow as her “big gun”--yet never gives Willow the task of protecting Dawn). She tells him that he cannot love, which is the thing she fears most about herself. Her protests that Spike is a vampire, and thus cannot express or want human things like love, mirror her lamentations that as the Slayer, she cannot have a normal life.

From the Gilliland Gothic double essay:

More than any of her other lovers, Buffy and Spike overlap one another so often that at times their character arcs become nearly indistinguishable. With Angel, Buffy traveled a parallel path in attempting to master self-control. With Riley, her journey ultimately took her in the opposite direction. With Spike, Buffy’s journey is most closely shadowed, in that her interactions with him in many ways can be seen as metaphors for her feelings about herself.

So now Spike is multiple things. On the one hand, he’s the soulless id he’s been since season two. His vampiric behavior represents a morally uninhibited way of reacting to romantic frustrations, among other things. But on the other hand, his vampirism now also marks him as like Buffy, not merely her opposite.* Nor is he only her mirror in the realm of romantic love. The part of him that is a vampire is the part of him that is supernatural (ie, Romantically larger-than-life), that sets him apart from regular people, and dictates how he can and cannot behave. Just like Buffy’s slayerness. His vampirism is what makes him capable of protecting Dawn, while also making him (supposedly, according to Buffy) incapable of human feeling--again, just like Buffy’s slayerness. Instead of Buffy’s Slayer side being aligned with Angelus, who was an unmitigated evil, it becomes aligned with Spike, who is something more complicated.

*(Though it must be noted that this was a process that began in season four, with the show aligning Spike with the Scoobies by making him a victim of the Initiative. Spike being supernatural suddenly marks him as non-normative, just like the Scoobies, in contrast to the institutional conformity that the Initiative represents. The evolution towards treating the Romantic supernatural as something positive and associated with identity plays a key role in transitioning the show to the more complicated attitudes of the last three seasons.)

This shift in the show’s attitudes towards the id affects how Spike is used. In “Blood Ties” for example, Spike assists Dawn in breaking into the Magic Shop and in “Forever” he helps Dawn resurrect her and Buffy’s mother. In both cases, Spike could be read as embodying impulsive behavior that Buffy is supposed to be better than. Yet both cases specifically involve Spike helping Dawn, who is repeatedly portrayed as Buffy’s human side. As Buffy says in “The Gift”: “[Dawn]’s more than [my sister]. She’s me. The monks made her out of me. [...] Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I--”. In other words, Buffy’s id becomes closely tied to her humanity, even going so far as to become its safeguard. “Blood Ties” ends with Buffy affirming her connection to Dawn, which Spike’s rule-breaking directly enabled, and “Forever” ends with Buffy acknowledging how desperately she wants her mother back too, and becoming closer to Dawn as a result. (Compare to “Lovers Walk”, where Buffy acknowledging her id results in her breaking away from Angel, not drawing closer to anyone). Or in “Intervention”, Spike building the Buffybot directly parallels Buffy’s own anxieties about what she thinks she should be. She thinks she’s losing her ability to love, and that effusive fakery is her only recourse (as she said in “I Was Made to Love You”: “Maybe I could change. [...] I could spend less time slaying, I could laugh at his jokes. I mean men like that right? The joke laughing at?”), a fear that even has some merit, given that her friends cannot tell her and the bot apart. Instead of Buffy and Spike having separate arcs in the episode, Spike learning the difference between real and fake dovetails with Buffy’s own relationship to her realness and fakeness. It turns out that neither of them want a bot version of Buffy. They want real emotion, things like sacrifice and heartfelt gratitude. If even Buffy’s id would let itself be killed for Dawn, then maybe she has nothing to fear from herself. Maybe there is some beauty in the emotional part of her nature that she thinks she must repress.

In other words, part of the writing (and Buffy) fully engaging with romanticism and the id, means engaging with the ways they can be bad and good. There’s this weird thing that happens with Spike as soon as he falls in love with Buffy, where suddenly his actions are more uncomfortable, and to many, off-putting, because their object is Buffy (instead of another vampire like Harmony or Drusilla, who either enjoy the same vampiric things he does, or the audience might be inclined to see as a moral nonentity regardless). His comic id quality becomes somewhat darker and more serious, almost like the way Angel’s early season two darkness becomes more serious after he loses his soul. But at the same time, Spike’s actions are also more intriguing, sympathetic, and even noble...because their object is Buffy. It makes no sense that a soulless vampire should not only fall in love with the Slayer, but genuinely attempt to transform himself into someone worthy of her love. And yet that’s exactly what Buffy inspires him to do. By loving Buffy Spike’s dual nature, and the dual nature of his romanticism, is thrown into relief: it’s something that can be selfish and creepy, yes, but also something that hints at the idea that real romanticism does exist. Something worth feeling romantically about does exist. Thus the writing can at once criticize, say, the way the chivalric mindset conflates love and suffering, while also suggesting that there are kinds of love it’s worth being transformed by. (Meanwhile, Spike’s fumbling bewilderment over how to love Buffy, and what the rules of loving people correctly even are, creates a human middle ground between monstrousness and heroism). By leaning into the way that Buffy and Spike have been used as mirrors for three seasons, and introducing the mythology-bending idea of Spike being in love with Buffy, the writing is able to fully engage with this complicated, contradictory nature of love and romance.

All of which is to say. Spike becomes a potential love interest, and is given a convoluted inner conflict between monstrousness, humanity and heroism, in precisely the season in which Buffy begins to reckon with her own inner conflict between her darker impulses, her human reality, and her supernatural role. It’s no coincidence that season five opens with Dracula, an icon of romantic vampire mythology, tempting Buffy with darkness and promising her insight into her nature. Or that a vampire kidnaps Dawn--again, her human half--in the next episode. Or that the season’s antagonist is a super-strong blonde woman who wants to destroy Dawn instead of protect her. Or that she says goodbye to Riley, the boyfriend who embodied her hopes for a more normative way of being (notice how Riley is progressively destabilized by everything non-normative about Buffy’s life, and provokes those anxieties Buffy expresses in “I Was Made to Love You”). Over and over in season five, Buffy fears that her Slayer half is cold, destructive, and otherwise dangerous. That these Romantic things like gods and vampires have it in for Buffy’s vulnerable humanity. Yet Buffy’s vampire id simultaneously gives lie to these fears by proving itself capable of heroism and genuine human feeling.

In other words, Spike becomes a potential love interest in a season that treats the Romantic--ie the grand and mythical--as something more than just an attractive lie to be disabused of. Rather, the question that season five seems to posit to me, and which will not be fully answered until the end of season seven, is this: once you do clear away the attractive lies, once you accept the hard realities, once you’ve seen the darkest underbellies, what are the things that are left that are truly grand and beautiful? What are the stories that are really worth telling, and the heroes that are really worth having?

And the show asks and answers these questions on both a very personal level, and a more meta, systemic level. On the personal level, Buffy and Spike are forced to confront their illusions not just about the world, but about themselves. They are made to ask themselves what constitutes a heroic role or a demonic weakness, versus basic, unromantic humanity. And on the meta level, the show asks questions about our expectations for how both love stories and chosen hero stories are supposed to go.

part 5: “Everything used to be so clear”: Season six and the agony of the real

#romanticism series #gen #s5 #buffy #spike #riley #btvs

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girlbossgertrude · 4 years ago

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10 REASONS AGNES MONTAGUE IS THE TAPES (formal long vers)

Through Gertrude and Agnes’s web bond, it is implied that the two both acquired traits of the other. We see this with Gertrude and her tendency towards fire and the Desolation. This would have to be mirrored in Agnes in some way, through beholding tendency and power. Though I do not think the tapes are of the Beholding, I think this fact is important to remember.

In MAG 162, the tapes that mysteriously came with the package that held the ritual statement both mention fire in the archives/burning down the archives. See here: “TIM: I mean it! We’ll burn this place to the ground!” and the whole scene with Gertrude getting angry at Gerry for burning cursed leighters in the archives. And, as I write this, I realize that fire is also mentioned in another extra tape in early season five (MAG 161); Jon yells at Tim for bringing a fire source in the archives in the Birthday Party scene! (ARCHIVIST: Alright, yes - thank you. I do hope you’re planning not to light those candles.) And, also in 161, Gertrude is literally planning down to burn down the archives and talks of fire, and her pyromaniac streak, caused by her bond to Agnes. (GERTRUDE: Paper burns well,...Petrol burns better. LEITNER: I always forget your pyromaniac streak. GERTRUDE: Mm. Remind me to tell you about Agnes sometime.)

In MAG 80, Leitner talks to the tapes like a specific person right before he gets killed. There is no one else in the room with him. “[SILENCE] LEITNER: I’m not sure you would have liked him, you know. He’s paranoid enough. But I don’t think he’s got the stomach for it [SILENCE].” Most assume he’s talking to Gertrude (I did), but that really doesn't make sense in the context of most tapes theories ™ . Gertrude is very much dead. Basically, it’s possible that he could be talking to Agnes here, especially in the context of the next point-

“REMIND ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT AGNES SOMETIME.” This line from MAG 161 has so much potential for foreshadowing. It could mean so very many things. But in this context, this implies Gertrude could have told him about Agnes listening behind the tapes? Though this doesn’t make sense in some possibilities of how Agnes is the tapes, it is important to note.

Agnes is very marked by the web and the tapes being associated with the web is highly, highly plausible. She has been affected and tied up in the web since birth! She burned spider webs in Jack Barnabus’s home, and obviously, she was anchored to Gertrude through the web’s ties for years, as well as living in Hill Top Road, AKA Web Supreme. Additionally, she’s killed multiple web avatars: Raymond Fielding, and Emma Harvey. Agnes is interconnected to Hill Top Road, and the crew is there right now, its incredibly plausible that she’s going to come up again. She already did, actually. It is mentioned in the 196 statement that Agnes was the one who opened up the dimensional rift incidentally- from burning down HTR, it caused the crack to open more. ([Raymond Fielding was] “immolated by the Chosen of the Ravening Burn. The house of the time was destroyed along with him, reduced to ashes, and with that the crack finally became… a gap. A hole around which time, dimension and reality began to bend, shudder and leak.”) This feels important.

Agnes Montague supposedly died in 2006, and then in MAG 139, which is taken sometime in 2006, Eugene Vanderstock tells Gertrude that Agnes has died, but- then in 2009-2011, Agnes and Gertrude met up, sometime after Sannikov Land to discuss the subsequent murder agaisnt Emma Harvey. So, she came back from the dead. Or, it’s a classic timeline mistake and I’m insane, of course. Two things that are important to note here: 1. It is important to remember that most desolation avatars had to “die” to become an avatar (I.E.: Jude setting herself on fire in front of her wife to become a avatar) while Agnes had been a true avatar from the get-go, so that could have been her “first death” like the others. 2. In some patreon extended version of the season 3 Q+A, Jonny Sims, when asked about timeline mistakes, says there is a “nexus of timeline discrepancies that is [a part of my] master plan.”

The recording of Gertrude’s death was one of, if not the first recorded times a tape turned on. That’s it, I just feel like that’s important.

The tapes are increasingly being confirmed as web, though so far it seems like web AND something else. “MARTIN: Wait. Wait… The tapes… ANNABELLE: A fine material to spin a web with, don't you think?” I think this confirms that the tapes are at least partly web, though what makes me think that they aren't fully web is what the two say after; Martin asks if it’s been Annabelle listening all along, and she says “Oh Martin. You have no idea who's listening, do you?” I know most choose to interpret this as wholly a fourth-wall break, and an implication that the tapes are us, the audience, but I am choosing to interpret it differently. I think, at times, there can be a character that acts as the audience, says what everyone's thinking and all that. I think that’s happened a lot in this podcast, and I think when Annabelle said that, I interpreted Martin as the audience here, and that Annabelle was telling us “Lol. You guys have NO idea who’s listening behind the tapes!” not that like. She was telling Martin you have no idea who's listening *points to us, the listeners, who are listening*. Also! I think it’s important to note that Annabelle said “who” and not “what”? I don’t know, I feel like that’s important for some reason, in a podcast of weird entities.

A new possibility: Agnes (or someone else but that's not what this post is about) communicating through previously recorded tapes, but being able to get her message across through them. What I mean is that at the end of 196, three different tapes click on, of Jon telling Martin specifically to listen. Someone could be manipulating the tapes to do this. I personally think Agnes doing this fits with her story well; as we’ve only ever heard her story told by other people, and additionally, the overarching theme of not choosing what she is, what she's becoming. Additionally, I feel like it is definitely a possibility that Gertrude could have bond Agnes to the tapes as she has a history of doing things like that, or their web bond could have caused it, as well.

The parallels between Jon and Agnes are incredibly obvious. One line parallel that stands out to me is Agnes to Jack Barnabus in MAG 67 Burning Desire: “She asked me if I had a destiny…[after he replies no] She looked at me, with the same sadness I’d seen on her face before. “That must be nice,” she said, and went back to staring into the sunset.” juxtaposed with Jon talking to Gerry in MAG 111 Family Business: “Sh-She never showed any...er, abilities, or talked about...I don’t know, destiny? Like she was...b-becoming something?” Truly, at the end of the day, Neither of them chose this life for themselves. Neither of them wanted to be Chosen, neither of them chose this life like other avatars did (ex: Jonah Magnus, Jude Perry). They could relate to each other, is what I’m saying. And Jon desperately needs someone to relate to right now. Additionally, the talk of burning down the archive throughout the seasons, specifically season five (see reason 2), and Jonah at one point calling the Archivist/Jon the “Archive” does not slip my mind.

#this is so long sorry i don’t know how to do the keep reading thing #sorry that i won’t shut up abt this theory on all platforms </3 #the magnus archives #magpod #tma #jonathan sims #agnes montague #tma spoilers #mag 196

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

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Strike! (Jaehyun x reader)

a/n : okaay soo this was almost from a real story :)) i twisted and improvised something that happened to me :p not important though, but please enjoy this scenario!

warning : none, i think this is save for everyone.. except if you have bad memories with bowling...

characters : you, Jae, and his friends (Yu,Tae,Johnny)

tagging @yutahoes (since she knew what happened) and @neopalette anyone else wants to be tagged in my works tell me :)

enjoy!!

Spring is happening, the flowers are blooming, and the sun has been staying up longer! Everyone’s toasting under the heat and hoping that summer can just come now. You personally enjoy the heat rather than shivering in the cold winter wind. It’s just that you don’t really have anyone to enjoy this beautiful weather with. Just like any other day, you got down from your room to look for dinner. The sun is still up and you choose to just use one of your jacket and plop into your shoes before locking the door and walking nicely to look for food.

You turn on your earphone, playing on some light music so you feel less lonely. It’s just that you have friends but today you don’t feel like eating with them. You’ve been to two classes today and worked on some homework, you noticed it’s time for a “me time”. So, with the sun shining warmly and you enjoying your afternoon walk you smile when you notice how many couples are walking around the campus.

You’re jealous, you wont lie. Come on, who’s not jealous to see cute happy couples walking under the sun and with the blooming flowers things just look like a scene from a movie. You personally slow down to think of which dining hall to visit today. You choose to go to the west side and see what menu they offer.

You don’t see much student there which make you settle quickly on pasta and have them wrap it up to go. Now, with your boxed food, you walk happily to go back to your room only to pause when there’s a sport car filled with hot guys zooming through you.

You notice a lot of people have their eyes glued on the car, or maybe the guys in it. You don’t know them, but one of them seriously looks cute. You locked eyes for a second and you swore you love him at first sight.

“Woah, last time there were girls zooming around in their opened-cabriole cars and now guys too. Guess summer is really near.” You shrug your shoulder and continue to walk.

You pass by the car again but this time it is parked and the four guys are just chilling around their cars. Sipping on some cold energy drinks while giggling and tossing light smiles to the people passing by.

“Who are you looking at young boy?” The man behind the wheels earlier nudges the boy who has his eyes glued on you.

“Um no one-“ he stammers before turning away to look at his feet and feeling his ears burn.

“Oh I see, some freshman I guess-“ the guy with a Japanese accent teases the younger boy.

“Where? I wanna see too!” the smallest one between the three extends his neck to look around.

Their actions bring the crowd’s attention, and you realize you should keep walking. Why were you stopping in first place?

So, without much thought you continue to walk down your road while humming to your music.

“Stop staring,” the guy who’s looking at his feet finally speaks up.

“Why Jaehyun? You’re shy?” The tallest, Johnny aka guy behind wheel, pokes his cheek.

Jaehyun turns red “Nah, I don’t know her. She just passed by and I locked eyes with her.”

“Don’t worry, if Yuta saw her he will know her name.” Taeyong puts a hand over Yuta’s shoulder “Right Yuta?” he asks to clarify his statement.

