#so he put a lot of that guilt into the curse which is his reason for lashing out

[witchlingcirce]

Me trying to explain to everyone that Will’s curse DOES make sense and it isn’t that stupid

[arolesbianism]

Also I've finally properly pinned down the Midas and Mascot lore tm and I'm so happy abt that except for the fact that I still need to design their mom and I still need to give her a name before I can go all in on the big boy lore drops I wanna do

[xotoru]

Bad Listenerׂׂૢ

✿₊⊹Wc:1.5k ✿₊⊹Warnings:None!

Megumi was always an observer.no matter how much you didn’t think he was paying attention or that he wasn’t interested in whatever you were saying, he most definitely was.every syllable that slipped from your lips when you ranted about things you liked and didn’t like registered in his brain slowly as he never left one out.

It was why he seemed to just be so good at everything.any sort of gift, he knew what to get.anytime you were in the car, he knew what artist to play, whenever you said you were hungry, he knew where you would probably want to go eat.it was almost concerning at first.

You never put 2 and 2 together though.simply assuming that he remembered offhandedly that you mentioned liking that artist, or maybe he was just in the mood for the same restaurant as you all of the time.maybe he has a technique for mind reading?anything was possible when you would look at him through your long rants or complaints and he would have the same flat like expression on his face, yet he always retained what you said.

You had simply thought nothing more than he was just not good at listening. 

“Pass me the aux” You ask as he buckle your seatbelt in the passenger seat of the car.he does as you say, holding the white charger out for you to take.you thank him silently before looking down at your phone to find a playlist.once you find what you were looking for you set your phone down and pick your head up as he begins driving.

For a moment your eyes stayed locked on him.admiring him as he backed out of the dark parking lot, putting his arm around your seat and looking back in order to pull out of the tightly knit space.as much as you wanted to look away you couldn’t.he always had you in a trance the second you would lay eyes in him.

As he sat normally again you quickly looked away so he wouldn’t notice your creepy staring.the soft hum of your music played as you both drove home.it was fairly late in the night and Tokyo streets were packed, per usual.if you had been driving with anyone else they would’ve been cursing and yelling the whole time.but not him.he simply remained calm and collected, somehow.

After sitting in traffic for some time you couldn’t help but feel bad for making him come out tonight.it had been your idea to go out into the city.you knew he didn’t care and just wanted to make you happy, that was all he ever wanted to do.but for some strange reasons the feeling of guilt for having him push through traffic just cause you wanted to get out of the dorms was looming.

Before you could stop yourself you spoke up. “Sorry, I didn’t know there would be all this traffic” you found yourself saying suddenly, breaking the somewhat silent air between you two.although it was often like that with him, it was never awkward or intimidating.it was always simply tranquil.

He looked over at you for a moment before turning back to the cars ahead.large hands clasping the steering wheel in such a calm manner it made your heart flutter the second you noticed it. “What’re you sorry for?” He asked as he kept his eyes on the steadying traffic.Your slouched figure against the corner of the car seat seemed to dig deeper into the small crevice as it was almost embarrassing to explain yourself like this.

As you fidgeted with your fingers you answered, “I made you come out into the city tonight..." you mumbled, a slight hint of shame lacing your typically care free voice while you spoke. although it might've been a figment of your imagination but you swear you could see his often flat face contort slightly into one that was unreadable.were you crazy? Was this just his normal face and you never noticed? or did he actually have emotions?

suddenly when the car came to a stop due to there being a red light he turned to face you. "You know I love taking you out...hell I'd drive across the world for you..." he says with a light chuckle which is more than unusual for him. you blink in shock at his sudden lovingness.he doesn't seem to notice though.just when you had thought you finally broke through to him.that he was finally going to take off this strange mask of indifference he's been wearing for so long.that he would act like he had a heart.but no.he just went right back to being unaware whether by choice or not.

you don't say anything else.words aren't needed as you turn back to face the front of the car.staring out of the window in front of you too look at the city lights slicing through the deep night of Tokyo on a weekend.you hadn't even noticed one of your favorite songs was on, "American Wedding" by frank ocean. your ears perked as you began to listen to the song in silence.anyone that knew you knew you loved this song, loved frank ocean, especially this song. But did he?

─ -ˋ °. • ⚘ •. ° ˊ- ─ the next day

you yawned as your feet padded against the wooden floor of the dorm hallways.having just woken up due to the fact you were out fairly late last night.you grumble something random under your breath to yourself so you scratch the messy rats nest that laid on your head.stepping into the bathroom only to be blinded by the bright light.when you finished using the bathroom, you began to walk back to your dorm seeing as you were still in the fuzzy pajama pants and large tee shirt that's far too old to be wearing an in front  of anyone.

As you pass by the dorm hall training room you hear music from inside it lightly. you typically would've ignored it.too tired to pay any mind to it at all.but as you recognized the voice of the man singing, and the unmistakable sample he had used. it was frank ocean, specifically your favorite song by him.

As your curiosity piqued you stepped closer to the door.thinking it was most likely Nobara in there as you can't imagine any of your other friends on the first year floor would listen to Frank ocean, especially not while training.

You creeped up to the wooden door. You could hear the swoosh and fwoosh of someone moving around really fast.nonetheless you assumed it was nobara considering she was fairly strong in that sense.

As you slid the door open your only surprise was that it was megumi training in fact.he didn’t noticed you in your confused state in the doorway for a few moments but when he did he languidly stopped his fast and rhythmic movements.his body slightly sweaty as the gray tanktop you had never seen him wear once stuck to the hidden muscle of his body.he was slightly out of breath as he looked at you with those same hooded green eyes which never looked better.

“Hey” he huffed out as he slowly came towards you.the song slowly coming to an end in the background.you didn’t know what shocked you more how good he looked right now or the fact that he was listening to one of your favorite songs…probably the former.

“Hey…” you answer him with a small smile as for some reason you're out of breath from just looking at him somehow.the question inside you continues to eat you alive:after a moment of silence you can’t bring yourself to not ask “you like this song?”

He gave you a bewildered look.the song had now switched to one he was all the more familiar with in a matter of seconds.you hadn’t fully noticed though so your confusion stayed lingering. “Yeah it’s like one of my favorites?” The tall boy answered you.

“No no, the other one…American wedding?” You clarify with an awkward laugh.no matter how long you guys were dating you never could brush away how nervous you felt around him.especially not when he’s all sweaty and out of breath and oh so close to you.before you could gradually leave your thoughts his low, unambiguous tone flowed into your ears with a sense of fluidity you didn't know he could harness.

“Yea, you got me into it” he explains with a small smile, which was beyond rare for him.you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.after all this time of overthinking and figuring he just wasn’t a good listener or wasn’t interested when you talked, he was.he payed attention to everything. He really was a great listener.

[lurkingshan]

Things I Can't Stop Thinking About in Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

My friends, we are in for a world of pain, Hwang Da Seul style, and I could not be more excited for her to hurt me. Her shows are always so beautiful and evocative and layered with deep emotion, and this one is no different. Here are some things that stood out to me from the first two episodes.

This show is giving us a classic character dynamic that Korea in particular seems to love: the persistent sunshine boy masking pain who insists on getting close to the closed off grump whose pain is right there on the surface for anyone who cares to look. I loved them both, as individual characters and as a pair, instantly.

Our tale appears to be taking place around about the mid-2000s, based on the technology, music, and drama references in these first couple episodes (h/t @dropthedemiurge). Both the main characters are serving as narrators of different parts of the story, and they seem to be looking back on this time from the future.

Juyeong captured my heart as soon as he started dancing with himself in the middle of the street, and my interest and investment in him only grew as we got more pieces of his backstory. The implication is clear that his sexuality is the reason for the fracture with his Christian pastor mother and why he was sent to this town to be "set straight" by an abusive coach. But he’s still in touch with her, speaking on the phone every day and promising he’s being good, even as he gives in to his desires (but not before removing his crucifix). He's a filial son who seems to be harboring a lot of guilt for disappointing her, and this whole situation feels very akin to being sent away for conversion therapy (and now I'm thinking about Love in the Big City again).

Dohoe feels all around more jaded than Juyeong, which is perfectly understandable given he was abandoned by his mother and left to live with an abuser in this town he hates. Not only is he putting up with constant beatings from his father, he is suffering bullying at school from a boy who used to be his friend until things got a little too gay between them. Anyone who had been hurt by as many loved ones as he had would be justified in trusting no one, so it's telling that he let Juyeong in as quickly as he did. Dohoe radiates loneliness and he was dying for someone to see him.

It feels notable to me that both Dohoe and Juyeong came to this connection knowing they were gay and having already had bad experiences because of it. It's rare that we get two characters in a bl romance who both Know (h/t @bengiyo).

The romance in this show is so well written, I was already screaming into my pillow within two episodes. I tell ya, nobody delivers romance writing like Korea when they decide to be serious. The little ways Juyeong and Dohoe see each other, the way they pay attention and notice each other's mood and health, the way they go out of their way to bring each other a bit of happiness. Dohoe's journey to secure Juyeong's weird ice cream! Juyeong making snow for Dohoe (snow is one of THE biggest signifiers of love in kdrama language)! And on top of that, they communicate with each other. As soon as it's clear their attraction is mutual, they start talking about it. They confess (Dohoe in a more tortured manner, and then Juyeong after removing the symbol of his mother's oppression). They discuss where in this damn town they can safely make out with each other, and go do that! Perfection.

The tone of this show is also pitch perfect. The dojo and taekwondo scenes, along with the presence of Dohoe's father, root us in a kind of toxic masculinity that feels stifling. We feel transported back in time, in a setting where the accents and scenery are different from the usual drama fare, in a place where Dohoe and Juyeong don't fit in but also can't escape. Every moment feels anchored in both a warm nostalgia and a cold dread, because we can feel something bad coming even as Dohoe and Juyeong experience moments of happiness together.

Hyeonho is an interesting character. In some ways, he's very stereotypical: the bully who is battling his own internalized homophobia by punishing the ones he likes, and is now even more activated by his jealousy. But I do find it notable that he seems unwilling to let Dohoe get too hurt. He won't beat him himself and instead gets his little gang of thugs to do it for him, and he also stepped in (literally, he put his foot between Dohoe's head and the pavement) to make sure Dohoe didn't get irreparably injured. I'm not sure what to make of him just yet.

The references are everywhere in this show! HDS loves to reference both her own works (especially Where Your Eyes Linger and To My Star 2 in these first episodes) and other classic kdramas, along with making ample use of remixed versions of common kdrama romance tropes. It would probably be impossible to catch them all on a first viewing (a great excuse to rewatch).

Sending a plea to the universe and @troubled-mind to deliver the music on this soundtrack to me; it was so beautiful and perfectly used in these first two episodes.

[sun-kissy]

stars & spaghetti | r.b.

a/n: here i go again, not taking a break 😭 i swear i just needed to write this! thank you @lovemenotts for encouraging me to post it 🫶 i love you lily

tw: eating disorder recovery

Regulus knows where to find you, but he also knows better than to act like he was looking for you with two bowls of food in hand.

“Hey.”

You almost jump at the sound of his voice. You turn around from where you’re sitting on the porch, giving him a small smile. “Hi.”

His heart drops a little when he sees your face, with your sunken eyes and tired expression.

“I didn’t realize you were home already. Did you come through the back?”

He hums an affirmative, sitting down next to you on the steps leading out the house.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as you slouch onto the railing on your left, blankly staring out at the road. “How’s your day been?”

Regulus casually twirls his fork into the spaghetti in his bowl before bringing it to his mouth. Maybe he believes he’s being slick, you think, but it’s obvious that he’s got twice his usual serving.

“Today’s been fine, yeah. Just busy. How was work?”