Yuta nods “If only you justified if that was the girl you’re staring, I may have her name tomorrow.” Yuta plays with his phone.

Jaehyun sighs “Come on, this school is big… there’s no way you’ll get her name.” he hugs his three friends’ shoulders and sighs “Guess that will be the first and last time I see her.”

Johnny clicks his tongue “So dramatic. Duhh, I know how to see her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen “How?”

Taeyong giggles “She went that way, there’s only three houses there. We can just hang around there and see her if she goes out of her building. It’s that simple Jae, don’t be so sad.” Taeyong pats his shoulder and jumps into the car.

“Come on, we have a bowling match tomorrow might want to practice a little bit before the game.” Taeyong calls his other friends into the car and once they’re all in, Johnny hits the road again with high speed to show off his car and the guys inside.

You finish your dinner and clean up your room already. In an hour or two, you’ll wrap up your task and readings then maybe take a rest because tomorrow is a big day. You got more classes to suffer and some dance class to attend.

Your mind flashes back the image of the cute guy seating in the back seat of the sports car earlier. His dimple, his carefree smile and his fluffy wind-blown hair looks perfect. Oh you really wish you can see him one more time.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in your major, man like him probably is an athlete or studies something related to business or sports.

“Come on come to your senses (y/n)! What are the odds he meet you again? Even if he sees you, he won’t notice or realize you’re there.” You try to burry your hope by reminding yourself boys like him belong to the pretty girls with long legs. Unlike you, totally you’re way out of his league.

That night you dream of a fortunate encounter with the mysterious guy and he gives you his name. Weird how you cannot remember his name at all when you wake up, but the day is running and you need to wake up and face reality. He is a prince charming and you’re no Cinderella.

“I told you, I can get her name by today.” Yuta proudly shows Jaehyun and the guys an Instagram profile.

“Wait whoah you really did.” Taeyong says after examining the profile picture because of the private account.

“How did you?” Jaehyun stops asking when his eyes accidentally spot you coming into the room.

“Am I seeing things or is she really here?” Jaehyun whispers to his friends and Johnny gives him a smack “Hurts? It’s real. I see her too.”

Yuta chuckles “Come on, I see her walking to this place and thought maybe she’s here this afternoon. So, I made a quick run through the participant list and look up one by one.”

“Thank you- but oh I am so fortunate to see her again.” Jaehyun is literally having his moment. If this is a drama he’d have romantic bgm and flower petals falling out of nowhere. But this is the bowling room in the campus and it’s far from romantic. Especially when the judge calls for the competitor to get ready.

“Good luck there bro, focus on the game not on the girl.” His friends tease him before leaving to sit in the spectator seat.

You tie your bowling shoes and pick out your own ball. Polishing it and feeling it with your hand before bumping into someone’s sturdy chest.

“Oh- sorry.” You mutter an apology before looking up and freezing in place when you lock eyes with the same man you’ve been dying to see again.

“You-“ he turns pink.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump you. Please don’t kill me.” You beg for him

He chuckles “I will not kill you, but if you want my apology…” he trails off and bends a little bit to see your face closer “Give me your name.”

You turn red now and you feel your face heat up “It’s (y/n)”

He smiles and reaches out his hand “Jaehyun, nice to meet you (y/n)” he shakes your hand and you grin. This is awkward…

“I saw you yesterday on the car. Nice car.” You whisper after both of you sit down to wait for your turns.

Jaehyun nods “Wasn’t my car sadly, but it’s my friend’s.” he points to the three guys enjoying pizza on the spectator bench. You only nod, his friends all look hot.

“So, bowling eh? Good at it?” you ask him when it’s almost his turn. Jaehyun stands up and wears his bowling glove “Good? I just pick this up as a new hobby and I join this to look for new friends.” He gets up to his lane and picks his ball before posing nicely and hits a strike.

You smirk, not bad. He has some talent.

Jaehyun returns after his turn is over and it’s yours now.

“What about you?” he asks

You sweetly smile “Watch and see,”

Jaehyhun notices how you change. Your posture is different, and your gaze definitely burns hole to the wall. He secretly has to control his heartbeat from going up when he sees you hit a strike.

You’re not a newbie, he notices that

“Great posture, accurate and precise.” Jaehyun offers a high-five and you take it.

“Well, thank you that came from years of practice. Pleasure to be your competitor tonight, I am (y/n) the school’s official bowling team leader.” You wink and Jaehyun feels his heart burst into million pieces.

How can you be so cute and so attractive at the same time? Plus what, you’re the bowling athlete team? Hot.

He sure is going to brag on you to his friends, but most importantly he’ll win your number first after the hot tight match. He’s glad Johnny forced him to sign up for this competition, and he’s glad he has the courage to talk with you.

“So, nice game and you’re really good.” Jaehyun nudges your shoulder when the game ends with you winning.

You grin “Oh yeah? Well, what do I get for winning?” you playfully tease him.

He knits his eyebrow for a while before grinning “Do you want my number? We can have lunch together or dinner someday.” He offers you his suggestion and you feel your cheek burns.

“Sure, yes I’d love that.” You gulp and type in your number to his phone.

“Okay, I’ll text you my number so you can save it.” He winks and turns his head around when his friends call him

“I got to go, do you want to go back to your dorm with us?” he offers you a ride but as much as you want to, you know not to accept rides from stranger easily.

You shake your head “I will go with them,” you point to a new group of friends living in the same building you just met earlier.

Jaehyun nods coolly “Okay, text me when you got home.” He points to your phone that lights up with a message from him.

You smile and wave your hand as you walk to the other friends “Bye Jaehyun! It was nice meeting you.”

Turns out yesterday was not the first and last time he sees you.

end

#multifandomnet #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun oneshot #nct oneshot #nct fluff #nct flirt line #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun college au #nct college au #nct x reader #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x you

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nagitoandkokichioneshots · 4 years ago

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Dance with me - Komaeda x Reader

Hey all, Peko here! Just a little thing i wrote about dancing with Komaeda on the beach. Not heaps of substance here or anything, i’ve just been a little stressed lately and wanted to write something cute and fluffy! I hope you enjoy it! ☆〜 Mod Peko

Contains: gn reader, canon murder mention, post killing game, alcohol (only a little)

There is something deeply morbid about Togami’s decision to host a party in the same building he was murdered in. With the rest of the islands inaccessible until Souda manages to get a boat fixed, there aren’t many other venues available, but this fact doesn’t make standing in the old building any less uncomfortable.

Everyone is doing their best to keep the mood light, but anytime the air conditioner beeps the room turns icy. The table in the back right of the room has been disassembled and thrown into the dumpster behind the Rocketpunch Market, and despite the inconvenience, Hanamura decided to cook all of the food in the dining hall and cart it over instead of stepping back into the old kitchen.

While he has been trying to have a good time, you caught Hinata bending down and checking under all of the tables before everyone had arrived. Since leaving the simulation, he had almost unintentionally asserted himself as the leader of the group. Shoulders square, back stiff, you can tell he hasn’t been sleeping.

You are standing by the wall, sipping absentmindedly on a gin and tonic with too much gin. It’s bitter. There’s a spot on the wall across from you that you can’t pull your eyes from, a spot that in a different reality was inhabited by Nagito Komaeda. Half a foot to the right of a powerpoint, nothing is plugged into it.

Komaeda is not at the party. He’s the only one who isn’t.

You down the rest of your drink and make your way over to the door, resting your empty glass on the nearest flat surface. Koizumi grabs you by the wrist before you can escape, her brows are drawn, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You pause, “I just don’t like parties.”

That is partly true, Mioda’s playlist is very loud and you get headaches easily.

Koizumi sighs, “I know that it’s not simple, getting back to normal after everything that happened.” She rests a hand on your shoulder, “You can tell us if something is wrong.”

Your eyes flit over to the Komaeda shaped absence on the wall, “I’m going to find Komaeda.”

“Oh?” Koizumi says, eyebrows jumping up, “Well...good luck.” She steps to the side and gestures for you to continue through the door, “It’ll be nice if you can convince him to come.”

You smile, “I’ll try.”

The real island is a lot warmer than the digital one was. Even at night you can feel the warmth of the absent sun seeping up through the pavement, it’s kind of weird being out this late. You had been so used to cowering inside your cabin the second the sun went down, but now things were safe. They were still awkward and messy, but they were safe.

It doesn’t take you long to find Komaeda. He’s out on the beach, jacket laid out on the ground as he lays back on it and stares up at the stars. He turns his head when he hears you coming, it’s hard to be quiet on the sand.

“Oh, hello.” He says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to come by here. I hope I didn’t ruin your walk.”

You join him on the sand, curling your arms around your knees and looking out at the ocean, “I came to find you. You didn’t ruin anything.”

“Does Hinata need me for something?”

“No...I just…” you sigh and bury your head in your knees, “I just wanted to check that you were okay…”

Komaeda laughs, tucking his arms behind his head. He looks beautiful in the moonlight, “Aha, that’s very kind of you, but there’s no reason to worry about me.”

“Yeah, well...I worry anyway.”

The sound of the waves crashing is only slightly louder than the sound of the music from the party. The hotel is quite a ways away, but Mioda likes her music loud. Komaeda is still staring up at the sky, face neutral as he watches the stars, the light of the moon cross his pale face. You feel your stomach twisting.

Komaeda died before you could tell him you were in love with him.

You turn from the ocean to watch the rise and fall of his chest, being given a second chance is both a blessing and a curse. Without the impending doom of the killing game, you are even less inclined to rush things, but the buzz of five gin and tonics is making your hands shake. You almost feel like you’re going to throw up when your mouth opens and you say, “you wanna dance?”

Komaeda turns to you, “hm?”

“I uh...I asked if you wanted to dance?”

He blinks, his eyelashes are very pretty, “Oh. Why would you want to dance with me?” He rolls onto his side to face you more easily, his hair is a perfect mess, “I’ve never tried before, I suspect I’ll be terrible at it.”

You shrug, “it’s a party. Dancing is what you do at parties, right?”

The sand shifts beneath your feet as you pull yourself up, you hold your hand out, worried that it might be sweaty, “I haven’t really danced before either. We can figure it out together.”

His hand is...hesitant, as it reaches out to grab yours. You smile and gently tug him up from the ground, he sways like a palm tree in the breeze. Your heart is racing.

“So…” He starts, laughing a little to himself, “What do we do?”

You swallow, “Oh...well...I think you put one hand here-” you tug one of his hands down to the curve of your waist. Sucking in a breath at the warmth of his palm, “-and uh...i put a hand here-” you reach up and rest your hand on his shoulder, “and then we just...you know…” you take his other hand in yours and hold it up, gently swaying.

(If you weren't so focussed on Komaeda. You might have noticed Mioda’s playlist has shifted to something softer, more romantic. Entirely out of character, and incredibly lucky.)

The steps are awkward, and entirely unpracticed, but it feels nice. The ocean air is cool on your skin, and Komaeda is warm. He’s staring down at you intently, trying his best to follow your poor imitation of a waltz. He smiles, “Are you sure you aren't the ultimate dancer?”

You laugh, “Very. You’re just lucky I haven't stepped on your toes.”

Komaeda grins, “Extremely lucky.”

The two of you continue swaying in silence for a while longer. Komaeda has a moment of boldness where he lifts up his arm and coaxes you into a spin, all you can do is smile.

“Why didn't you come to the party?” You ask, looping your arm around the back of his neck, “It was...weird not having you there.”

He hums, brow drawing in thought, “It was fairly clear nobody wanted me to come. I didn't want to be a nuisance.”

“Well, i wanted you to come. So did Koizumi.” You sigh, “You’re one of us, Komaeda. It isn’t the same without you.”

Komaeda smiles sadly, averting his eyes, you can feel his confidence in the dance dropping, “I may have been a member of your class, and of the remnants of despair, but I still can't hold a candle to the hope inside any of you.”

He is so close to you now, you can feel his chest rising and falling. You can count his eyelashes. It’s impossible to breathe, “Hey...um…”

“Yes?”

You readjust the grip of your hands, slipping your fingers between his, you can see his throat bob. Your heart is racing, “I think you are just as important as the rest of us, that you belong with the rest of us.” you smile up at him, feeling your cheeks turning pink, “and I like dancing with you.”

“I’m not sure why.” He replies, eyes cast downward.

You laugh gently, feeling bolder as you lean in and rest your head on his chest. He smells like fresh laundry and jasmine. You can hear his heartbeat quicken, but yours is even faster, “because I like you.”

He stops moving, the dance pauses mid step. His hands are shaking.

You raise your head to meet his eyes, your hand slowly tangling in his hair. His arm slowly curling around your waist, “what’s happening…?” He whispers, you can feel his breath on your face.

“I think we’re going to kiss.” You swallow, “I mean...if you want to.”

“I...of course I want to.” His hand releases yours, lifting up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip, “but you’re so amazing, I don’t understand why you-“

He’s cut off, you grab the front of his shirt and tug his lips down to yours before he can continue into a self-deprecating spiral. For a moment he is frozen still, but your heart warms like butter when he moans into your mouth and kisses you back in earnest. His hand burying into your hair. He feels perfect.

He’s breathing heavy when you pull away, pressing his forehead against yours, “you...love me?”

You smile, warm tears rolling down your cheeks, “yes, I have for a long time.”

Komaeda laughs, but it almost sounds like a sob, “I’ve...I’ve always wanted someone to love me...I didn’t think...I couldn’t…”

“Shh.” You whisper, standing up on your toes to kiss his temple, “do you want to go back to the party?”

He smiles and links his fingers with yours again, “Can we stay like this a little bit longer?”

You can't help but grin as you slip back into the abandoned dance, spinning and twirling, slowly and messily. You press your lips to his, “As long as you want to.”

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #nagito komaeda #mod peko #Mod Peko Pekoyama #peko writes

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damedamedame · 5 years ago

Note

okay, i’m back, sorry i can’t get enough- can i request headcannons of teru, tsukasa and akane walking in to their s/o in the corner of the room sniffling, and instantly thought someone or something hurt them, and was bout to throw sum hands? But in reality they were just crying over a really sad fanfic. you don’t have to accept if you a lot of request alr doe, but thanks if you did 💞 :3

VARIOUS X READER HEADCANONS - REQUEST

“For Real?”

NOTES: ayyy you’re back :00 !! thanks for requesting againnn by the way my inbox is like a fuckin desert so no worries :333

P.S. - i don’t accept tsukasa usually but like,, special exception :3???

-> TERU MINAMOTO

As the President’s girlfriend, you are allowed full access to the Student Council Room much to Akane’s dismay.

You know what?? Akane’s gonna get kicked out again if says anything :DD

But he doesn’t really mind you.

In fact: you mind him.

*stressed (Y/N) noises as he continues to gush about Aoi*

Anyone who says ‘Hey, you can’t go in there!’ because you’re not a part of the student council shall be ignored :’)))

Teru’s got his eyes on everyone lmaoo

did i just make him sound like a yandere?? n-nah

ANYWAYSSSS 👏👏👏

You use the Student Council Room for *ehem* r e a s o n s. No, you definitely don’t use the room to read fanfictions and visual novels. Nope. Not at all.

But you actually do >:333

You’re inside that very room right now, tapping away at your phone to keep reading the next passages of the oNE OF THE SADDEST VISUAL NOVELS YOU’VE EVER SEEN—

saeyoung choi, anyone?

Then comes in Teru.

PLEASE CUE TERU BLINKING SEVERAL TIMES AND FROZEN IN PLACE AFTER SEEING THE TEARS JUST RUNNING DOWN YOUR CHEEKS

Nonono, Teru never wanted to see you cry about anything ever !! :((

He’ll do everything in his power, a whole dang lot of power in his hands, to keep seeing that smile of yours.

Frantic, he rushes over to you and kind of just,, pats your head as you sniffle and sob as you watch the screen.

He’s only ever had to deal with Tiara’s tantrums and guilt over having to scold Kou, okay??? What?? Is he gonna cradle you until you fall asleep?? Is he gonna ban you from seeing Hanako even if you can’t see him??? WHAT DOES HE D O—

Observational skills on point as always, he sees a someone on your screen, and heart wrenching words if he only knew the context behind it.

“...Why are you crying, (Y/N)?”

“HE ALMOST DIED TERU I COULD HAVE GOTTEN THE BAD ENDING AND I—“

Teru just. small smile and eyes shut, if you get my drift.

He’s lowkey confused for about a few seconds until he connects the dots with his,

b i g b r a i n ✨

You were only reading a visual novel. You just told him that you almost had a bad ending. That guy on your screen said those words. You were crying because of a fictional character??

Huh. Maybe he should pick up one of these novels and read them with you,,, if he had the time to squeeze it in his schedule— oh who am i kidding, he’ll squeeze in time to be with you no matter what.

“Should I contact the developer...?”