He nods in response, “Good, actually. Mark finally sent me the files I needed to get that huge contract signed, and —” He presses his fork into the pasta again, but this time brings it up to your mouth (hoping you’re too distracted to mind).

His heart drops and how instantly you swerve backwards, almost crashing into the step behind you.

“Reg,” it comes out as a betrayed hiss. You take a shaky exhale before sitting back upright. “I don’t want any; I’ve eaten dinner already.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, I —“

“Then why’s the kitchen completely clean?”

Regulus never takes a harsh tone with you, and he wasn’t going to start now. There’s nothing but quiet, genuine concern in the way he asks. Guilt claws at the back of your throat anyway.

It was one of your worse days; thoughts of excessive calories and not having worked out being all you could think about. You’d stared at yourself in the mirror for what seemed like hours, cursing every flaw of your body and wondering why me.

Without your boyfriend home, it had just felt like there was no reason to fatten yourself.

“Hey,” Regulus mutters, laying his palm facing upwards on your lap. You take it. “You’re getting in your head again.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, lovely girl.” He reaches out to gently brush a stray hair away from your face. “But do you think you could try to eat something? Please?”

Your heart stops, and it’s like your mind is reeling back into its hiding spot already. No lies on the tip of your tongue.

“It doesn’t have to be a lot, dove, he continues quietly, rubbing your fingers. “Just a few bites. You need fuel, you know.”

Regulus is looking into your eyes with that silent look now, the one which makes you feel like he’d do just about anything to save you from yourself. You don’t think you could ever say no to him.

And it wasn’t like you’d eaten anything today. You were allowed this, for your boyfriend, right?

“Fine.”

He smiles softy and tugs you closer, stamping a kiss to the side of your forehead and picking up the bowl of pasta from beside him. “So, remember that bouquet I bought you last week?”

He starts to make casual conversation as he feeds you, and you do your best to listen. It goes all the way from those flowers were expensive! to maybe we should get a cat — or a new apartment — but NOT a dog.

The food gets lodged in your throat every now and then, but you force yourself to swallow. The ‘full’ feeling starts to creep up on you like your shadow.

Regulus can sense it. “Okay, but why the hell do you like dogs?”

You decide to indulge him and go off on a tangent about the fluffy beasts, which pulls your mind away from its dark corner. The conversation makes the chore of eating easier.

You’re sure he knows what he’s doing, but you’re going to let him anyway.

Before you know it, you’re laughing so hard you don’t even realize the bowl is empty. He stands up to put it away before you get the chance to think too hard about it.

Regulus sits back down next to you. He starts to tell you about the stars, then, and you listen intently. It’s late, but you wouldn’t know what time it is. Time didn’t exist in your little bubble.

At one point you’ve curled into him the furthest you can. Your eyelids are being pulled down by the weight of fatigue, his comforting presence lulling you closer towards sleep.

He thinks you don’t hear it when he murmurs a soft I’m proud of you. You do.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eight: overstimulation kink

>>> gojo x pussydrunk is so real and canon don't try to convince me otherwise. also, everyone clap and shower me in praise, i wrote a gojo smut w/o a daddy kink!!!!!

>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: overstim pls, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), creampie, mating press, petnames, slight size kink? >>>wc: 2.3k >>> event masterlist

satoru gojo is a lot of things. the world’s strongest sorcerer, yes. renowned six eyes user after hundreds of years, yes. absolutely insufferable to most of his loved ones, another yes. he’s also undeniably and insatiably obsessed with you. you’re his person, the one designed to understand, support, and love him, you’re the one thing about him that makes everything else seem irrelevant by comparison. so it’s no surprise when he puts you on a pedestal, worshiping you as if you were the honored one. in a way, you are. you’re the one hand-crafted just for him, that at least made you the chosen one, no? and he certainly chose to spend all his free time with you, despairing every second away from home. you consumed nearly every thought of his even this far into your relationship, and all of his money was spent on or for you. oh how the mighty have fallen, the most powerful man of the modern era absolutely wrapped tight around your little finger. he’s whipped, and absolutely proud of it. your love looks good on him, and he’s honored in more ways than one. 

which must explain why he’s been so miserable for the past few days. he hadn’t left your side for longer than a night’s rest since he met you because satoru gojo also is the definition of a stage four clinger. this mission had drained him of joy, running around wrestling grade one curses with his kids was nowhere near as fun as laying in your arms or pinning those arms to your sides to keep you from pushing him away as he lapped away at you…sigh. he couldn’t wait to be home. his imagination wasn’t doing it for him anyways.

not even his teleportation abilities got him to his house quick enough. he sighs contently at the comforting smell of his living room, some fancy vanilla and lavender air plug-in thing you insisted he needed. he can sense you immediately, seemingly asleep. it was rather late at night, but he still feels his heart sink a little in disappointment. but as he silently makes his way down the hall, he can hear little sniffles and ragged breaths. you were crying, he realizes. 

“don’t tell me you’re crying because you miss me?” he pouts from the doorway, the sound of his voice ceasing your little sobs. he’s grinning at you, one of his award winning ones where his eyes sparkle like a clear pool on a summer day and his nose crinkles up so adorably and everything. you rub at your eyes just to make sure he’s really back, and then you throw a pillow at him for the comment. 

“course i was, you ass. it’s almost been a week!!” you whine, and he’s abusing his powers again to pull you into his chest, suddenly laying beside you in the bed—the pillow plopping against the floor. he adorns that same grin, large hands pawing away your tears. 

“i’m flattered, really, but my girl’s got no reason to cry. you know nothing could keep me from coming home to you.” he muses, kissing your forehead. your hands close around his wrists as you give him a weak smile of approval. 

“i know–but you weren’t answering any of my texts and it was only supposed to be a three day mission.” you reason with a sniffle, burying your face in his chest so you can squeeze him tighter. he sighs with a little wave of guilt knocking into him at your words. he should have made time to at least let you know he was alright. 

he sighs at his mistake. “my bad princess!” one of his hands rests on the back of your head, the other in the dip of your waist. “i was absolutely miserable without you though, i was too distracted trying to finish so i could get home.” he pouts, still smiling brightly at you as he slides his hand lower to your hip. you huff in response. then you throw a punch to his chest lightly after you lean back from the hug, abusing your own knowledge of infinity being off in your presence to your advantage. 

“that’s for making me worry!” you pout, still sniffling a little bit. He frowns, ducking down to kiss the tip of your nose. he uses his grip on your face to steer your gaze up to him, and then he kisses the corner of your mouth. 

“oh–i can’t have that.” his thumbs move back and forth over your cheekbones. “let me make it up to you?” he croons, easing his hand to your ass to squeeze on your mound, a sly smirk replacing the sweet grin he’d worn previously. you gasp a little, especially after he gives your ass a light little smack. “i did miss you terribly, after all.” 

it’s almost embarrassing how easy it is to rile you up. but you’ve missed him too, you hadn’t been without him for longer than a day or two, so the six it’s been was borderline torture for a couple as addicted to each other as you two are. you spread your hands out across his shoulders, feeling the dips and swells of his chest and collarbones beneath your fingers. you nod, his hand hard at work kneading the fat of your backside. “be my guest.” 

he grins, giving you a proper kiss. his lips are warm and sweet tasting as always and he wastes no time moving his hands up under your shirt to remove it, chuckling when you yank on his shirt with haste. it’s clear you missed him just as bad, and he can’t deny his little love. he leans back for enough separation to peel his top off, humming happily when you’re smashing your boobs up against him in another tight hug and smothering kiss. the way your body feels against his is intoxicating, and he can’t help but relish the warmth your soft and supple skin provides. his hand quickly snakes between you, locating your throbbing need easily. it’s muscle memory with as many times as he’s done this, your lips wrestling for dominance as his fingers swipe over your panty-clad bundle. you always whine so prettily into his mouth, your hips seemingly moving with a mind of their own every time he touches you. he smiles against your mouth, feeling his own cock pulse with excitement at the cute noises you make. 

the way the fabric of your panties presses against you makes your whines turn into moans, the pleasure starting to mount in your gut. satoru loves this, the slutty pajamas you sleep in of just his shirt and a pair of panties only making everything easier. he has the best seat in the house to you wiggling against the pillows, soft moans spilling from your lips as your little hand tries to add to your pleasure by pinching at your chest. it doesn’t take long at all before you’re grasping at his wrist to keep his hand still, spilling over the edge with nothing but his fingers and the occasional sloppy kiss to your face and neck. 

but he’s missed you, he couldn’t dare stop there. he slides down your body, giving your nipple a quick lick on his way to settle in between your legs. he smiles at the sight greeting him, the cute little wet patch soaking through your undies that was growing darker by the second. he presses his nose against the spot, taking in a deep sniff and sighing it out happily. “god i missed ya so bad, sweetness. you know i gotta taste, i almost forgot what it’s like..” 

you giggle as he loops his fingers in the waistline and peels the wet fabric down your legs, discarding them in a forgotten pile. you spread your legs for him easily, watching his tired eyes hum with vibrance and excitement as he looks at your sopping core. he’s on you in a matter of seconds, his hot tongue spooning out your release for him to drink up. it has your back arching off the bed instantly, the long muscle caressing your insides for his own pleasure just as much as your own. he moves so fast and so sloppy as he moans at your flavor, moving up to suckle on your clit, his teeth gnashing over the bundle without care. he knows your inner workings inside and out, able to work you up and over the edge as quickly or slowly as he willed it. you know better than anyone that that ability paired with his normal insatiability meant you were in for a long night. 

“oh sh–shit baby.” you whine, feeling that delicious burn of pleasure mount in your gut. your eyes drift closed as your fingers snatch handfuls of his white tresses in an effort to ground yourself. he just chuckles, rapidly flicking his tongue over your clit, purposefully trying to drive you to the edge as many times as he could tonight just to prove to you that he couldn’t get his mind off you for one second while he was away. even as dangerous as the stakes of the mission were, he couldn’t bring himself out of his daydream of going back home to your waiting embrace and spending the rest of the day doing exactly this—watching your pretty eyes roll back into your head as your legs shake around his face. 

every suck and lick is calculated expertly, you couldn’t hold back any longer. you whine softly, tugging on his silky hair as you coat his mouth and chin with your juices. you know better though, he won’t stop here. he only proves you right, lapping at your fluids once more before sticking his fingers in the fluttering hole and returning to suck at the apex of your thighs. you shake your head, too wound up from your last orgasm to handle the harsh way his mouth moves over you or the speed of his fingers curling inside. you squeal and kick your legs, trying with all your feeble might to escape him. he knows if you really needed to stop you would give him the special code word you instilled at the beginning of your relationship, so he doesn’t hold back in his relentless finger fucking, letting his teeth bite at your need in a way that had your toes curling and legs jerking before you even came again. you’re whining and panting, and he thinks you’ve never looked better than this, an absolute mess just for him; letting him have his way with you just to prove you missed him too. it makes him so proud. you can feel that pleasurable burn again, mixed with something foreign. it was almost like you had swallowed a bunch of rocks, and you could only gasp out to communicate that this time was going to be different. he felt your thighs tighten under his grip, a clear cut sign that you were close yet again. he giggled to himself, putting his work into overdrive to get you there for the third time in under fifteen minutes. 

you pull his hair way harder than he’s experienced at your hand before—not that he’s complaining, and then you spray liquid all over his face and chest. he’s gawking up at you as he watches the streams, sitting up to avoid it hitting him in the eyes. he’s grinning like a madman though, easy circles over your clit to soothe you through it while his other hand tracks down his shirt. 