“tERU NO—“

-> TSUKASA

Damn rat might kill anyone who makes you cry smh smh.

I mean... business, am I right???

OKAY I’LL STOP—

You’re one of the ✨ School Mysteries ✨

How did you die? Well, let’s just say there was a truck, a phone and an unfortunate incident that’s been talked about through hushed whispers and murmurs.

Speaking of phone, dang thing’s still stuck on your hand for like,,, ages. Not that you care very much. At least the afterlife gave you some entertainment :’)))

You’re with Tsukasa for whatever reason— Once he showed up inside of your Boundary, he just clinged to you ever since. He’s cute, you admit, if you look past the terror he’s done to spirits.

Tsukasa has never granted your wish. You didn’t have one, really, but you still didn’t understand why the pesky ghost didn’t ask terrorized for one. Despite that being his job. And why he’s here. But like— whatever lol.

What he DOES do is ask you to never leave his side. What you didn’t know was that Tsukasa never granted or asked for your wish because he didn’t want you to leave him once it’s done ala horrific.

i—i forgot my point here bUT ANYWAY MOVING ON DJDBDB WHEW LONG INTRO

You’re in your Boundary, the endless hallway, and chlllin while scrolling through your phone for fanfiction to read while you’re dead. The usual. Yep, this is pretty much why you died but lmao you’re just,,, doing it again.

gentle reminder for anyone reading to not use your phone while walking across streets >:000 i care about your safety guys !!

Now where was I? oH yes.

You find a particular fic about your favorite pairing from when you were alive. It still is. Fluff, they said, it’s only fluff... It was not fluff. IT WAS A REALLY FLUFFY ONE UNTIL IT WAS NOT :(((

Tsukasa, who left for personal business, returned to see you bawling and rolling down on the ground and clutching your phone tightly.

“(Y/N)??? Is that a new exercise you’re doing???”

“nO >:((((“

He sits down cross-legged next to you, curious eyes landing on your body still rolling around because of that OnE LiNe. Most likely pokes you until you stop and pay attention to him.

You pout, ‘So cute <33’ He ponders upon before smiling far too widely at you like dude why you gotta smile like that it’s creeping me out.

Hesitantly, you showed him the screen, hoping he’d understand how much distress you have at this moment.

He did not.

“AHA! (Y/N)’S CRYING BECAUSE OF A SAD STORY!” He says with the widest fuc ki n grin.

You take back the phone, blushing immensely out of embarrassment for showing him the pic and him l a u g h i n g at you.

Eventually, Tsukasa stops. He softly tells commands you to look at him. Very very carefully, you take a quick look.

Then he pinches both your cheeks as hard as he can, slight blush on his face.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N)! I’ll make sure no one else makes you cry like this.”

-> AKANE AOI

Oh boy.

Looking at the clock on the wall, then over to the piles of notes laying about on the table, you wonder where the fuck your boyfriend could be.

It was quiet, too quiet for your own liking. Everyone else had gone back to their homes or went out with friends.

And you??? You’re here.

Waiting for Akane since the beginning of time.

omg time pun

Inside the library.

IT’S REVISION DAY DAMN IT— PLUS YOU HAD A TEST TOMORROW AND AKANE JUST SAID HE’D TUTOR YOU ABOUT IT HDBDHE

You look down on the notes you made, words barely of any interest for you, and put it down on the table. “A little quick peek.” You say as your hand shuffles for your phone in your bag.

When you DID find it, you frowned. No new texts from Akane. Awfully strange, since he’d text you 23/7 prayer circle punishment break

Then you see a notification pop up... then you find out your oh-so-loved fic has finally updated after a week of waiting. Patience running thin, you decide to read the ol’ thing.

Bad idea.

You couldn’t stop reading after a long long while. The words simple captivated your mind as of a puppeteer controlling one’s puppet. Besides, Akane was bending the rules, so why can’t you???

Speaking of time boy,

AKANE WAS HURRYINGLY DASHING TOWARDS THE LIBRARY IN S P E E D.

Teru had pushed off all his paperwork on him because he felt an eerie feeling about an apparition hanging nearby.

“The least you could do, Aoi.” He says, flashing a bright smile and leaving Akane alone in the room. HE HATES THAT GUY >:(((

Everyone around him gave him weird looks, but were already used to his old Aoi shenanigans. So they all turned a blind eye.

SUDDENLY THE DOOR SLAMS OPEN :0 !!!!

AND HE ENTERS, PANTING, AND SEES YOU.

Initially, he’s glad to see you waiting for up for him. BUT THENNN HE SEES YOU SOBBING.

“(Y/N), did I really take that long???”

“N-No, I-I’m not—“

Your eyes are obviously puffing up from the amount of tears you shed after reading a 5000-word update.

Somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to show the phone to him.

Akane’s real concerned, to the point where he’d gladly use his time-freezing skills just to check if no one was bullying you through your phone.

And after many MANY attempts to get your phone, he did it.

He stopped time. Just to see what’s on there.

Of course, he had to know what exactly made his love so sad and read the whole thing in like,, under a minute— boy’s got mad reading skills i tell you.

Finally! Time! Comes! Back! AND YOU STARE IN HORROR AS YOU SEE AKANE HOLDING AND READING WHAT’S ON YOUR PHONE

Your exact thoughts rn: s c r e e e e eEREE

Akane looks at you, a chuckle hiding behind his lips. The thoughts of you crying lingering in his mind now replaced themselves with how cute your flustered face is right now.

“Did you really cry because of this, (Y/N)?”

“Q-QUIT IT!”

Somehow, your boyfriend is such a damn tease when it came to you— tHERE ARE APPROPRIATE TIMES FOR THIS NOT NOW >:00

But still... he’s good too.

Akane wipes the tear about to escape from your eye, enjoying how your face blushed tenfold with a sly smile.

“I won’t let anyone else ever make you cry.”

NOTES: did you enjoy?? uh anyways— masterlist on the way :))

@astrxrism

#teru minamoto x reader #akane aoi x reader #tsukasa x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #minamoto teru #akane aoi #jshk tsukasa #i am in dire need of fanfics

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hopeymchope · 4 years ago

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Godzilla Singular Point

I came into Singular Point with some trepidation because Godzilla’s history in anime is both very recent and extremely bad. The three anime movies released between 2017 and 2019 are easily the worst work of famed writer Gen Urobuchi and honestly contain more bullshit than I can even get into here. Those movies and this series were both Godzilla anime properties commissioned by Netflix, which didn’t get my hopes up very much. Thankfully, Singular Point is a very different beast from the anime trilogy. One could argue it’s very different from most Godzilla media, actually — at least from my perspective. And I’m still a pretty entry-level fan of Toho’s Big G, all things considered.

Let me just warn you right up front: This smartphone-based virtual assistant is basically the breakout star of the series.

When you think “Godzilla,” you probably don’t think “incredibly dense sci-fi concepts,” but with the big G’s first-ever anime series, the writers clearly set out to change that perception. Before the first kaiju even appears, the lead characters are plucked from obscurity and dropped into a mystery that involves fourth-dimensional time travel, physical objects that look different from all sides, theoretical math concepts, self-propagating A.I., and a whole lot more. And it’s NEVER made clear how all of it connects to the rampaging kaiju! Although we spend a lot of time investigating a red dust or sand that is very obviously tied to the monsters in SOME way, no one ever makes a connection that explains the relationship. Maybe we’re supposed to wait for a later season to connect the threads... but let’s get into the idea of “another season” later.

I like to think of myself as someone who typically enjoys hard sci-fi, but even with the characters spending loads of time trying to explain the high concepts driving the story, I was never able to fully wrap my head around what was going on in the mystery at the center of GSP. I rewound and rewatched a few explanations, but I still walked away feeling lost. I eventually settled on some vague, loose understandings of most of the ideas mentioned, but those understandings were subject to being ripped apart in subsequent scenes when I was shown or told something completely at odds with what I thought I knew. I can’t say I was ever bored with the thick, dense scientific concepts on offer — trying to find purchase with these far-out ideas kept me glued to the screen — but damn, I sure wish I was able to comprehend them.

What do we want?! DENSE SCIENTIFIC DISCUSSION AND DEBATE! When do we want it?! AFTER THOROUGH RESEARCH, TESTING, AND PEER REVIEW!

Another weird thing about this show is that the lead characters remain in separate locations and on separate tracks for the entire duration. We have Yun — a mechanical engineer and programmer who has an amazing grasp on physics and human behavior. And we have Mei — a grad student who is deeply invested in theoretical science, UMAs, cryptids and other far-flung concepts. Both of them are basically geniuses in their fields, and even though they take opposing views of just how flexible reality is, their shared ability to think “outside the box” becomes the crucial component in solving the mystery at the core of the series. Because they don’t even know one another (despite being separated by like, ONE degree), they only ever interact via text messages and behind screen names, which feels pretty damn weird. At least I immediately liked both of them, with Yun being the standout to me because of how his lowkey reactions to crazy shit generates a lot of humor.

This soundtrack cover LIES; you will never see these characters in a room together like this.

Alas, we don’t get to know the characters a whole lot beyond what we learned of them in the first two episodes. It’s not long before they’re trapped in a series of complicated exposition dumps, endlessly attempting to explain the high concepts of the show to other characters as well as my dumb ass in the audience. The fact that I liked them in the first couple of episodes carried me through more than half of the show, but I was always hoping to see them share more of themselves or just display more emotion. Anime as a medium excels at emotional storytelling. But despite the major, world-altering events the characters are constantly warning us about, none of them seem to have many emotions about said events.

Further complicating matters is how, when major events finally occur in this show, they are often kept off-screen. One character shockingly dies, but the portrayal of that death is so piss-poor that I didn’t even realize it’d happened until someone mentioned their death in the next episode. After that vague death, I was particularly sensitive to anything that looked like it might possibly be lethal. Yet a later event that is played up as a tragic, fatal occurrence ends up... fine, somehow? It’s not clear how the character survives, because — even after one of our heroes is left screaming their name in despair as they seemingly die — nobody ever talks about or explains how he’s just fine a couple of scenes later. And near the end of the series, there’s a major transformation that occurs for one of the characters, and we never see it happen nor do we understand HOW it happened. It’s just that suddenly, this character is extremely different due to off-screen reasons that are only vaguely verbalized.

I guess these two really bonded at some point for some reason? And what you are seeing here is literally the height of emotion shown in the entire show.

Even though the overarching story of the series so far pretty clearly wraps up in episode 13, we then get a post-credits tease for a potential second season. So the question becomes: Would I watch that?

Well... Godzilla Singular Point is a series with a lot of issues that kept me at arms’ length from it — tons of extremely confusing dialogue, highly frustrating choices in direction that lead to baffling storytelling, characters who are mostly exposition-dumping — and yet there’s still some foundational work here that I appreciated a lot. When the action occurs, it’s pretty cool/fun. And when urban destruction occurs, it can be awe-inspiring. The human characters, though little-explored, have likable and interesting foundations to them that could be expanded upon. And I didn’t even mention the soundtrack, which features a variety of musical styles combined with the classic Ifukube theme music and an OP that is an absolute banger. (I have a weakness when it comes to music; a good soundtrack can carry me through even the blandest series sometimes.) Even the core idea of centering a Godzilla series around hard science and mathematical concepts is a compelling one, I think! I just hated the execution of it; they went waaaaay too far on poorly explaining incredibly complex, mind-bending concepts for my pea brain to handle it. They spend so much time trying to explain things, yet somehow they never succeeded for me.

Ultimately, I’d probably give the show another chance. But if I do give another season a chance, it’ll be on probation. I wouldn’t watch the entire season unless I could see within four episodes that they’d definitely improved things.

Would I recommend that anyone watch the series as it currently stands? I mean... not really? I guess if you really dig complex math, hard theoretical science, and/or Toho’s stable of monsters, then maaaaaaaaaaybe give it a shot. But otherwise? Naaaahh. It’s not good enough at anything to make it stand out from the anime crowd. I didn’t hate it like I hated the Godzilla anime films, but Singular Point is still something that both casual viewers and most fans can comfortably ignore for the time being. It’s not a complete disaster, and it’s not without its highlights... but it’s definitely disappointing in my opinion.

OKAYOKAYOKAY, so let’s talk about the kaiju for a bit!

Below will be SPOILERS revealing all of the kaiju that appear in Godzilla Singular Point and giving my feelings on them.

Godzilla — It’s interesting to see a version of Godzilla that borrows some ideas from Shin Godzilla. Shin G has been incredibly unique until now, but this Godzilla manages to fold some of Shin’s distinctive aspects in with the more classic/typical versions to build a fun new depiction. Be forewarned that Godzilla doesn’t show up until the series is halfway over, and he doesn’t get a ton of screen time, either. He’s used quite sparingly and kept in hazy settings, often framed from the neck-up when they show him. It’s a little frustrating that they felt the need to shroud him so much, but I respect the fact that whenever Godzilla is shown, the destruction he causes is on a scale far beyond anything that the rest of the kaiju ever do. He is pure devastation.

Rodan — He’s easily the biological kaiju with the most screen time in Singular Point. Rodan is first introduced as one gigantic pterosaur, but if you’ve seen ANY trailers for this show then you already know that his depiction transitions into an asston of smaller pterosaurs, all of whom are also called “Rodan.” (Apparently the word Rodan is both singular and plural, like the word “buffalo.”) Although he looks kind of cool at first, pretty soon Rodan showing up isn’t special or threatening anymore. Rodan appearances go from “a big goddamn deal” to “some bland background noise” before the series is even 1/3 finished. The design might be a little too far removed from the original for my own taste, but even if I didn’t think that, I wouldn’t be able to care for this Rodan simply because he’s rendered so unimportant and unimpressive.

If you go out in the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise...

Anguirus — Now check this guy out! Anguirus gets one of the coolest fights in the show and also demonstrates some powers that are well beyond anything we’ve seen him do before. Because he sticks to unpopulated areas, we never see him do much damage to Japan, but he is definitely holding all the attention when he’s on-screen. He’s a highlight for me — a total badass who is very unique in his abilities. And the stated origin for his name is goddamn adorable.

Manda — Yup, Manda is in this series... but I don’t have much to say for him. It seems like the creators of the anime didn’t have much to say about him either. His role amounts to little more than a repeated cameo, and in most of those cameos you only ever see his tail. When we finally see his full body, it’s done so briefly and kept at a distance, leaving me with no real impression. I had to look up his design online and... yup, that sure looks like Manda. Final score: MEEEEHH.

Kumonga — I definitely did not see this appearance coming! Kumonga is much smaller here than you may be used to, but she gets to star in the most suspenseful sequence in the series and easily earns the most exciting cliffhanger moment at the end of an episode. I was utterly glued to the show during her screen time, which comes with a lot of icky twists. Good ones! I honestly like Kumonga here more than I ever have previously.

NEW PHONE WHO DIS

Salunga — Uh, who? This is the one monster that isn’t based on a classic Toho kaiju but instead is a brand-new creation. I suppose that everybody who touches the Toho Kaiju franchise wants to make their own mark on it in some regard. But a big part of the fun of this series for me personally was the anticipation of seeing new interpretations and designs of classic Toho monsters. And so, given that he kind of resembles both Baragon and Gabara, I never stopped wishing they’d just used one of those guys as the basis and namesake. Taken on his own, however? He’s... pretty neat. Not unique or exciting, but solidly above par. He resembles a cross between a lizard/dinosaur and an ape, plus his head has some nifty coloration.

Our Jaguar!

Jet Jaguar — I guess Jet Jaguar isn’t exactly a kaiju in the traditional sense because he’s a Giant Robot. However, if you want to consider him one, then I wager he probably gets even more screen time than Rodan! We meet him almost immediately when the series begins. Initially an odd pilot-driven robot that was constructed at the whim of a quirky old factory-owner with too much disposable income, Jet Jaguar grows and changes over the course of the show, ultimately undergoing a transition in episode 7 that makes him pretty damn impossible to dislike. In fact, I utterly adored him by then. This is definitely the best Jet Jaguar I’ve ever seen. His design is recognizably similar to the original yet utterly distinct, too. Like many of the other kaiju here, he’s not nearly as big as he was when he was first introduced to the movies, but his size is ideal for battling the smaller-scale monsters that we spend most of the series on.

#godzilla #godzilla singular point #anime #anime reviews #kaiju

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cestlestial-beings · 4 years ago

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Profound Bond

Summary: Dean says he's not going to let Cas die a virgin. When Plan A doesn’t work out, he takes things into his own hands.

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel Pairing: Dean Winchester, Castiel Word Count: 1700 AO3: Link

Dean’s laughing hard as they escape out the back door of the—what had Cas called it?—right, a den of iniquity. Dean had seen upset hookers before, but he’d never seen anyone offend one to the extent Cas had.