“oh my god?? my pretty girl just squirted for me.” he giggles, wiping his face and upper body clean. your eyes are drooping, but you’re returning his grin. he leans over to kiss you, rewarding you for the performance. “so hot. wanted you in doggy, but my poor girl wouldn’t be able to hold herself up.” he teases, shoving your legs to bend up by your chest. 

he slips in so easily he’s fighting not to bust immediately. you swallow up his length so gorgeously, his head falls back and he moans. you feel so good, still so tight and gripping but obviously soaked to the bone. you’ve made such a mess on the bed the two of you may have to sleep in the guest bedroom but he doesn’t care. he’s determined to fuck a fourth one out of you even if it takes all night. your nails dig into his forearms with his first thrust. everything is so sensitive, you can feel every vein and ridge along his shaft as the tip bumps along your womb. 

“fuck–so good, angel. missed you so bad, can’t ya tell?” he giggles, drawing your legs to wrap around his waist. he keeps ramming his length in, a rhythmic snap of his hips against yours and his balls following close behind and your open-mouthed pants filling the room. you can’t respond and he knows that, but he still talks to you anyway, enjoying the way your brows scrunch in frustration at him. your fingers dig and claw at him, with your pussy spasming so rapidly he wonders if it’s normal. 

this time, it nearly hurts to cum. your eyes squeeze shut and you grip him so tightly he can’t move, that fact alone enough to have him painting ribbons of white against your insides with a guttural moan. he squeezes your hips, his chest and face red from all the hard work and forehead sheening with sweat. satoru leans down to give you a sweet kiss, suffocating the sounds of recovery from you both. you can feel him grinning, and you want to get onto him for being so cocky, but you don’t have the energy. he’s already on it though, taking advantage of your hazy in-and-out state to get you cleaned up and tucked back under the sheets, complete with a bottle of water on the nightstand and all. 

“so happy to be home, princess.” he says, long arms closing around your waist and hard chest caressing your back. 

[thesmutsideblog]

Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a you and your long term ex breakup, some truths about your sex life come to light at the BAU and the idea that you've never had an orgasm, does not fly with Spencer Reid.

Reader is AFAB, and the story is using she/her pronouns, mostly because this one is really self indulgent and loosely based on me being pissed off about my ex.

Content warnings: dumbification of Spencer Reid, simp Spencer, shitty ex boyfriend, self indulgent writing, no beta or proof reading, cursing, smut, sexual worship, porn with plot I guess.

I have never written in second person before so I can only apologise for the shit quality of this, I havent written smut since 2018 and it's unedited, there is going to be spelling issues it's the dyslexia I'm sorry xx

GIF by comeandjointhebigboys

Spencer is doing everything in his power to look like he is minding his business, mostly because he really is trying to not eavesdrop. He came over to make a cup of coffee because he got barely any sleep last night and he wants to keep focused. But with no case directly at hand, there was something else the team were paying attention to and it was impossible for Spencer to completely ignore it.

"So he just, broke up with you?" Emily asks, dumbfounded.

"Over the phone," you say tilting your mug towards yourself, choosing to stare down at the small remainder of your coffee rather than to make eye contact with your team members.

"What an asshole," JJ says, lacing her arms together, until she looks like a disapproving mother. "Did he say why?"

"He said, we were going different places, and it would be a disservice to the time we spent together to pretend to be happy and keep lying to eachother," you say, sighing and putting the mug down, choosing to accept this caring interrogation about your breakup as your fate for the next twenty minutes.

"He used those words?" Emily asks, still trying to grapple the concept that your boyfriend, who she had met on a few occasions and had some thoughts she kept to herself about, had broken up with you.

"He used those words but what he really meant was 'I want to start sleeping with my twenty year old coworker and you spend too much time at work, so I'm ending things,' but he won't have the decency to admit that, despite the fact he was sleeping with her before the week was out," you roll your eyes as Emily and JJ continue to voice their disgust, loudly across the bullpen. You catch Spencer's eye for a moment and give him a small sad smile across the room, he nods and then looks away.

The guilt is eating Spencer alive. It's not like he actually had anything to do with the end of your relationship, he actively kept himself far away from it and even discussing it with you as possible. But the facts still remained the same, he likes you. He has liked you since your first day at the BAU and his feelings have never faltered. But you have always been in that relationship since long before he met you, and he knew that he didn't stand a chance, and he wouldn't want to mess around with that anyway. But he was unable to disagree with Prentiss, his own feelings for you aside, the simple fact of the matter was you have always been well out of your exes league. You are beautiful, and intelligent and charismatic, and your ex thought he was those things but more often than not fell short.

It's not like he even wished that your relationship would end and could blame it on the unlikely event of magical intervention. But the sheer fact that he was undeniably happier that you were no longer dating a man you were once very much in love with, that was enough to have him feeling guilty. Which is one of the many reasons he is really trying to not get involved in this conversation. One of the many reasons he is trying to keep a distance.

"How long were you two together again, like three years?" JJ asks. You shake your head.

"High school sweethearts," you correct her, "it's been a lot longer than three years."

"And he broke up with you over the phone, for a co-worker?" Emily emphasis each word in the sentence as she slowly sounds them out.

"He denies the last part but, yes," you nod.

"What are you beautiful ladies being so loud about?" Derek asks, approaching the three of you with some files in hand.

"The fact that men never fail to both disappoint and astound me," Emily states looking up at Derek from her seat, "no offence."

"None taken, but a little context wouldn't go a miss," he says looking at each of you in turn.

"My ex is a pig," you explain as nonchalantly as you can manage. You're trying really hard to be very collected about this. You've had a few days to process the breakup and you knew it was coming, even if you won't admit that to yourself. But being broken up with hurts, whether you see it coming or not. He was the only person you ever really dated, and having spent so much of your life with him this was a big adjustment. But deep down you weren't exactly mad about the situation, as much as it made you feel a lot better to complain about it. Things had not been right between the two of you for quite some time, and you find yourself almost relieved that it's over. But that still gave him no right to be as much of an asshole about it all as he has been.