“What’s so funny?” Cas asks.

“Oh, nothing.” He laughs again and Cas smiles at him, reacting to Dean’s amusement though still not quite understanding what’s funny. Dean feels warmth blossom in his chest at Cas’s confusion. He remembers something he’d said a couple of hours ago: You are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Well, there was no reason it had to be a woman, right? Angels could possess vessels of either gender, so maybe that meant they could swing either way, too.

They climb into the car.

“Okay,” Dean says as he turns on the engine. “So Plan A of getting you laid didn’t work out. But that’s okay. We’ve still got some time to kill before sunrise, so I have a Plan B.”

Cas looks at Dean and tilts his head. “A Plan B?”

Dean pauses, staring at his hands on the steering wheel. Maybe he’s dumb for suggesting this. Maybe Cas will go to his death wondering why Dean had to make it weird. Or maybe…

He takes a deep breath and looks up to Cas. He points to himself. “Plan B.”

“I don’t…” Cas says, brow furrowed. Then his face goes slack as he realizes. “Oh.”

Okay, it was a dumb idea. But Dean can still backtrack. He just has to think of something to say, quick—

“I think I’d like that,” Cas says.

Dean’s breath catches. He pastes a smile on his face to hide his surprise. “Yeah?”

Cas nods, smiling to himself. He looks almost… shy. “Yeah.”

“Great.”

Dean puts the car in drive and steps on the gas.

An hourly motel is kind of sleazy, but it’s not much sleazier than bringing Cas to a brothel, and Cas doesn’t really seem to mind. Dean lets them into the room he’d gotten for the next two hours.

It doesn’t look so bad, really. The wallpaper is stained and peeling in a few places and the plumbing looks three decades old, but at least the king-size bed is neatly made and all the towels look fresh.

Dean finishes surveying the room and turns back to Cas. Cas looks nervous again, shifting uncomfortably as he looks around the room with wide eyes.

“Hey,” Dean says, putting his hands on Cas’s shoulders. He smiles. “Relax. You’ll like it.”

Dean pulls off his jacket and over-shirt and tosses them over the back of the chair nearby, and then kicks off his shoes. “You too,” he says, nodding at Cas. Cas takes off his trench coat, suit jacket, shoes.

He looks more… human, like this. Slimmer, without the two layers of jackets. Dean’s eyes slowly slide down Cas’s body, stopping on where Cas’s dick is straining against his slacks.

Dean smiles and reaches out, grasping Cas’s tie and tugging Cas closer. With Cas close, Dean’s hand slides up to rest on the side of Cas’s neck.

Cas’s eyes flit back and forth between Dean’s, his eyebrows still pulled together nervously. Dean brushes a lock of hair off Cas’s forehead, his fingertips softly brushing the skin, and Cas’s face relaxes.

“Listen, if… If you want me to stop, just tell me, and I’ll stop,” Dean says softly. “No questions asked.”

Cas nods very slightly, his breath coming out ragged.

Dean leans in and presses his lips to Cas’s. They’re a little chapped but they’re also soft and warm and more human than he thought they’d be, and Dean’s suddenly aware he’s kissing an angel, the angel that had lifted him up from Hell and defied heaven for him, and that’s something so crazy and out there that he couldn’t have even imagined it just a couple years ago.

Dean unbuttons Cas’s shirt slow, trying not to get too distracted by Cas’s tongue tentatively running along Dean’s lips, pushing gently inside his mouth.

Dean undoes Cas’s tie and pulls it off him, and then pushes off Cas’s shirt. Dean breaks off the kiss for just a second so he can pull of his own t-shirt before his lips are back on Cas’s, and then on Cas’s jaw, Cas’s neck. Cas tilts his head so Dean has better access to his neck, his hands resting on Dean’s waist as Dean’s hands roam up his chest.

Dean pulls back to look at Cas. Cas has a dazed expression as his eyes meet Dean’s. Dean holds Cas’s face, runs a thumb along Cas’s cheek. He kisses Cas again and drops his hand so he can undo Cas’s belt and pants, and then his own.

He climbs out of his pants, and Cas copies him. Dean feels a wave of vulnerability and self-consciousness now that he’s completely out of his clothes. This is Cas; he shouldn’t feel this exposed and afraid of judgment, right? But then again, this is Cas. Cas has seen so many versions of Dean, after everything they’ve been through, but Cas has never seen him like this.

He swallows down his discomfort. “Give me a second,” Dean says, and he goes to retrieve the condom and lube from the convenience store bag they’d picked up on the way over. Dean tears open the condom as he walks back over to Cas and rolls it onto Cas’s dick while Cas watches.

“What is this for?” Cas asks.

“Protection,” Dean says.

“Protection from what?”

“STDs.” Cas looks confused, so Dean adds, “Sexually-transmitted diseases.”

“I don’t have any diseases,” Cas says.

Dean gives him a quick smile. “I’ve heard that one before. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Okay,” Cas says, still uncertain.

Dean opens the lube packet next, squeezes some into his hand and rubs it on Cas’s dick. Cas inhales sharply at the cool contact.

“What is this for?” he asks, slightly breathless, looking down at Dean’s hand on his dick.

“So it doesn’t chafe,” Dean says. “It’ll feel better for both of us, promise.”

Cas looks back up at Dean, sudden panic in his eyes.

Dean strokes Cas’s face with his clean hand. He gives his best reassuring smile. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna guide you through it, and it’ll feel good, okay?”

Cas swallows and nods.

“How are you feeling so far?” Dean asks.

Cas hesitates. “I feel okay.”

Dean leans in. “Relax, baby,” he says, his lips hovering over Cas’s, and then he kisses him. Dean feels his cheeks burn—he hadn’t meant for the term of endearment to slip out, but Cas doesn’t seem to notice. Dean notices the tension melt out of Cas as Dean kisses him.

Dean pulls back. “Ready?”

Cas licks his lips and nods.

Dean feels kind of dumb explaining the basics of what goes where, what Cas should do, how he’s probably going to feel. But Cas seems attentive enough that Dean supposes he actually doesn’t know this stuff. This millennia-old angel, completely lost on how to fuck a guy.

Finally Dean crawls onto the bed and lies down on his stomach, and twists to look back as Cas climbs over him. Dean gives him a thumbs up and then Cas lines up, pushes in.

Cas lets out a long exhale as he slides in deeper, and Dean closes his eyes and presses his forehead against the comforter, gripping the sheets tightly as that familiar hurts-so-good feeling goes through him.

“How does that feel?” Cas murmurs.

“Really good, baby,” Dean says, and this time the pet name feels right. “Keep going.”

Dean has had awkward sex before, so he’s surprised at how good Cas is at this—finding the right rhythm, the right pressure. Dean turns his head to the side and Cas leans forward and adjusts himself so he can kiss Dean. They fuck slow and sensual and gentle, and when Cas finally comes, he lets out a light gasp near Dean’s lips and pulls back, his movement stilling.

Dean feels a burst of affection for him. This angel, who he’d hated until so recently. This angel who’d been there when it counted. This angel that he feels bound to, so deeply that he can’t put it in words. This is just a favor for a friend, he reminds himself, but he knows it’s not just that, somewhere along the line it became something more, and he wondered how that happened.

Cas pulls out, breathing hard, and Dean rolls over underneath him.

“Good?” he asks, grinning.

Cas just nods.

Dean gets a hand on the back of Cas’s neck and pulls him down to kiss him again. He wonders if they’ll get the chance to do this again, if they survive tonight. He wonders if Cas would want to. It was a one-time thing, right? Make sure Cas lost his v-card before he died. Mission accomplished. Dean feels a hollow disappointment at the thought this might never happen again.

Cas pulls back and sees the look on Dean’s face. He frowns. “Something wrong?”

Dean holds Cas’s face in his hands, smiles up at him. “No. I’m okay.” He glances at the nightstand clock and sighs. “We should get going though. We’ll need some time to set up so we can summon Raphael.”

Cas looks at the clock too. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“One more,” Cas says, and he bends down and kisses Dean again, slow and deep, and Dean feels warm, everywhere, totally content. Like he hasn’t been in a long time.

Too soon, Cas climbs off. He glances down at himself, sticky with lube. “I should get cleaned up,” he says.

Dean laughs softly. “Yeah, you should. Come on, we have enough time for a shower,” he says. He rolls off the bed and takes Cas’s hand. He pulls him towards the bathroom, forgetting for now that they’ll be talking to an archangel soon. Forgetting that the end of the world is coming.

They don’t have long left until they’ll have to face reality again, but Dean’s going to make every second until then count.

#destiel #destiel fic #fic #my writing #pwop #s05e03 au #dean pov

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chipper9906 · 4 years ago

Text

Bound To You - Chapter 12: Last Dream

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 9,332

Overall Word Count: 94,075

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (12/?)

Chapter Preview:

“I just… I don’t get it.”

“You don’t get what?”

“That you’re not angry!” Dean throws his hands in the air, his voice rising in volume as his frustration takes over. “You should be furious, Cas! Furious that Chuck made you for the sole purpose of being his good little slave! Furious that, once you decided you didn’t want to be part of that, he was so willing to throw you away! And now, after everything… this is how it ends?”

“What use is there in being angry?” Castiel’s voice is calm and soothing, a complete opposite to the rage brewing in Dean’s. “I could spend the last few hours of my life angry. I could rage on and on, shout to a God that no longer exists about how unfair it is. Or, I could spend my last few hours by your side. I could cherish the moments I get to feel your hand in mine, your heartbeat under my ear, all the things I never thought I’d get to have.”

Link To Fic

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Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

The air felt stale when they left the Mill’s house. Sam would tell you that Dean’s little stunt of surprising Jody and the girls with his new condition was a jerk move to make, but in reality, it was the exact move he should have made. Because that’s what Dean would have done. Made a joke of things, try and make everything seem light-hearted.

They hadn’t even stayed for dinner. Not that Jody hadn’t offered – she had nearly forced them to sit down at the dinner table by gunpoint. There was something about Dean’s slumped, distant posture that eventually had Jody backing off. Dean had insisted that he wasn’t hungry and had ‘lost his appetite’, which was a cause of concern in itself when it came to Dean, but after what had just happened… Sam would be lying if he said he felt in the mood for sitting around the table for a family dinner, too.

The goodbyes were short, made up of sympathetic pats to their backs and squeezes of their arms. Claire seemed to hold onto Dean for just a little bit longer, holding each other’s gaze for a moment more than usual. Sam tried to pretend he didn’t feel the squeeze around his heart when he saw those blue eyes flash for just a moment as Claire held onto him.

It felt like Cas was saying goodbye for the last time.

At least he had a chance to do so this time, Sam supposed.

“Sam?” Eileen pulls his attention away from Jody squeezing Dean’s hand with a sad smile. Eileen tucks her hand into his, her thumb brushing against his wrist. “Are you… okay?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admits to her. “I want to believe that we have the answer. That Cas is going to be okay, and all we need to do is follow the spell.”

Eileen’s face twists in pity. “But you don’t?”

“It’s hard to when it comes to something this unknown…” Sam stops in his sentence as Dean finishes up his goodbyes, quickly planting a smile on his face when Dean turns to face them. “Hey, do you wanna stop by a diner on the way home or-,”

Sam trails off as Dean just wheels right by him, not even glancing up at the two as he passes by. Sam looks back to Jody over his shoulder as Dean goes, who could only give him one last sorrowful look and a wave before she’s closing the door.

“Right…” Sam mumbles to Eileen, looking to Dean as he continues towards the Impala. “This is going to be a fun car ride home…”

At least, that’s what he thought.

Instead, Dean was quiet. Not a peep in the first two hours of the car ride, just staring out of the window with his eyes unfocused. There was every chance he was talking to Cas in his head, which would make the whole blank look on his face much less disconcerting, but… he gets the feeling that Dean doesn’t want to be interrupted from his thoughts right now, whether he’s talking to Cas or not.

An hour later, Sam glances at him through the rearview mirror. Instead of that empty look on his face, Sam has to keep back a bark of laughter at the sight of his brother’s face planted against the window, mouth open and drooling over himself. Sam taps at Eileen, gesturing towards Dean with a jerk of his head when she turns to see what he wants.

Eileen twists herself around to get a glimpse of Dean, her face breaking out into a grin at the sight of him. “Not the prettiest of sleepers…”

“Probably why he sleeps on his front so much,” Sam jokes. The amused smile quickly drops off his face however, the concern for his brother that he was trying to ignore pushing to the front. “Do you think… with how much he’s sleeping, maybe it’s like… I don’t know, maybe an escape for him?”

“You mean like he’s running away?”

“Yeah. Not that I blame him, but… sleeping has never really been a peaceful thing for either of us, you know? Sometimes I can hear him shouting from across the hall on particularly bad nights. All the bad stuff that’s happened to us, memories of Hell… it’s a weird way to escape.”

“Look at it this way: Dean’s already been through Hell. He knows what happened, he knows what to expect in those dreams. What’s happening here is something he doesn’t know the ending of. In the real world, he might be about to lose Cas. Maybe facing those memories is better than facing reality. One type of Hell that’s more bearable than the other…”

* * *

There’s a door.

It’s a door Castiel has been stood in front of many times. The dreary grey concrete walls seem to focus his vision in towards the warm, soft colors of the door’s wooden material. Castiel’s hand wraps around the door handle, stepping forward to push it open. The door doesn’t budge under his grip, keeping him locked out from the room’s interior.

“Dean?” Castiel calls out to him softly, hand still wrapped around the door’s handle. He waits for a response he doesn’t get. “Dean, I know you’re in there. Can we talk?”

The handle shifts under his hand. A subtle click in its mechanisms underneath the cold metal. When Castiel pushes the door this time, it swings open easily. He takes a cautious step into Dean’s room, waiting for Dean to move from his position on the bed; laid out flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his hands clasped just under his chest.

It wasn’t until Castiel realized that Dean wasn’t laying in his usual spot on the bed that he moved closer. Dean wasn’t sat in the middle of his bed like he usually was, typically taking advantage of every inch of memory-foam that was available to him. This time, he had shifted over to the left side of the bed, leaving ample room next to him.

Enough room for another person.

Castiel takes a seat on the edge of the bed, letting out a tired sigh when Dean remains silent next to him. His eyes were still firmly fixed on the ceiling, only barely able to see the worried look Castiel was throwing over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye.

“Can’t say I was expecting the bunker this time around,” Castiel breaks the dreadful silence they were in, speaking towards the wall in front of him. “Why the bunker?”

Dean finally reacts, letting his eyes fall closed. “I wanted something normal for us. By our standards, anyway. Not a beach we’ll never get to visit, or some fake bar that only exists in my head. Just… me and you, in the bunker. At home. Something that feels… real.”

Castiel nods, twisting his body around to face Dean. “Why now? That didn’t stop you before?”

“You know why,” Dean mutters darkly. “In a few hours, we’ll be back home. Sam will start getting the ingredients together, and we’ll perform the spell. In a few hours… you might be gone. This could be my last dream with you. Not a memory of you, but the actual you. I… I wanted my last few hours with the real you to feel real.”

“I don’t think it matters where we are, Dean. Your dream could take place on the Moon, and it would be all the same; so long as you’re with me.”

The seconds tick by without a reply from Dean. Castiel makes up his mind, bending down to pull the laces of his shoes out of their neat loops, pulling his feet out from his shoes and lining them up neatly next to each other by the bed. He swings his legs up onto the bed, laying down lowering his head on the pillow next to Dean.

Dean’s breath hitches as feels Cas turn towards him. Cas had his fingers scrunched into the soft material of Dean’s shirt, his hand heavy atop Dean’s chest. It does at least get Dean to open his eyes again, greeted to the sight of Cas tucked into his side. Dean feels his hand lifting up before he can think about it, settling on top of Cas’s hand.

“Are you going to tell me why you tried to lock me out?” Castiel’s voice rumbled through the bed.

“Wasn’t my decision. At least, I didn’t choose to.”

“You did,” Castiel insists. “But perhaps it was a subconscious desire to keep me away.”

“Why d’ya think that?”

“You’re trying to push me away,” Castiel says it like a statement of fact, not a guess. “You’re trying to distance yourself, so it won’t hurt as much when I die.”

“Don’t-,” Dean snaps, the heat in his voice dropping away as quickly as it had come. “Don’t say it like that…”

Castiel frowned at that, the confusion clear on his face. “I thought that was the whole reason you were doing this… that you’ve accepted my fate?”

“It’s not fate,” Dean’s voice has a dangerous edge to it. “This isn’t some pre-destined crap. It’s life screwing us over once again, and I won’t-,”

“You won’t what?”

“Look, maybe the spell will go perfectly, okay? Maybe we’ll get our miracle, and you’ll be back. But… I think we both know that that’s just a pipe dream at this point. Rowena wouldn’t bring it up unless she thought it was a problem, and clearly… she doesn’t have much hope for this either.”