"So he is the only guy you've ever really dated then, huh?" Emily asks. You give her a look as the thought crosses through her mind. "Wait, does that mean?"

"We started dating when we were barely more than kids Emily," you defend.

"So it's just been that guy, that guy?" Emily is struggling to be even the smallest part composed. "What is wrong with men?"

"You need some strange," Derek says casually.

"Morgan," JJ scolds him but Emily is slowly nodding her head. "Emily..."

"Best way to get over someone," Emily points out.

"Wow, I am not getting under anyone," you state, holding up your hands.

"Look, I understand the appeal of someone you've been with for a long time, they know you, they know what you like," Derek leans back on the table, "so new is risky, and some people really don't have a clue what they're doing I'll admit," he chuckles, "but trust me the longer you leave it-" Derek knows he isn't crossing a boundary, you and him have had plenty of conversations, but as soon as you give him the look to stop talking, he stops.

"I appreciate your concern but sex, is really not at the top of my priority list," you say.

"Please don't let a guy like that ruin it for you," Emily is staring up at the ceiling all types of distressed at the idea of your ex and his general existence.

"I don't think you need to worry about him ruining anything for me, more like just wasting my time," you say before realising that may be revealing too much. All three of them look at you instantly. "Do not read into that."

"Disinterest," Emily states looking you up and down. "And no immediate desire to release that usually comes with a breakup."

"We're not really doing this, are we?" JJ asks looking between the two profilers concerned.

"She's been distant the last few months, talking less and less about him, so the breakup wasn't unexpected, which means the sexlife probably wasn't up to scratch at the time," Derek adds.

"Oh you guys are doing this," JJ gives you an apologetic look as they start rattling off assumptions.

You try your best to ignore them until Derek says something which does tiptoe over the line- by a mile. "Pretty boy, what are the statistics on post breakup sex?" He is half joking but it pulls Spencer directly into a conversation he had been trying to avoid.

Spencer knows the answer, and that's obvious, but answering will only encourage them to get him involved in the conversation. But not answering is suspicious and could cause worse problems. He pushes his thumb into the centre of his palm as he speaks. "27% of adults report having sex with an ex within a two-year period," Spencer states knowing that's not what Derek meant but hoping he could get away with it.

"No, I mean rebound sex," Derek corrects.

"Studies show that thirty-five percent of those who are broken up with have sex to get over their ex, and twenty-five percent as a form of revenge," Spencer says giving in and stepping closer to the group.

"Look sixty five percent of rebound relationships fail within six months," you say. That's a safe thing to say you believe, as you know the team would likely assign that research as an attempt to make an educated guess how long the fling with the coworker would last. But Spencer knows better. He cannot help but wonder if that's what has been making you act differently the last few months. If you saw the end in sight and wondered what that means for you when it's over.

"You're not looking for a relationship though, you're just looking for some fun," JJ points out.

"You do remember how to have fun, don't you beautiful," Derek asks giving you a wink.

"Yeah," you say brushing him off.

"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.

"I told you, I'm not interested in going out and getting laid, it's not worth the energy," you say.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" Emily asks. Spencer chokes on his coffee.

"Emily!" JJ chastises her.

"Someone had to ask," Emily says.

"No one had to," you tell her.

"Come on, six months?" Emily asks. "A year?"

"Emily," JJ warns.

"Shit..." Derek whispers and you feel his gaze on you intensifying. He has you all figured out.

"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.

Derek is keeping his eyes on you and you cannot meet his eye. "Tell me I'm wrong pretty girl," Derek says, wanting himself to be wrong.

"I... I don't know... You're a profiler, how am I supposed to lie to you?" You huff.

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.

"Derek you're not helping," you state.

"Sorry," he says, "I just don't understand how that can be the case."

"You said it yourself, some people really don't have a clue what they're doing," you say.

"So you've never?" Emily asks cottoning on.

"Can we please stop talking about this," you say.

Spencer's brain is ticking over trying to read between the lines and when it clicks he is struck with a similar dumbfounding as Morgan. How? How?

He cannot help but have one clear thought scrambling around his brain at a million miles per hour. If he had ever had the chance, he wouldn't have wanted anything more than to make sure you felt good. To know he had made you feel good.

How inconsiderate could your ex be? How little attention must he have been playing to not even notice that you were not getting what he was out of it? How had he never cared to make that better?

And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?

"I'm not eavesdropping," Garcia defends bringing Spencer out of his head and back into the room.

"Okay why don't we just fax everyone the stats on my sex life," you groan, resting your head in your hands.

"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.

"I appreciate all of the unnecessary concern," you say, "but my sex life isn't a BAU case." Emily smiles as she goes to speak but you catch her thought right before she opens her mouth. "And it's no ones problem to solve either."

"It's a little tragic," JJ confesses.

"JJ," you're surprised, JJ is normally the one you can count on to get the others back on track but she just shrugs.

"Let's leave it be, Garcia do we have a case," Spencer is talking with his hands even more than normal and you cannot help but notice. He is trying to come to your rescue and you appreciate that. You appreciate everything Spencer does.

"Maybe," Garcia explains, waving her tablet at the group. "Hotch wants us in the conference room, five minutes ago."

You're quick to get out of your seat and away from the grilling you are receiving from the team and everyone else is quick behind you. Hotch and Rossi are at the desk when you all enter.

Hotch frowns. "You took a while," he notes.

"Discussing the breakup?" Rossi asks, looking you up and down.

"I dont even want to know what has given that away," you admit taking a seat. Hotch nods a half apology which you silently shrug off in return.

You were trying your best to pay attention, giving Hotch the respect he deserves, but the case he was talking about didnt feel like it required the BAU's involvement and Emily is quick to voice that opinion. You managed to register a few words about consulting and favours, but nothing is really sinking in, not when you can feel Spencer's gaze on you as hot as a fever.

You raise your eyes to meet his and they dart away. You think back, and it occurs to you that maybe conversations about your sex life or anyone of the teams sex lives for that matter wasnt exactly what Spencer signed up for. You feel a little guilty, knowing you kind of indulged the others and let him get pulled into the conversation even if that wasnt your intention.

You catch him looking at you again but he doesnt see you looking back, it's like he is trapped in a thought, and in this moment you've never seen Spencer look so without a clue.

"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.

Spencer looks to Hotch, and he buffers. You know he knows the answer to the question, you know he always knows, but his brain seems to have frozen up on him. "I... sorry what?"

"This is statistics kid," Derek says, "are you sick or something?"

Emily gently pokes Spencers shoulder. "Maybe he is getting a software update," she jokes.

You lean forward and give Hotch the answer he is looking for, remembering from a conversation you and Spencer had a few weeks back about Ohio. Hotch gives a side eye to Rossi before continuing.

You look back at Spencer and he is watching you again, you offer him a small smile and he returns it. You've always been better at reading Spencer than most members of the team but you don't recognize this behaviour at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him as you both make your way down the steps of the BAU.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"You blanked back there, Spence, pretty hard," you say as gently as you can, "I havent seen you like that since..."

"Since when?" Spencer looks curious, and softer somehow.

"Since we worked that case in Illinois, with the models, you took one look at that girl Annie Grant was it, and your IQ dropped like a hundred points," you laugh gently.

"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.

"I think Morgan got her number," you recall.

"He did," Spencer agrees.

"So, what is it? Because it's not a pretty girl in lounge wear," you say.

"You dont know that for sure," you can tell he is trying to joke around the subject, and normally youd find that cute. Cute in the kind of way you havent been able to admit to yourself before. Because having a crush on a coworker is not convenient at the best of times.

"Okay, Dr Reid, keep your secrets," you give him gentle shove and his smile is disarming, soft and so happy to just be involved. "Got any fun evening plans?"

"There's this new study into cognitive dissonance in specific trauma patterns I have been meaning to read," he offers. You bite back a chuckle.

"You've got a date with science," you nod to yourself, "of course you do."

He looks around, thinking for a moment. "Are you going to walk?" He asks.

"I usually do," you admit, "it's only a few blocks after all."

"Can I," he pauses, "can I walk you?"

"You want to walk me home?" You ask, a little suprised at the offer.

"If that's okay, the study can wait," he says. There is a look in his eyes you can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between pleading and hopeful. You nod.

"I'd love that Spence."

The distance to your apartment door had never felt so short, and you hadn't realised until now quite how much you enjoyed the moments when you were with Spencer, and no one else was watching. Maybe because he paid less attention to making sure no one noticed him watching you, and he just keeps watching.

Spencer looks at his feet as you fumble with your keys, he has no idea what he is doing. He didn't think any of this through, he just kept thinking about you, and what you deserved and what you should've always been given and now he is stood at the doorstep of your place with no plan, no idea of what compelled him to think any of this was a good idea and no idea of what to do next.

You smile at him, and bite your lower lip just a small bit, the look is so demure that Spencer wonders if he imagined the entire conversation in the bullpen, wondering if maybe he was really so wrapped up in these months of conflicted feelings for you that he managed to lapse from reality so badly that he got himself here.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" You offer and his heart damn near stops in his chest.

"Coffee is never coffee kid," Derek's voice rings in his head. "It's an invitation."

"Got decaf?" Spencer asks, and you laugh.

"Like anyone who works at the BAU knows what decaf is," you open the door wide and walk through. "You coming?"

He doesn't answer but follows you, closing the door behind him. Your apartment isn't a mess but it's clear things have been moved around since your breakup, there is clear empty spaces where things once collected dust, like so many things once filled a place and vanished. You weren't dwelling on the relationship, because there wasn't a point. You had loved and you had lost, and you knew it went like that sometimes.

"You better not be profiling me Dr Reid," you quip as you catch him looking around.

"I wouldn't dare," he says.

"So, are you going to explain why you're being so sheepish?" You ask, reaching for a mug, to actually make coffee.

"I'm being sheepish?" he asks. He had hoped he was hiding it better.

"Nervous at the very least," you say putting the kettle on. He says nothing and you sigh. "Did we make you uncomfortable earlier?"

"What?" Spencer asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Talking about my ex," you offer up. "I know that sort of gossip isn't exactly for everyone-,"

"No," he is quick to defend, "that's not what's bothering me."

You smirk and he sees the trap you laid for him that he walked right into. "So something is bothering you pretty boy," Morgan's nickname for him falls from your lips and it sounds so different. It burns every nerve ending, each fibre of his being and he forgets how to speak for a moment too long. "Spence?"

"I," he brings himself back.

"I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything," you explain quickly.

"How was your ex such an idiot?" he asks outright. You laugh, it's short and shallow because you're not expecting anything close to that from Spencer.

"What?" It's your turn to feel dumb now as you spiral trying to process what Spencer is suggesting. That the conversation had gotten to him, but not in the way you'd thought. His problem hadn't been with the topic but the content, the confession. The kettle brings itself to a boil but you're interest is elsewhere now.

"I don't mean to speak out of place here, but if I were him there are so many things I would've done differently," he fidgets with his tie but doesn't stop. This confession is coming out now or not at all and he wants it finished. He needs it finished. He does not want blurred lines. Not between the two of you. "Not even touching the subject of how your relationship ended. I wouldn't have left you in the rain last October, I wouldn't have held all the things I knew about you when we met as reasons to run years after I agreed to love you regardless. I wouldn't have let you go to work angry all those times. I wouldn't have lied about plans. I wouldn't have let you go to sleep sad or angry, and be gone in the morning. I wouldn't have left you wanting, for anything. Because if I was him I would understand what a beautiful rarity it is to find someone who does what you do, with your compassion and determination and dedication and is still kind, still hopeful, even when things are dark. There are not a lot of things I don't know much about, and maybe relationships, and romance and sex are in that limited list, and maybe he would argue that hypotheticals hold no ground when your experience is as limited as mine, but I frankly don't care what his opinion would be. Because he didn't see you for what you are and that means his thoughts are of no value to me. I don't tell you this because I am expecting you to say anything, it's just burning me up that you weren't treated, hell worshiped, in the way you deserved and I had to tell you that I can't think of anything more wrong." He steps back and you're still catching your breath. "I, I am sorry I shouldn't have... I will see you at work."