“It could work, yes.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I don’t know for sure, Dean. We’ve gone over this already.”

Dean nodded his head, turning his gaze back towards the bland ceiling above. “I’ve been doing some thinking, Cas. It’s something that’s been on my mind for a while, and after Rowena… I’ve made up my mind.”

Castiel didn’t like the sound of that. Underneath his hand, he could feel Dean’s heart pounding in his chest. “Dean… what are you talking about?”

“I know I made you a promise, Cas. But I’m going to have to take back that promise.”

“What?”

“When the time comes… when the spell starts to fail, and you’re left with the last of your grace… I want you to kill me.”

Castiel must have heard incorrectly. Yes, that was the only explanation for what he had just heard. Because there was no way Dean had just asked him that.

“This better be some joke I don’t understand, Dean Winchester,” Cas pushed himself up until he was sitting, panicked eyes settling on Dean’s – unfortunately - completely serious face.

“Not a joke,” Dean says quietly. “I don’t care what way you do it; burn me out from the inside, slit my throat and use the last of your grace to heal my body, whatever.”

“How could you ask me that?” Castiel blanches, feeling his voice catch in his throat.

“Because you deserve better, Cas,” Dean pushes himself up to face Cas, both of their expressions beginning to shift to matching frustration at the other. “This way, you get another chance at life, okay? I don’t want to have to live with the reminder that you’re stuck in the Empty, because of me. You can take over my body and… and live.”

“Live?” Castiel splutters. “I will not be living, Dean. I will be stuck, staring at your face in the mirror every day, knowing that I took you away. That you are dead by my hands.”

“I won’t be living either, Cas!” Dean argued back. “When I die… if I’m lucky, my soul goes up instead of down. And hey, maybe it’ll be a fun mariachi party with Rowena if I go downstairs, either way, you can bet your ass that they’d be better than having to live with the reminder that I lost you! That I finally got to know what it’s like to truly have you as my own, then have you taken away! Stuck in that awful freakin’ place for eternity-,”

“Dean, no matter what road we take, I’ll always end up in the Empty,” Castiel interrupted Dean. “Even if we do get me back into my own body, even when my grace runs out, I won’t be truly human. I won’t have a soul. I’ll age, I’ll die… and I’ll be taken to the Empty. We may be only prolonging my fate, but… I still want to experience life – with you. Without you, it… it all falls apart.”

“Cas… I can’t do this again…”

“Yes, you can,” Castiel assured him. “If this spell doesn’t work, then… that’s just how it goes. Sam and Eileen will still be here, Dean. You’ll all still have each other. No matter what happens, I’m just grateful that we got to spend the time together that we did – even if most of it was in your head. I never thought we’d ever get to have this, Dean, so the fact that you’ve given me the one thing I always wanted? I’d consider my life fulfilled.”

“You shouldn’t be content with just that, Cas,” Dean argued. “I just… I don’t get it.”

“You don’t get what?”

And that’s why, Dean thinks. That’s the reason he’s as angry as he is on Cas’s behalf. He’s not just angry at God, at the universe, of whatever it is that’s decided that Cas doesn’t get to live. He’s angry because all those things Cas wants to cherish in his last few hours are things Cas should have been able to experience years ago. They’re things that Cas thought he wasn’t allowed to have, things that he thought Dean would never want to share with him.

He’s blaming himself. And he knows that something that Cas wouldn’t want him doing, but he can’t help it. Because it’s not just Cas that loses his life, but Dean, too. Maybe not in the traditional way. Maybe his heart will continue beating in his chest, his soul will still shine in his body, but a part of him will go with Cas. The part of him that found a new type of joy in life.

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love with a coward, Cas,” Dean whispers to him, the fight draining out of him at Castiel’s affectionate gaze.

“I didn’t,” Castiel refutes, the tender touch of his hand on Dean’s face enough for the last of Dean’s defense’s to crumble away. “I fell in love with a man who was raised with an aged idea of what it’s like to be a man. I fell in love with a man who’s willing to throw away any sense of comfort, of happiness for himself, if it means his little brother gets to experience them. I fell in love with a man who taught me what it’s like to truly be part of a family, who loved me even in the times I didn’t deserve it. It’s not just in the way you’ve devoted your life to saving innocents that makes you one of the bravest men I know. It’s that, despite all that’s happened to you, you still care. Even despite the way you were taught to believe you should be, you found a way to accept a love you didn’t know you could feel. You, Dean Winchester, are the furthest thing from a coward.”

Despite this, Dean Winchester still considers himself to be a coward. Because, instead of responding to Castiel’s earnest words with ones he himself deserves to hear, he falls back on a move his done many times before – whenever the girl’s he picked up from the bar start talking about going for breakfast the next morning, or whether she can have his number. Instead of telling Cas what he deserves to hear, he closes the small distance between their lips, ignoring that nagging nuisance in the back of his head telling him to savor the taste of Castiel’s lips in case it’s the last time he gets to.

He takes out his frustration against Castiel’s mouth. Instead of using his lips to talk, he all but attacks Cas’s, pushing forward into the angel’s space until his back is forced down into the bed. The sudden drop and subsequent impact have Castiel’s teeth catching at Dean’s lip, piercing the soft flesh without meaning to. The stinging pain is a good distraction, the intensity of it stirring Dean on to push harder, to chase the pain that comes from it.

It’s almost like a battle. Castiel fights back in his own way, pushing himself up against Dean just as much as Dean is forcing him down. He manages to push himself up onto his elbows, his chest pressed against Dean as Dean’s hands snake up his back, the feeling of his fingers brushing against the back of his neck making Cas gasp into his mouth. His lungs are telling him he needs air, but all the rest of his body wants to do is to breathe in more of Dean; to take in the smell of gunpowder ingrained into his skin after years of wielding firearms, of the cheap multi-pack of soap from the local grocery store and the fancy conditioner he secretly steals from Sam on occasion because he likes the way it makes his hair all soft.

Castiel lets his fingers tangle into those soft strands of hair, the sharp tug and burst of pain across Dean’s scalp getting him to growl against Castiel’s mouth, giving Cas more access as his tongue swipes across the freshly open wound that was gouged into Dean’s lip. The taste of metal bursts across his tongue, that sharp coppery flavor he’s so used to tasting from his own blood mixed with an unexpected saltiness – one he realizes with a jolt and a caving feeling in his stomach is of Dean’s tears slipping down to his lips.

“Dean-,” Castiel tries to stop him, but it’s made abundantly clear by the way Dean quickly swoops back in and reclaims his lips that he doesn’t want to hear it.

Castiel gets an arm between them, pushing against Dean’s chest in an attempt to make space. It’s enough to get Dean’s lips to pause, to stutter to a stop, which is all Cas needs to pull away. “Dean, stop.”

Dean listens. His lips are parted, hovering only a mere few inches from Cas’s as his breath fans across Cas, panting in his exertion. His eyes are firmly shut, managing to escape Castiel’s disturbed gaze – though not enough to stop his tears from spilling over, mixing with the thin trail of blood that ran down his chin.

“You’re hurt,” Castiel raises a hand to wipe away the blood from Dean’s chin, only to have his hand gently caught in mid-air by Dean’s.

“I know,” Dean rumbles in response, placing a kiss on Castiel’s fingers, leaving behind a smear of red across tan skin. “It’s okay. I need it right about now. The pain makes this feel more…more….”

More real.

Castiel’s brow furrows at the pain that flashes across Dean’s scrunched face, letting his hand rest on the side of Dean's face, wanting to just brush the pain away. “We can’t do this like this, Dean. It wouldn’t… we wouldn’t truly be ourselves.”

Castiel is looking at him in that way again. That way that says he already knows all the little things inside Dean's head, all the things he thinks before he even thinks them.

“You're throwing yourself at me as a means to escape. A physical sensation that will help you run away from the problem at hand. That’s not what I want us to be, Dean. I can’t be… a distraction for you.”

“That’s not what you are,” Dean says, ragged and harsh. “You’re not a distraction for me. You're… fuck, you’re my destination, Cas. And you know I don’t like saying girly shit like that, but… I'm trying with everything I got, to get to you. All this effort, everything we've done… its led to this. To the future I sometimes think about, with you, and I… I feel like I’m losing my mind, Cas. Because after everything… I might lose my best friend. I might lose my future, and its-,”

Dean drops back down onto the bed, burrowing the heels of his palm into his closed eyes, pressing down until the burn of his tears is replaced by the immense pressure, his blurry vision replaced with the swirling and popping splotches of color in the dark of his closed eyelids.

“Unfair?” Castiel offers the word to finish Dean's rant. It’s enough for Dean to bark out a dry laugh.

“Understatement of the century there, Cas, but sure.”

“I would perhaps argue it’s the understatement of the millennia,” Castiel says, his oddly light and joking tone enough for Dean to peer up at him underneath his hands. “Though, I may be biased; it is me that’s dying, after all.”

Dean laughs, then contradicts himself by telling Cas, “That's not funny.”

“Well, I thought it was funny,” Cas drops into the bed next to him, turning his head to face Dean and gifting him with one of those gummy smiles he so rarely sees from Cas. “And I got most of my sense of humor from you, so… I know you found it funny.”

The toothy smile on Cas’s face relaxes into a more gentle, yet also more perplexed one when he notices Dean’s eyes scanning across his face, seemingly taking in every little detail he can see. “What is it?” Castiel asks after what felt like a good two minutes or so of Dean just looking.

“Just… devoting you to memory,” Dean’s whispered confession brushes across his face the same time Dean’s finger slides down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose scrunches up when you smile. I mean really smile. The ones when you’re about to laugh.”

“Does it?” Castiel’s brow shoots up in surprise, pinching at his own nose as if it was scrunched up right this minute.

“Yeah. It’s adorable,” Dean tells him with a beaming smile of his own. “Never get to see it from you that often.”

“Didn’t have much to smile about,” Castiel turns onto his side, curled towards Dean – who finds himself copying Cas without much of thought; there was always something about Cas that was like a magnet to him, drawing him in towards the angel, finding himself mere inches away from him in the blink of an eye.

If Cas wasn’t off doing his own thing, causing Dean much undue stress – like he didn’t already have enough of that - there was one place he’d always be: by his side.

As had been stated by many different people – Hell, different species of monsters, angels, and demons alike – in the occasional times they found themselves in such company. It quite literally seemed like everyone and everything knew about him and Cas before they did. Or, at least, he did…

Castiel? Oh, he’s not here. You see, he has this weakness: he likes you.

Sorry, you have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you?

The stench of that Impala’s all over your overcoat, angel.

I spent all that time trying to get through to you. Dean calls once and now it's “hello?”

Of course. Yeah. You just lost one of the best friends you ever had. But you’re ‘fine.’

The very touch of you corrupts! When Castiel first laid a hand on you in hell, he was lost!

How do I start looking for this ‘Castiel?’ - - I’ve got one word for you: Winchester.

Ask him, he was your boyfriend first.

What about, uh, Castiel? He seems helpful and… dreamy?

To save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean you draped yourself in the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?

And then you’d kill the angel, Castiel. Now that one… that I suspect would hurt something awful.

There comes a time where every relationship has… run its course.

I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way I cured my own; by cutting it out.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years on the road? It’s when someone’s pining for somebody else.

How is it that you lost Dean? I thought you two were joined at the… you know, everything.

“You’ve been smiling more recently, though.” Dean points out. “These past few years with Jack… you seemed… happier.”

“I wouldn’t say happy. Otherwise, the Empty would have taken me long ago. I was… content. Weighed down by this fear I would lose you, or Sam, or Jack, or Mary… lose my family. But, content that I, at the very least, had a family. That I was part of your family. And now, these past few weeks… you’ve given me more to smile about, Dean.”

“Glad I’m of some use,” Dean says, eyes flicking up to Cas’s as he picks up on something else. His finger shifts from where it had settled in the dip of Cas’s chin, his feather-like touch now brushing across the corner of Cas’s eyes. “You’ve got crow-eyes too, now. Don’t really see it with the small smiles, but every now and then you do these smiles with your eyes and they’re there. That’s how I know you’re really smiling.”

Castiel hummed in amusement, tapping at Dean’s chest. “You get them too. Beautiful laugh lines…”

“Guess we’re getting older, huh?” Dean cracks a smile that brings out the laugh lines Cas was talking about, which in turn brings them out from Cas.

“Technically, if we’re talking solely vessels, I was able to keep Jimmy’s body from aging for a few years before I stopped channeling my grace towards preserving his age. We’re probably around the same age at this point. I might even be younger than you.”

Dean huffs. “That’s cheating. Us puny humans can’t just pause our aging, you know?”

“Hmm. Instead, you send your aging body into dangerous hunts that would be challenging even to your twenty-six-year-old self. Smart.”

“You’re never going to stop giving me shit for that, huh?”

The care-free smile on Dean’s face disappears seconds after he says this, the painful constricting in chest wrenching it off his face from the cruel thoughts his brain has supplied:

He doesn’t have much time left to tease you about it.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Castiel’s words, along with the feeling of his hand reaching out to grab hold of his, brings his focus back onto the angel laid beside him. “Tell me about something else.”

Dean swallows hard, trying to push down the lump in his throat that seemed to have been stuck there ever since they had left the Mill’s family home. “Like what?”

“Tell me about that future you were talking about,” Castiel suggests, letting his fingers trace soothing, delicate patterns across the back of Dean’s hands; weathered, roughened, and scarred hands that aren’t used to such loving touches. “What does that look like?”

Dean ducks his head in embarrassment – which is hard to do when your face is smooshed up against the mattress – trying to laugh off Castiel’s conversation starter. “C’mon man, you don’t want to hear about that…”

“Then why did I ask?” Castiel refutes, which, yeah okay, that was a fair point.

“How far into the future we talking here?”

Castiel’s fingers tap against Dean’s hand as he thinks. “Start small. Then go as far as you can see.”

“Alright…” Dean clears his throat, suddenly finding it difficult to look Castiel directly in the face. “Uh… I guess, without my legs, I’d have to give up the physical part of hunting. Also pretty sure you cant be an FBI agent, or wildlife and game, or whatever else when you can't walk, so… that would rule out the whole investigating and talking to witnesses part, but uh…”

Dean huffs out a laugh at the imaginary scenario playing out in his head, the subtle curl of his lips enough for Castiel’s heart to feel ten times lighter in his chest. “You’d probably have to grab hold of my damn wheelchair to stop me going out there… we’d yell at each other about what I can and can’t do; I’d tell you you’re not my damn babysitter, you’d tell me to stop being such an ass and listen for once…”

“Hmm… I’m starting to wonder if you’re a prophet that we were never told about.”

“Nah. I just know you as well as I know myself. Like how I’m a stubborn dick-,”

“-Who’s being stubborn about his need to keep helping people,” Castiel softens the blow of Dean’s own insult at himself.

“-And how a part of you wishes I could still hunt, because not long ago you could just touch my head and my legs would be fixed, and that guilt eats you up every day. Mostly because, that other part of you is glad I can’t hunt anymore, because now it’s easier to keep me safe.”

Castiel goes quiet at that, the tenseness of his body under Dean’s hand only going to prove his previous statement right. And yet, he still asks Cas, “Am I right?”

“I thought I was the one in your head, not the other way around.”

Dean taps at the center of Cas’s forehead, pushing down a laugh at the way Cas’s eyes go crossed when they try to focus on his finger. “You hang around a guy for twelve years, you tend to get an idea of what’s going on in that big ol’ billions year old celestial brain of yours.”

Castiel grabs hold of Dean’s tapping finger. “Technically, I don’t have a brain, rather a complex system made up of energy and-,”

“Really not feeling the science lesson right about now, Cas.”

“Apologies. Please continue with your story about how we become a couple that argues all the time.”

Dean snorts at the sass from Cas – the one trait that followed over from his few dickish years of ‘loyal solider of the lord’ Cas – letting Cas fold his hand around Dean’s finger, sliding their hands together in the small space between them. “We do end up arguing about stuff all the time. At first it’s stuff like me staying up too late watching over the hunter phone line… you suggesting you join Sam and Eileen on a hunt – that one gets you sent to the dog house for a few nights.”

“Ah, I could definitely see that… you’d be cuddled up to Miracle whilst I’m left all alone on the couch…”

Dean grins at Cas, raising his free hand to give him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Ya see? One in the same mind…”

“Do we only argue about hunting related topics?”

“Course not. I mean, mostly at first, yeah. But as time goes on… it becomes stuff like who’s turn it is to wash the dishes, you turning into Sam and getting all mother-hen about my diet-,”

“Heart disease is no joke, Dean.”

“Hey, what do you know, not the future but the present!”

Cas shoots him a smite worthy squinty glare. “Well, it is concerning the amount of red meat you eat.”

“Says the guy who was ‘in the low hundreds’ when he went on his ‘White Castle’ binge.”

“That hardly counts; I was being influence by Famine himself.”

“I watched you eat raw burger meat out of a tray on the floor, Cas. On your knees. With your hands.”

“Dean, I once saw you puking up into a bush when you thought Sam and I weren’t looking after you bet Sam you couldn’t eat a whole cherry pie after already eaten a triple bacon cheeseburger with a side order of fries and onion rings. Without Famine’s influence, may I add.”

“You, uh… you saw that?”

“Yes,” Castiel answered, nose crinkling in disgust at the memory of the cherry-red tinted vomit. “I tried distracting Sam by asking him about a ‘meme’ Claire had sent me on my phone so he wouldn’t see you, quite literally, throwing away your winning bet.”

“Yeah… that didn’t taste as good coming up as it did going down…”

“And yet, you ate two grilled cheese sandwiches when we got back to the bunker.”

“I made space for more food, Cas. I was hungry.” Dean defended himself.

Cas wasn’t swayed by his argument. “You didn’t even brush your teeth first!”

“Eh, I washed the vomit flavor away with beer, it was fine.”

Castiel shook his head at the hunter in a mix of amazement and downright concern. “You are a disaster of a human being, Dean Winchester.”

“Yep. And you love me.”

“And I love you,” Castiel confirms, the words sending Dean's heart into overdrive every time he hears Cas speak them. “Even in our future, when you send me to sleep on the couch for things that are likely your fault.”

“Hey! If I sent you out of our bed, then I would have had a good reason for it.”

“Hmm. Sure.” Castiel hummed in that obnoxiously higher-pitched tone that shows he doesn’t agree with Dean in the slightest.

“Wow. Fine then, guess I won’t tell you about our wedding-,”

That gets Cas’s attention.

“Wedding? You… you’ve thought about that?”

Dean shrugs his shoulders like it’s no big deal – when in reality his mind is screaming at him to shut up and not talk about this because what red-blooded American guy daydreams about his wedding? “Sometimes, yeah. Do, uh… do you ever think about it?”

“I… I suppose not, no. Marriage is a very human custom, and so… it’s not really something that had crossed my mind.”

“Huh. Guess that makes sense…”

Castiel’s brow pinches at the apparent disappointment in Dean’s voice, worried he took his previous statement as discouragement. “I’d imagine you have a broader knowledge of weddings than me. Describe it for me, Dean.”

Dean huffs, eyes drifting up to the polished wood of his bed’s headboard. “Uh… The reception after would be huge, I'm talking everyone we know – though that’s not many people. Any chance to throw a party, right? But the ceremony itself would be small. Like, ‘small’ small. I’m talking just me, you, Sam, Eileen, and uh…”

Castiel tries to catch Dean’s attention as Dean trails off, but Dean’s eyes are fixed on a small, out of place chip etched into the headboard. “And… who?”

“Well, I thought… if she’d be up for it, that is, that… maybe Claire would be there to, uh… to give you away?”

Castiel’s brows shoot up, taken aback both by Dean’s offer to have Claire be a part of their wedding – even one that was entirely fictional right now – and that Dean was seemingly dancing around the mention of Claire, as if he wouldn’t like the idea of having one of the few people he cares about in this world be there as he marries the only person he’s ever loved.

“Sam would be best man, of course.” Dean continues hurriedly, having missed the emotions on display as they flickered past Castiel’s face. “He’d probably want to officiate too… wouldn’t be too hard to get one of those online licenses for it – at least, that’s what movies and shows have taught me. You’d ask Eileen to be maid of honor, and she’d burst into tears which would probably set Sam off too, and I’ll have to sit there in disbelief as all three of you cry about this wedding that’s still only being planned…”

The small smile on Cas’s face slowly grows bigger and bigger as Dean babbles on, not even noticing the shiny glean that was swimming in Castiel’s ocean eyes.

“And… shit, seeing as this is a fake wedding and all that… I’d like… Fuck-,”

The expletive takes Cas by surprise – almost as much as the tears that Dean quickly wipes away with his thumb before Castiel can even be sure they were there.

“It would just be nice if Jack was there, you know? I mean, he… I know, he’s God and all that now, more important things, but… he’s our son, and-,”

That did it. Castiel didn’t think anything could both hurt him and make him feel like his heart was full more than Dean calling Jack their ‘kid’, but there was something about ‘son’… something so much more personal and fatherly about that, that pushed the tears that had been building out from the creases of his lids and spill down the angels face, catching in the maze of stubble that was lightly brushed across his cheeks.

Castiel reaches out a shaking hand, placing it atop the handprint he knows lays beneath the flannel shirt covering skin he had once rebuilt atom-by-atom, giving Dean a watery smile when the hunter's breath hitches at the contact. “I don’t know much about weddings… but I can’t imagine one more perfect than that.”

Dean returns the smile with a tender one of his own, pulling out the arm that was pinned under his own body to rest his hand atop Cas’s. “Yeah… and I probably wouldn’t even need a ring – you’ve already branded ‘Property of Castiel’ right here on my arm.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at the teasing in Dean’s tone; humor was a typical fallback for Dean when in an emotional situation he didn’t know how to deal with, and Castiel was used to rolling with it at this point. “Are you saying you want it removed?”

Dean very nearly threw Castiel’s hand off his shoulder in case he was about to do exactly that. “Don’t you dare. I kind of like being your property. Next time a cougar at the bar is being a little too overenthusiastic about taking me home with her I’ll just flash her the scar, I’m sure that’ll scare her right off – If you don’t smite her on the spot, that is.”

“…Why would a feline be in a bar?”

The snort Dean makes catches even him off guard, dipping his head down to stifle his short burst of (totally manly) giggles. “Not… not that kind of cougar, Cas…” Dean barely manages to say through his chuckles, shaking his head at his, occasionally, clueless angel. “You know… part of me wishes I could give you a handprint of my own. My version of a ‘Property of Dean Winchester’ sign… Guess the ring would have to do…”

Except… except the ring wouldn’t do. Because he’ll never get to place that ring on Castiel’s finger. He’ll never stand by his side, with Sam reading him some made-up vows- because screw doing it the God-given way – and he’ll never get to flash those girls at the bar an apologetic smile and tell them ‘Sorry ladies, I’m married.’

“I’m still not completely up to date with human etiquette, but I’m fairly certain that most couples do not wish to scar their significant others?”

Oh, Cas. There you are to save the day again.

“Most people don’t fall in love with an angel,” Dean points out.

Dean leans forward at the same time as Cas, the two meeting halfway. This kiss is polar opposite from the last; it’s soft and tender, lingering touches where neither seems to want to end it, smooth and natural like they’ve been doing it all their lives.

Dean’s throat burns furiously as he smiles at Cas, hoping that if he somehow does make it to that ripe old age where you can pretty much eat only soup and spend your day's retailing stories of your youth, that his aged and concussion addled brain remembers every detail of this moment.

“And you know what, Cas? I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

* * *

The white lines of the Enochian sigil painted onto the murky grey of the concrete floor seem almost blinding, begging for his attention. The long library table had been pushed off to the side, making room for the large sigil Eileen had painstakingly painted onto the floor, both Sam and Dean hovering nearby anxiously to make sure not a single mark or line was missing.

Dean wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at it now. Long enough for Sam to throw him anxious looks from behind the library table, flittering back and forth from the table to other rooms to gather all the ingredients they needed.

Sam had been giving him those looks non-stop since they had arrived back at the bunker. Dean had come to groggily in the back of the Impala, unable to wipe away the tears that had transferred over from his dream existence to the real one before Sam has spotted them, his mouth straightening into a thin line that screamed of his need to comfort his older brother, but knowing the conversation would either get him nowhere, or a black eye.

Cas’s trench coat was draped over his legs, ready to be placed into the sigil when Sam signaled for it for the spell. None of it seemed real. Everything felt so hurried, so… ready to go, except for him. The thought that all of this would be over in a few minutes or so made him want to throw up. Either he’d lose Cas, or they’d get him back in the physical world for the first time in weeks, but he knew what the more likely outcome was here and-

“It’s ready.”

Dean jolts at Sam’s voice, glancing up to see Sam stood behind the table alongside Eileen; a sturdy wooden bowl they used for many spells sat directly in front of him whilst the few ingredients needed for the spell were situated in smaller contains, situated around the bowl on top of the table.

“Wait, hang on!” Dean calls out just as Sam is reaching for the first ingredient. “My soul!”

Sam can only frown at that, moments away from berating Dean if he were about to suggest making another deal. “…What about it?”

“Can’t angels kind of boost their grace with a soul? I mean, it’s just one form of energy converting into another, right?”

“Oh!” Sam realized in surprise, almost smacking himself atop the head for not remembering it sooner. “How did I forget about that?”

‘Dean…’

‘You can do it, right? I know you were in your body the last time you powered up from my soul, but…’

‘Yes, I can still do it, but… are you sure?’

‘What the hell is there to be sure about, Cas?’

‘Surely you remember what it was like from the last time? It’s an excruciatingly painful procedure that-,’

‘Gonna stop you right there, Cas. I don’t care how painful it is, okay? If it’s going to help you, then I’m doing it. End of discussion.’

“Cas is on board,” Dean tells Sam before Cas can argue anymore, getting a long-suffering sigh from the angel.

‘As you wish, Dean…’

“Okay, so…” Sam said, eyes darting between the ingredients in front of him. “It’s a fairly simple spell, like Rowena said. Just gotta prepare some of these ingredients first…”

Dean watches nervously as Eileen hands Sam whichever ingredients are required; a mix of herbs and rather disturbingly small animal bones that disappear into the bowl, crushed under the pestle in Sam’s giant hands.

“Alright… Now, Dean, you need to put Cas’s trench-coat in the sigil. Directly in the middle of it, if you can.”

Dean awkwardly wheels himself in between the lit white candles that were dotted along the exterior of the sigil, letting his hands brush across the scratchy material of Cas’s coat before carefully lowering it down onto the ground, spreading out the coat as much as his body would let him before wheeling himself back and out of the sigil.

“Okay… then it’s just the blood, a few words, Cas’s grace, and then… we can only wait and see.”

“Uh… Sam?”

Sam glanced up from the ingredients in his hands at Dean’s voice. “What? What is it?”

“I, uh… I was actually thinking we could try just using the grace we got from Claire first.”

Sam and Eileen turn to each other, matching expressions of both concern and surprise on the couple’s face.

“It’s the best way,” Dean tries defending himself at the sight of their faces. “Try the bit of Grace that isn’t entirely Cas first.”

“Okay…” Sam said slowly, the alarm in his voice making Dean’s chest clamp in worry. “And… and if that grace doesn’t work on its own?”

Dean swallowed deeply, somehow able to hear his own harsh swallow past the pounding of his heart. “Then… then we use the rest of Cas’s grace, powered up from my soul.”

Sam nods slowly, and Dean knows the words that are about to leave Sam’s mouth before he even says them. “And if that doesn’t work?”

Dean knew what Sam was trying to hint at. The memories he was trying to resurface, from when he practically lost himself to grief the last time Cas had died. Dean isn’t going to let him do that this time. He isn’t going to show Sam his cards.

“Then… it doesn’t work.”

Sam gives him one last stare, one last moment where his gaze seems stuck to Dean before it drops back down to the table in front of him. He clears his throat as he finishes grinding down the last of the ingredients in the bowl, taking a deep and trembling breath to steady himself as his eyes drift over the words to the spell one last time.

“You ready?” He has the courtesy of asking Dean.

‘No.’ “Yes.”

Sam’s shaking breaths may have given away his nerves, but his hands were as steady as a rock as they took the vial of blood that Eileen handed to him. The dark liquid dances around the glass vial, staining its sides with streaks of bright red as Sam carefully removes its lid.

“Acer Liquid e vita carnem Filii familiaritatem,” Sam lets the Latin roll off his tongue as the blood spills from the vial, staining the once vivid white bone powder a dark, muddy red. “Tumultus, caro est; et hoc est quod quidam uenti diuersos auctor est scriptor.”

Dean’s breath hitches in a strangled gasp as the flames of the candles first begin to flicker, blowing about like there was some sort of wind rushing past them before they begin to steadily grow in height, able to feel the heat of them against his face as they rise.

“Ad coniungere materia, quae olim pars eorum,” Sam continues, eyes fixated on the swirling glow of the grace in the vial Eileen held. With the slightest of nods from him, Eileen is uncapping the vial, directing the seemingly alive Grace towards the bowl.

“Esse vim auferre. Reversusque statim producat id quod est suum,” The grace seems to move on instinct, sliding towards the bowl instead of towards its owner, like a part of Sam was worried it would.

Sam only has a few seconds to admire the beautiful mix of white, blue, and red before the room disappears in a flash of blinding white light that has him turning away and burrowing his head into the crook of his elbow.

Dean blinks away the unexpected blindness, trying to peer past the spots in his vision to see what was going on. He can only gape in horror at the sight of…

Of flesh. Whatever was in the bowl had formed into a glob of squelching meat that seemed to crawl off the table, landing within the sigil with a wet thud. It inched itself towards the trenchcoat, burrowing itself underneath the piece of clothing, from which it seemed to…

“It’s taking shape,” Sam breaths in disbelief, pointing towards the disgusting mass on the floor. “Look!”

Sam was right. Dean could see that, underneath the cover of the trench coat, it was beginning to take form of something roughly human-like in appearance. All three of them held their breath as the mass continued to shift about on the floor, slowly forming from a ball of parts to what Dean imagined a human would look like if you only had the skeleton and a bunch of meaty colored playdough to sculpt with.

And then… it stopped.

They watched in absolute horror for a few moments as the mass stopped moving, stopped taking shape, and then… It seemed to move in reverse. It began losing its shape, pieces of flesh and muscles tearing away from it, blood seeping out from the ball of human material and smearing across the white lines of the sigil.

“It’s failing,” Sam stated the obvious, frantic eyes looking from what should have been Cas’s body to Dean. “Dean, the spell is failing. It’s not enough grace.”

Steely, determined eyes flicked up to meet his brothers, and in that moment, Sam knew. He knew what was coming, and he was powerless to stop it.

“No,” Dean said sternly, shaking his head furiously at the blob as it continued to shrink. “I’m not doing it, Cas. I’m not.”

There was a brief moment where Dean looked pained – shocked, even – before Sam saw green eyes be replaced by a flash of blue. Both Sam and Eileen could only watch on as Dean, no, Cas, pushed Dean’s body out of his wheelchair, painstakingly dragging himself towards the mass.

Then, the eyes flashed once more. Dean was back in control, teeth gritted in determination as he tried pushing himself away. “Do it, Cas! DO IT! TAKE CONTROL! KILL ME!”

A flash again. Cas, once more, letting the tears that had been building in Dean’s eyes slip over. HE can only shake his head at Dean’s screams – that of which Sam had no doubt he was having to hear within his own mind, as he continued crawling towards his body inch by inch with Dean’s arms.

It wasn’t enough. Another burst of blue, another moment of control by Dean. Only this time… he didn’t pull back. He wasn’t moving forward either, just laid out on the floor, gasping for breath as his sobs caught in his throat. “Please… Cas, I can’t do this without you, I-,”

Dean goes silent. His own sobs more muted now, trying to listen to the words Castiel was speaking in his mind. “Don’t say it now…” Sam hears Dean beg to Cas, not sure whether he wanted to know what Cas was saying, hoping that whatever it is, it gets through to his brother.

“Don’t say it when…” Is all Dean can get out before another sob wrenches from his lungs. “Fuck… Okay… Okay… I love you, too. You know I do.”

Eileen’s hand is gripped tightly around his, the only reminder he’s not alone in watching his brother go through what must likely be some of the worst pain in his life. Seeing physical vulnerability from his brother was one thing, but this? This was something else entirely. He just wanted for Cas to be okay. He wanted for his brother to be okay.

Please… Please, let them be okay.

Dean began moving forward again. Dean this time, not Cas. Something was sticking out from the mass, something vaguely arm shaped, and Dean flopped next to the beginnings of Castiel’s body, rolling onto his back on the hard concrete floor and turning his head to the side to face it. When Dean’s eyes flash blue again, Sam knows it is not because of a change in possession. Dean’s ear-piercing scream of agony is proof of that, the horrifying sound reverberating around the large rooms of the bunker as the glow of grace Castiel grows brighter and brighter.

And then, when Sam didn’t think it was possible for Castiel to glow any brighter than he was, Dean’s hand reaches out and intertwines with the hand of the being. Dean’s veins glow with that bright blue of angel grace, traveling from his chest down his arm, crossing over to the being which begins glowing with its own streaks of grace.

It pulsates one last time, and then…

The room explodes. One big ball of light, expanding out from the mass on the floor. Sam found himself instinctively turning towards Eileen, shielding her with his body. He had been expecting to be hit by a wave of heat, along with that solid wall of force that typically comes from such explosions, throwing them across the room.

None of that happens, however. As the light begins to fade, Sam unpeels himself from Eileen, glancing over his shoulder to what he thought would be a crater in the middle of the room. The sigil is still intact, though the candles had been blown out by the explosion of light. Dean was blinking furiously on the floor, still sprawled out on his back as he rubbed his burning eyes. He hadn’t noticed yet. He hadn’t noticed that there, right next to him on the ground, was a body.

Lying amongst the sigil, as naked as the day he was born – or at least, his vessel was born… was Cas. His trench-coat at least saved some of his modesty, acting as a blanket that the fresh body was curled under.

“Cas?” Dean croaks out at the sight of him. He scrambled towards Cas as fast as his arms would let him, cursing his useless legs for slowing him down as he pulls himself towards the angel – if he still was one, that is.

Beads of sweat roll down Dean’s temple as he reaches Cas's side, slipping his hands under Cas’s body and heaving him up onto his lap as he sits up as best he can. The dead-weight of Castiel under his hands has his chest squeezing tight with fear, the seconds that tick by without a response from Cas being the most torturous of his life. His eyes search frantically around Castiel’s face for a sign of life, met with closed eyes instead of the dazzling blue that never fails to take his breath away.

Dean’s gaze drops down to Castiel’s chest. There was…nothing. No movement, no steady rise and fall as Cas takes in his first breaths in a new, yet familiar, vessel.

“C’mon, Cas…” Dean whispers down to his angel. His hand rests on Castiel’s chest, waiting to feel that reassuring ‘thud’ of a heartbeat against his hand. The skin under his touch is firm, but stone cold. Castiel’s heart remains silent in his chest. “I need you to wake up, Cas. Okay? I need you to wake up for me.”

Dean can’t control the trembling of his fingers as they run through Castiel’s hair, his other arm pulling Castiel closer to him as his body is wracked with more sobs he has no hope of holding back. “Please… Don’t do this to me, Cas. I don’t wanna do this without you. Don’t… don’t leave me… I still need you… Please…”

Castiel remains still.

Next Chapter - - - >

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel fix it #destiel fix it fic #fix it fic #castiel/dean #castiel/dean winchester #casdean #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers

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askthematsunovs · 4 years ago

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Osomatu Matsunov The eldest of the Matsunov Sextuplets, he is the self-proclaimed leader of his brothers and the current heir to the Matsunov castle. As a result he tends to act like he owns the place, albeit in a very lackadaisical way. Unlike some of his other brothers, he makes absolutely no effort to leave the confines of the castle to hunt or to look into vampiric powers. He playfully mentions things like “nobility having to work should be a crime” when in reality he’s just really lazy, a rather deadly trait for a vampire considering their constant need for fresh blood, regardless of social standing. He’s incredibly shameless but ultimately has a kind heart and wishes the best for his brothers in their search for vampiric powers and skills, becoming genuinely excited for them each time a new one is discovered. Osomatu’s unique vampire power is the ability to turn into a demonic, beastial Old World Vampire form, implying he has incredible potential as the only known vampires able to use an Old World form have been the leaders of the Vampire Consul, including famed former Vampire King, Dracula. It should be noted that while Karamatu also has a beastial form, his is not Old World based and is more closely related to lycanthropy.

Karamatu Matsunov The second eldest of the Matsunov Sextuplets, Karamatu is not quite as boisterous or shameless as Osomatu but still has some un-vampirelike tendencies that make him almost equally useless. Despite not knowing anything about humans, he unwittingly plays into their stereotypes of vampires due to his histrionic and dramatic behavior, usually citing random prose and poetry in an effort to appear “sexy” or “cool” along with randomly posing and throwing basic French words into his everyday speech. He seems to know of the human culture portrayed in a few fairytales but, like his brothers, has absolutely no idea what real humans are like. Instead of learning about his vampire heritage as a child, he chose to read human stories, finding them much more fascinating, though seeing as really only a couple human-written books existed in the Matsunov library, he ended up reading the same couple of stories over and over again, thus making him believe humans were two-dimensional and simple. His mimicking (or rather his idea) of “human behavior” is apparent in his attempts to look at himself in a mirror despite having no reflection. Karamatu’s unique vampire power is the ability to shapeshift into a large, muscular werewolf form. It is not common for vampires to be able to shapeshift into wolves, but also not unheard of as a werewolf was one of Dracula’s many forms. Because of his connection to lycanthropy, Karamatu is able to commune with werewolves without them becoming hostile, like they would with most other vampires, their sworn enemies.

Choromatu Matsunov The third eldest of the Matsunov Sextuplets, Choromatu appears to be the only brother concerned with actually looking into their vampire heritage and vampiric potential after their parents leave for the Capital, not wanting any of them to starve. He also tries to take his research on humans further than Karamatu, focusing on learning about their biology and abilities rather than only reading their lore or poetry. Of course, given the limited source material in the Matsunov library on humans, Choromatu usually just ends up looking like a fool, acting like he knows more about humans than the others when really his knowledge is just as limited. He also tends to be a hypocrite, confidently stating that humans are no more intelligent than cattle only to, mere hours later, grovel somewhat pathetically in the presence of an attractive human woman. He also claims that relying on thralls alone would be dishonorable and yet once he discovers his unique vampire power, relies almost entirely on thralls for blood. Even more damning is his eventual discovery and later fanatical obsession with human opera singers. Despite acting like he’s above the others in terms of honor, intelligence, and nobility, at heart, he’s a Matsunov and trying to pretend like he isn’t doesn’t do him much good. Still though, out of all the brothers, he does end up making the most discoveries regarding vampire powers and ultimately is the most knowledgeable about things like vampire culture, science and humans, even if it’s not by much more. Despite his insistence that a reliance on thralls is dishonorable, Choromatu’s unique vampire power is to create thralls en masse. Thralls are soulless husks of humans that can be used for feeding on, manual labor, and other mindless tasks.

Ichimatu Matsunov The fourth eldest son of the Matsunov Sextuplets, Ichimatu is somewhat of a black sheep, even by vampire and Matsunov standards. Despite his gloomy and morose disposition, he’s actually the most harmless of the brothers and has much less of a desire to feed from humans. His lack of a desire to feed on human blood implies that he has a condition referred to by vampires as Şeptelbea (pronounced “Shep-tel-bee”), in which a vampire is able to maintain their vampiric powers through animal blood alone, usually livestock, at the cost of having general lethargy, sluggishness and overall tiredness. While he can drink human blood (and still does at times) and gain the same benefits a regular vampire would, he doesn’t care for the taste and he doesn’t care for how wired it makes him feel, suggesting that human blood to him is like a large amount of caffeine to a human, energizing him at first but causing him to completely crash, whereas animal blood seems to keep him more balanced. How Ichimatu became a Şeptelbea while his five identical brothers did not is unknown but suggests Şeptelbeaism occurs outside the womb and is not based in genetics or blood relation. Ironically, his favorite things are in fact animals, especially cats and bats. He prefers them much more to the company of both humans and vampires and isn’t much for conversation. In fact, he is the only Matsunov brother with a familiar, a little orange cat that is bound to him spiritually. The cat doesn’t need to be with him at all times though and unlike him is able to survive during the day. His disinterest in human blood also means that despite being seen as “cursed” or “afflicted” by other vampires (except his family of course), humans are much more accepting of him and thus, ironically, he has the easiest time out of all of his brothers speaking to humans without getting “weird about it” as he describes it. Not surprisingly, Ichimatu’s unique vampire power is the ability to command animals to do his bidding. He usually uses bats for this as they tend to be readily available in large groups already, but he wouldn’t mind having an army of cats either.

Jyushimatu Matsunov The fifth eldest and second youngest son of the Matsunov Sextuplets, Jyushimatu is the wildcard of the family. He’s loud, wild, energetic, and seems to delight in confusing the hell out of other people. Deep down though, he really just wants to be able to make people he cares about laugh. Despite being a vampire, his disposition is sunny and cheerful, albeit silly. There really isn’t a way to explain why he does the things he does sometimes. For example, rather than opening the lid of his coffin when he wakes up, he just punches through it, requiring one of the other brothers to have to fix it every sunrise before he goes to bed. Out of all the brothers, he seems to be the most naturally attuned to his innate powers. He’s technically the first to show a vampire power through his super strength and eventually starts floating on his own, changing into a bat randomly, retracting and un-retracting his teeth repeatedly for fun, hanging upside down, etc. He seems to be the most excited to use his powers and is the one to use them the most, even in casual conversation. When is he going to turn into a bat? Who knows! When is he going to just start floating and hitting his head on the ceiling mid-conversation? Who knows! The brothers seem to be pretty used to his behavior though, not really commenting on it or seeing it as anything out of the ordinary for him. Jyushimatu’s unique vampire power is the ability to turn himself into sentient fog. This is especially useful when slipping through otherwise impossibly small cracks or crevices, re-materializing on the other side. He can also turn certain parts of his body to fog while still keeping the rest of his body physical. Although not unique to him, Jyushimatu floats around significantly more than the other Matsunovs and seems to prefer it to regular walking.

Todomatu Matsunov The youngest of the Matsunov Sextuplets, Todomatsu is perhaps the least helpless of his brothers when it comes to behaving like a vampire. He’s well-mannered, polite, sociable, and charming, a stark contrast to the others. On the rare occasions that the brothers speak to other vampires, Todomatu is the one doing the most socializing. He doesn’t mind bending the truth to make himself appear more impressive than he actually is, sometimes lying about his kill counts or about how he’s been doing his own hunts for years. His charm can sometimes be a detriment though, as he often gets himself stuck in situations where he has to keep up a lie or facade. Like Osomatu, he’s not very interested in humans but, unlike Osomatu, is also smart enough to realize they’re a potential real threat and that they shouldn’t be underestimated. It takes him quite a while to get used to the idea of having to hunt his own prey after his parents take their trip. Despite his charm, he can also be quite spoiled and childish when he doesn’t get what he wants, expecting to be pampered as the youngest sibling. He’s an opportunist and often takes advantage of situations in a way that will benefit him most. He isn’t heartless though, and genuinely loves all of his brothers, wanting to help them succeed in attaining vampiric powers and skills. Todomatu’s unique vampire power is blood manipulation or bloodbending. He can psychically manipulate the bodies and blood of any creature, even once it’s outside the body. Though he doesn’t usually, this gives him the power to puppeteer living things and control their bodies, as well as the ability to stop peoples’ circulation and cause heart attacks without ever even touching a person. This arguably makes him one of the most dangerous members of the Matsunov family, but luckily, he doesn’t use his powers very often. For the most part, he’ll use it to levitate blood from across the room to his mouth so that he doesn’t have to get up.

Grand Vampire Princess Ava The somewhat recently appointed ruler of vampirekind, she has yet to be officially coronated due to the Vampire Consul insisting she find a consort in a defensive measure after the tragic “Mortal Uprising” that resulted in the previous king’s death, with the logic being that two powerful vampires would be much harder to kill than one. She had already been chosen as Dracula’s successor shortly after she was born and was thus trained by both him and the Vampire Consul for most of her life, rarely getting to leave the Royal Castle or interact much with other vampires. Just as she came of age (for vampires), the “Mortal Uprising” occurred and resulted in the deaths of King Dracula and prominent members of the Vampire Consul, causing the remaining Vampire Consul members and vampirekind as a whole to go into a panic at the unexpected event. Without much time to plan or coordinate, Ava was quickly appointed as ruler in an attempt to avoid further panic among vampire society. Despite sitting on the throne, she has not been coronated yet and thus remains a princess with little actual power. The Vampire Consul currently takes care of all the political and legal affairs of the vampires and has done so for as long as Ava has reigned, about 50 years or so, which is of course considered very recent in vampire terms. Her current duty given to her by the consul is to find a consort among vampire nobility in order to be officially coronated and become queen.

Emma Emma is a peasant girl who lived in the village by the Matsunov castle with her father, who was also her only living relative, until he mysteriously disappeared while on his way to do business in the Capital. The other villagers figured he was killed by the monsters in the forest and held a funeral for him. Sadly, she could not make enough money on her own to keep the house and ended up homeless as a result, becoming well known for doing odd jobs around the village in return for food or shelter. Villagers noted her failing health from her homelessness and suggested she try to become part of the local brothel like many of the other homeless and destitute women usually did. Scared she would have no other option, her luck turned around when she met Karamatu Matsunov after his inability to kill her. The two made a pact that in return for providing the Matsunovs with blood, they would give her food and shelter. She is the first live human that the Matsunovs have encountered and thus tasks herself with teaching them about humans and human culture due to their inexperience. She also inadvertently teaches the Matsunov brothers that humans are more than just “cattle,” and that they too have sentience and emotions. Since moving to Matsunov Castle, Emma takes care of the place during the day, as well as taking occasional visits to the village to buy supplies for both herself and the brothers. She’ll often return from her weekly visits to the village with human books and souvenirs for the brothers to help them in their quest to understand humans and human culture. So far she has been an incredibly helpful friend to the Matsunovs and in return she is treated with kindness and respect, even to the point of the brothers willing to go hungry if they find out her health is failing from blood loss. However, she must be kept a secret from other vampires as befriending humans is seen as strange and pathetic and goes against basic vampire traditions.

#characters #character page #character list #ooc

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draganasimpsforjeff · 4 years ago

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Hunting Dogs: Chapter Seven (proxies x reader)

Age was nothing but a number to them and most, if not, all the time it meant nothing. Like part of the human race, you can die at any moment but you take precautions and you try not to be a dumbass and take care of yourself and you'll be fine. Every year was celebrated with a birthday, announcing that you were still alive to your loved ones.

But when you're a proxy, there is nothing to celebrate. If there was, it was just to get by another day. They didn't live life by miles and those are limitless and no one knows when those miles will stop. For proxies, if you reached the age of 25, it was like a big deal in a way that not many men got to see or get to. Yes, in the mansion there are countless beings older than such, but there was less pressure as there was on these three men.

It was complete hell for Hoodie and Masky when they first started as Slender thought he would need to test every aspect of them in anyway he could, even if that meant putting them near death. But, they are over the age of 25. Although, don't be a complete idiot if you think that makes them safer. It doesn't. It just means they got past a milestone that a great percentage didn't have the opportunity to get to. Toby was the youngest out of them, 23, almost 24. But hell, no great being like a Slenderman could threaten to ruin his life when the damn boy does it to himself everyday. The only difference is that He could make it the ultimate ending and act like Toby never existed and he would expect the same from others.

So, in ways the three men relationship was complicated, much like a Zeppelin Bend, when they worked together they were stable, so tight-knit that they knew each other's next move, thoughts, feelings.etc., they could be stable when they wanted to and be the scariest goddamn creatures ever known to man. But, if something was in the way or their thoughts didn't link together, the connection between all three was nonexistent. Like it wasn't bad enough that after a good day and a mission completed, they would cut the cord so fucking quick and lash out, becoming blood thirsty monsters that just wanted each other dead.

And who could blame them? The stress of them job mixed in with their emotions, the need to survive, and whether or not a mission was high-impact or not they were expected and felt the need to have the right. And you wanna know what their treat was for not fucking up? Not a nice dinner, no hot baths with bubbles, no 'here take a day or two to rest' or any bullshit like that. It was, Congratulations! You get to live another day! Now go back to your dim lit rooms with just a desk, bed, nightstand and closet, that half the time it looks like they had nothing to themselves. Whatever they had, they could fit in a backpack, but what was the point of personalizing a room to your liking for your own self expression when there was a chance you could be gone and hell... they didn't even know who they were, self identity was a crucial factor here.

Sure, they may remember bits and pieces of what they like or, rather, what they thought they liked, but it was all blurry and covered in smudges, like imagine going to see ophthalmologist and instead of having you look through lens to correct your vision, it's worse and it's covered in black shit, yeah, that was basically they're mind. Amnesia though was the worst for Masky, but not like it was new to him at all. he suffered through it during his childhood and teenage years up till now. Hoodie just stopped caring even though he does miss his life in college and he became so invested in his study of Psychology and maybe that's something that comes in handy with this job, studying emotions, body language, and movement from a person or anything to be honest, the best course of action, why someone may be acting a certain way(most of this thought goes towards Toby) Masky lets himself be easy to read, even with the mask, nothing could hide an animal like him...unless sedated. Although, Hoodie does remember Alex and how he was no longer Brian..okay well, he was Brian, but...not the same.

It's life, going through life lessons and you're in the process of character development, it was like that but it happened so quick for him that he was like a switch, he doesn't remember the last time he felt 'normal'.

Now, Toby. It was like a slow boil, adding in ingredients, not following recipe and wondering what was gonna be created. So much had happened to him with bullies, his step dad and whoever else wanted to get on his nerves. He didn't have much but Lyra and that was pretty much all he remembers now. Bits and pieces of his past, only just enough to make sense of why he should be grateful for Slender and why Toby has taken this position among the proxies. But he didn't mind it so much, why the fuck would he want to remember his past- apart from Lyra. Yeah, sure it hurt and feels like there is a piece of him missing all the time, but, at least there was a reason for him being so unhinged.

"Wake up, Tobs." Hoodie says, kicking the edge of the mattress a little, trying to stir Toby awake with his best ability to not also make him upset. If there was one thing that he could agree with Masky on, it's that Toby becomes the biggest dick ever when forced to wake up- that or he's whiny. He got no response back from Toby and he sighs, kicking again, but again, no response. "Dammit...Masky, did you force the sleeping pills down his throat?' He growls, looking over his shoulder at Masky who was leaning against the wall by the door.

"And have the possibility of me having to carry him around like a limp dick that he is? No thanks. Maybe he just hasn't gotten enough sleep lately." he shrugs. Hoodie sighs, nodding as he looks down at Toby, who as he was an active sleeper, his legs were tangled up in the blankets, pillow tossed over his face, his body angled in a weird way and the bed sheets were pulled off.

"NO!" he suddenly shot up, the pillow flying and his eyes widened and like he was out of his mind, psychotic almost, but Hoodie knew better. He rushes over as the younger one breathes heavily, cold sweat breaking around his skin as he starts to shake. Hoodie sits near his legs, making sure to get in his line of vision. He doesn't snap or touch him as that would trigger Toby and it's not a good thing to snap someone out of an episode like this. "Hey, hey.. It's okay, You're safe." Hoodie says softly, moving his gloves hands in different motions and directions, making Toby focus in and follow them. "Breathe, inhale...1..2..3...hold...1...2..3..4 exhale." he continues this for a few more minutes until he knows that Toby's breathing was back to normal and was blinking, looking around at his surroundings, bringing himself back to reality.

"T-thanks. " He mumbles, he hates having to get help over something he should know how to deal with already. He's had these fucking nightmares for years and yet, they always feel like the first time and remain fresh on his mind until he snaps out of it. Masky swallows thickly, watching the two with mild interest before noticing the change outside. "It's not raining anymore." he says, making the other two look at the nearest window and nod, agreeing. "Let's get back to the mansion. Grab the things we need and see if BEN can figure anything with the girl." He says, standing up slowly from the bed as his back still hurts from when he fell off the ledge. He recovered mostly, thanks to Slender but his spine did give him a hard time whenever he had to bend a certain way. He use to be the type of sleeper to be on his back, but after the injury he had to figure out another way to sleep.

The men got situated, tightening their shoes and securing their items. Medication check, gun and bullets check, making sure they didn't leave anything behind of theirs or something that they may have missed in the apartment before leaving.

It was still chilly and their clothes were damp, but it was better than nothing and they were sure they spotted a laundry mat a few blocks down. Masky collected some quarters around the house so, at least they could get their hoodies warm and dry. After that, they made their way to the mansion.

"I don't know ma, I already paid for the room so I might as well use it." your mom called you this morning, wanting to visit you or vice versa. She thought that you could use a little break from working so hard and being 'so alone' at your place. Which, you appreciate the thought and could definitely get away from all the bullshit that was happening, but you were scared to go back to your apartment and pack what you needed. Plus, you didn't know if the men were there and just waiting for you. The thought makes goosebumps spread over your arms and neck, rubbing it nervously as you were forming an ache from the cheap bed. "I know, honey, but here, I can pay you the money you spent and take you out. It's been a very long time since I've seen you and I miss you sooooo much." you couldn't help but smile at that. Who could say no to getting paid for the money they wasted, getting spoiled and whatever else would happen.

For fucks sake, it wouldn't hurt you and you wouldn't have to think about being hunted and feeling like you can't close your eyes for even a few hours of sleep. "Okay, well, you know I don't have a car-"

"I'll pick you up. Just give me the address again and I'll be there in a few hours, mama had lots of coffee." she giggles, making you shake your head as she was a bit hyper when she has more than three cups of coffee. "Alright, just be careful. I'll text you the address." you say, stuffing items back into your bag and grabbing your keys and wallet, letting your pockets swallow them. "Okay, bye, love you." she says and you say the same, hanging up.

You blow out a breath, making your bangs lift up a little as you muster enough courage, picking up the bag and leaving the hotel room.

Please let things go back to normal.

#Hunting Dogs #HuntingDogs #proxies x reader #creepypasta x reader #cp headcanons

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Guilty Gear: 15 Most Powerful Characters

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Guilty Gear has one of the more ridiculous storylines in fighting games. A beautiful-looking series with a fantastic cast of heroes and villains, the sci-fi anime aesthetic lends itself to some wacky concepts.

The broad strokes of the series aren’t all that bizarre, as it tells a pretty basic story overall. In a world where magic was discovered, three scientists accidentally unleashed a new type of species that led to a lengthy war between these creatures (Gears) and humanity. One scientist became a genocidal monster, one a grizzled anti-hero, and another a mysterious wildcard watching over everything. Eventually, the war ended and peace reigned, but the possibility of the war reigniting is a constant threat.

That’s not too out there on its own. Except the story also features a large vigilante doctor who wears a paper bag to hide his identity as a crazed serial killer. There’s a ninja who gets elected President of the United States, only to later figure out it would be easier to just start his own country. There’s a comatose boy in a weaponized bed whose personality is a mix between Freddy Krueger and Mandark from Dexter’s Lab. There’s a yoyo-wielding bounty hunter, a time-traveling Axl Rose knockoff, a dandy vampire, an assassin who uses reality-bending billiards as a fighting style, and so on.

Shit gets weird.

With Guilty Gear Strive finally out on store shelves, giving us the long-awaited final battle between Sol Badguy and That Man, it’s time to take a look at the most powerful beings in the Guilty Gear universe. One character I’m leaving off the list is Leopaldon from Guilty Gear Isuka. Not only is the game not canon, but even WHAT Leopaldon is (a dog and a wizard piloting a yeti?) isn’t well-explained. But if you want Leopaldon, he’s definitely on our official ranking of all the characters in the series.

Anyway, here the most powerful characters in Guilty Gear:

15. IZUNA

Izuna, a hero introduced in Guilty Gear 2, is a bit on the mysterious side, but there’s enough information to make it apparent that he’s someone to take serious. Not only is he over 500 years old, but he resides in the Backyard, an environment so uninhabitable that most others would be crushed by its magical atmosphere. He’s skilled as a swordsman, and his teleportation abilities are said to be equal to the strength of several hundred mages combined.

It’s presumed that Izuna didn’t show up in Guilty Gear Xrd because Ariels saw him as such a threat to her plans that she sealed him away and kept him out of play before her schemes could really kick into gear. That’s quite the compliment, in a roundabout way.

14. RAVEN

Raven is all about experience and durability. He simply can’t die, can contort himself, and is unable to feel pain. Even his Instant Kill sees him summon energy that engulf him and his opponent, which turns his enemy to dust while he simply lives to fight another day. He also has control over spatial magic in a way that makes Faust look like a novice. He’s absolutely a force to be reckoned with no matter what character he’s up against.

Still, resilience can only get you so far. When you get down to it, he’s comparable to someone like Deadpool or Wolverine, albeit with an even stronger healing factor and some magic bells and whistles. He may live to fight again, but he can still be overwhelmed and defeated with the right strategy. Guys like Slayer and Dizzy might not be able to completely annihilate him, but they can presumably contain him.

13. THE VALENTINE SERIES

The initial Valentine was the final boss in Guilty Gear 2 and Ramlethal Valentine was the boss in Guilty Gear Xrd -Sign-. They, along with Elphelt Valentine and Jack-O Valentine, are treated as crucial parts of the series.

Yet, they just…never really do anything that justifies ranking them higher on this list. Plus I have to lump them together because it’s hard to really compare them when they can apparently shut off each other’s powers.

Then again, I guess the original Valentine is the alpha of the group as she could upgrade her form a couple times over for the sake of final boss battles. Not that it did her any good.

12. I-NO

I-No is a tough one to figure out. Guilty Gear XX introduces her as a major threat, and a mysterious one at that. Her origin isn’t explored at first, and by the time the series explains what the hell she is (some kind of being the universe created out of everyone’s wishes for a better tomorrow?), it doesn’t really give her much context as a combatant. That said, “Manipulating probability” is one of her powers, making her pretty damn formidable when combined with her almost unlimited battle experience and toughness.

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Even though she’s treated as the boss character in Guilty Gear XX and spends the story messing with everyone, Guilty Gear XX Accent Core lets the rest of the cast catch up to her. Most of her endings involve her being defeated and even killed by those she just beat in-game. For instance, I-No defeats Baiken in-game but then Baiken just gets back up and murders her.

11. BAIKEN AND ANJI MITO

These two are so intertwined and comparable that they’ll have to share a spot. As I already mentioned, they both own I-No no matter who wins the in-game battle, which I’m going to take as a sign that they’re simply superior to her on the battlefield. Both are part of the series’ interesting subplot where people of Japanese descent are both incredibly rare, but also teeming with energy. Unlike May, these two have actually tapped into their genetic potential.

But it has its limits. Baiken has been demolished by Justice in the past, and her attempts to get revenge on That Man only ended in frustration when she couldn’t land a single hit. And he wasn’t even fighting back!

10. KLIFF UNDERSN

Poor Kliff is one of those old school fighting game characters who dies in his own ending, therefore dying in canon. Not that it’s surprising, considering he’s entering a fighting tournament in his late 80s. Still, Kliff is a legend and made a name for himself during much of the war against Justice. Sure, he was taken off the board before we could see how well he’d measure up to some of the younger warriors, but according to canon, Kliff survived at least 16 encounters with Justice.

He couldn’t seal the deal, but surviving against Justice that many times is too impressive not to give him a spot on this list. It’s not like Justice is the kind to spare a defeated foe out of respect. Kliff had to earn his survival time and time again.

9. KY KISKE

Ky Kiske has spent the entire series getting the short straw when compared to his rival and co-protagonist Sol. As Sol’s power keep creeping upwards and making him more and more OP with each new installment, Ky is just off to the side, feeling sorry for himself. He is still more than capable, but on paper, he just can’t hang with the likes of Sol and the other heavy hitters.

The epilogue for Guilty Gear Xrd suddenly shone a new light on Ky, though. Sol fought alongside Ky during the Crusades and saw what he was capable of. It looked nothing like the man he dueled with on multiple occasions across their adventures. Ky then admitted the truth: he had been holding back all this time because, while he may want to defeat Sol, he doesn’t want to kill him and those are two very different fighting strategies for him. Ky may not be some kind of nuclear option in battle, but if he truly wanted to, he could kill you 10 times before you hit the ground.

8. SLAYER

From his first appearance, Slayer made his mark as the retired assassin who was simply too strong for this shit. He’s more of an interested onlooker than a major player and usually only gets involved for the sake of his own amusement. With his otherworldly biology and centuries of experience, Slayer is rarely shown to be in any real peril. Even in defeat, he lies awake and bored, suggesting that he lost only because he allowed it.

It takes a while, but we do eventually get to see some measure of his potential. He’s casual about danger, but there are threats out there that could at the very least make him break a sweat. That’s basically the rest of this list.

7. BEDMAN

Bedman spends the first half of Guilty Gear Xrd -Sign- making his way through the rest of the roster. Depicted as an enigmatic being who fights his enemies both physically and mentally (and is near unstoppable on both fronts), Bedman not only overpowers series regulars, but is able to take on multiple opponents at once while still making them look like the underdogs.

The moment that truly shows how dangerous Bedman is when he comes across Slayer. At first, we get the idea that it’s a stalemate and that Slayer may be up against someone worthy of his effort. Then, sometime later, we see Bedman standing triumphantly over Slayer, Millia, and Venom, who all lie at his feet. And after that, he still keeps going, taking out Faust and Chipp while forcing Johnny to escape. Dude is scary.

6. PRESIDENT GABRIEL

Gabriel showed up in Potemkin’s ending, and since then Arc System Works has been playing up how incredible he is while never, ever putting him in a game! It’s outright maddening. Make him a DLC character or something. We’ve been waiting decades!

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He’s a man Potemkin looks up to and confides in by the end of the first game. Then they introduce Slayer and tease tease this nigh-unbeatable immortal is Gabriel’s rival. It isn’t until Guilty Gear Xrd that it really becomes apparent how tough this guy is. After the story spent all this time building up Bedman, Gabriel completely clowns him like nobody’s business.

That’s what you get for killing that dog, you comatose asshole.

5. SOL BADGUY

Every now and then, fiction gives us a character so powerful that even trying to make them cease to exist does nothing. Blow up Darkseid with anti-matter, use magic to erase the Sentry, go back in time and destroy the MacGuffin that makes Apocalypse immortal, etc. They somehow just exist in spite of that. Sol is on that level. I-No once sent him back in time, had him kill his younger self, and Sol simply shrugged off the paradox. The dude is ridiculous.

Sol grows more powerful in each game and even then we’re told that he’s holding back. By the time the dust settles, he’ll probably be worthy of #1 post on the list, but right now, he’s just a high-ranking, angry fellow who’s important enough to be what the series’ bizarre title is named after.

4. JUSTICE

Despite being killed off in the first game, Justice is the constant source of dread in Guilty Gear’s story. Many of the games have revolved around the threat of Justice’s return, whether it’s getting her daughter to follow in her footsteps, cloning, or even resurrection. And yes, Justice is bad news because when she was active, she led a war against mankind that lasted 101 years. She only lost because she was sealed away.

After being released from her prison, Justice was eventually done in by Sol Badguy, the only Gear to predate her creation. It could be said that Sol took her out when she was weakened, but it could also be said that Sol was holding back.

Regardless, I’m going to rank Justice higher because of of her mental control over the entire Gear race, Sol excluded. Yeah, that’s a pretty major weapon to have in your back pocket, even if it doesn’t really come into play in a one-on-one fighting game. Sol was lucky to be in a situation where he could take her out before she could call in the reserves.

3. DIZZY

Dizzy makes me think of when someone is writing a Justice League story and has to come up with a reason for Superman to not be around, like he’s busy in space or off in another dimension. Dizzy isn’t the protagonist of Guilty Gear, but she is the daughter of two of the most powerful characters, and is mainly held back by plot contrivance and her attempts at pacifism. If she wanted to, she could wipe the floor with practically anyone, and there’s even an alternate reality (one where Ky died during the Crusades) that shows her embracing her potential and leading the Gears to victory against humanity.

Her so-called “Instant Kill” in Guilty Gear Xrd paints the best picture. Dizzy reluctantly fires a projectile that misses its mark, but leaves a horrifying mushroom cloud in the distance. Her freaked out opponents can only survey the damage, slowly turn to her, and surrender. Again, that’s what she’s capable of when holding back.

2. ASUKA R. KREUZ/THAT MAN

I can’t think of a more ambitious concept for a fighting game character than That Man. He’s alluded to in Sol Badguy’s ending in the first Guilty Gear game, making you imagine he’ll be the final boss of the next game or maybe the one after that. Instead, he makes mysterious appearances in the Guilty Gear X games. We never get a good look at him, but we see that he’s capable of easily slapping aside anyone who gets in his way. Then he pops up in Guilty Gear 2, including in a boss battle where Dragon Install Sol Badguy can’t even dent him. The Guilty Gear Xrd series gives him a little more dimension, finally revealing his true face and name.

Now it’s time for Guilty Gear Strive where maybe, just maybe, That Man will be DLC down the line. Maybe. Since the beginning, the series has been building to a climactic battle between Sol Badguy and Asuka R. Kreuz. As it is right now, That Man has proved to be higher on the food chain than his old scientist colleague, but that kind of uphill battle is expected.

1. ARIELS

Guilty Gear 2 and Guilty Gear Xrd -Sign- built up “Mother,” the force behind the Valentines and the one signing Bedman’s checks. At the end of -Sign-, we found out that the big mastermind is…a lady Pope possessed by a divine force. Sure, why not. Then in the next game, we got to see her go from putting on a professional and benevolent face for the public to going on a killing spree, painting her face like a juggalo, and ranting about how humanity is redundant and needs to be done away with.

Once again, Ariels would have made for a kickass final boss in Guilty Gear Xrd Revelator, but she remained part of story mode only. She was eventually taken down, but it took Sol Badguy, Ky Kiske, Sin Kiske, and That Man teaming up to do it. But as revealed in Guilty Gear Strive, she’s still alive!

What is your ranking of the most powerful Guilty Gear fighters? Let us know in the comments!

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