He turns and strides to the door, and your breath heaves in and out of your chest and you wonder if you can find your voice before his hand finds purchase on your doors lock. "Spencer," you breathe out. He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle.

"Yes?" his voice is so quiet, and he doesn't turn to look at you.

"Please don't leave," the request falls from your lips and Spencer has never felt more of a need to do something than to do anything you ask of him in this moment. But his doubt still hangs gently in the space between the two of you.

"What?" he asks again, searching in the word to find something to hold onto, looking for some guidance or instructions he missed. He didn't have a plan, and he doesn't know what to do with this.

"Please," you say again, voice sturdier now as you start to close the distance between the two of you, "Spence," his breath hitches as you place a hand gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn back to you, and he does, "don't leave."

His eyes stare into yours and you swear you feel all the months of unsaid things, of quiet wanting, of stolen thoughts in weak moments, bursting at the seams. You had told yourself in another world, another life time, had you met Spencer Reid and the timing had been different, if you had been different, he would've been everything. You told yourself from that first day that those brown eyes may plead into you with every moment you meet them but it was never going to be the right time.

His eyes stare into yours and he feels the weight of all the things he long tired to bury, crawling their way up from the depths and pushing against his skin, desperate to get out. Desperate to be known. Desperate to correct the wrongs and do right by you. Desperate.

His hand hovers touch's length away, scared to close the distance, scared to make the move, to change everything. You both know in this moment, that all it takes is one touch and you're going over the cliff.

This is a road you do not turn back from.

You whisper one last time, like a prayer, "Spence," and in a blink gravity turns back on, and everything blooms in bright technicolour.

It unfolds in a rush, his hand to your waist, pulling you that much closer, both of your hands gripping to the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you up to him, other hand moving gently under your chin to guide the tilt of your head. His lips crash onto yours and there's a hunger you've never seen in him, and a hunger you've never known inside yourself.

There's a gentleness, a caution in his desperation, in his need, one that you don't have in your own. He keeps kissing you and you back up, footing not very careful as you tighten your grip on his shirt. Your back finds support against the edge of your counter and you find yourself letting on of the hands slip from the fabric of his button down to tug at his tie, to keep him closer at first, and then in an attempt to remove it entirely.

He pulls back for a moment, not to catch breath as either of you would be happy to drown in this moment, but his eyes are scanning you, like he is looking for something else, something missing.

You pause, slowly tugging the tie from his collar and letting it fall to your floor. "Spencer?" you ask.

He looks lost as he breathes in. "I don't know what I am doing," he says.

"You're doing great is what you're doing," you say, not looking away.

"Is this okay?" he finally asks. Your heart starts running away from you as you try to remember to breathe.

"This is more than okay," you assure him, "please Spencer, don't stop kissing me."

That's all he needs to hear and his lips are back on yours and the kisses are feverish and starved and he presses his hands into your hips and the gentle moan that leaves your lips sends Spencer's mind spinning.

He pulls his lips from yours and starts kissing a trail down to your neck, you lean more into the support of the counter top and let a hand find it's way into a tangle of his brown hair.

His tongue against your skin, the gentle brush of teeth on that spot that makes the sound from before seem like a draft of a masterpiece. Spencer knows that now he has heard you, voice like honey, moan trembling from your lips, nails dug into his scalp gently tugging on his hair, barely able to keep your eyes open yet again your breathing steady, no sound will ever compare.

In the the times he had let himself think about you, imagine all the things, let his fantasies and dreams run away with him, he had never come close to this moment. How your fingers shake as you start to unbutton his shirt, needing to do something, needing something.

Needing him.

And you can feel his need in return, in the way he holds onto you, on the way he is listening to your body, hearing every response, feeling every movement, determined to do this right.

He feels the way you press your tights together, tight against the counter, the need for something more radiating off of you, and you don't give time for the doubt to creep in. "We should," you breathe out as you feel the blood rushing through you, knowing that there will be marks from where he is kissing you that you won't be able to hide tomorrow, not that you want to, "move this to the bedroom."

"Is now a bad time to point out that I have mostly just a conceptual understanding of what we are about to do?" Spencer asks between kisses.

"I think you're worrying too much, because if you're basing this on theory," you take his hand leading him towards your room, "so far you're giving nothing but hard evidence."

You let your own innuendo slide as you both fall back onto your bed, he looks down as he leans over you, and there's a softness, a patience in this moment, as he needs to soak it all in.

You reach up and continue to undo the buttons on his shirt until they are completely undone, and he watches you as you do, you give the fabric a gentle tug and he catches on, slipping the rest of the shirt and the jacket off and letting it fall back somewhere out of mind. You trace a hand gently up his arm and he leans down to kiss you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He runs a thumb over the deep red mark he has left and you feel the fever rising again. You need out of these clothes, you need more.

You start to undo your own shirt buttons and as each button comes undone Spencer follows the trail of exposed skin and leaves hot kisses on each new place.

You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh as you reach to unzip the side of your skirt. The nervousness is still fluttering in Spencer's face as he helps you slip out of it. His fingertips brushing over exposed skin, his hand creeping up the inside of your thigh and you buck up gently at the touch.

His lips trace kisses up your torso to your chest and like this, each kiss so intoxicating, each touch so electrifying, his hand inching further and further up your thigh, as his lips dance over the skin around the fabric of your bra there is nothing he could ask of you that you would not do.

Sex may never have been perfect before, but you'd always thought it was at least decent, passing, respectable. But this build up with Spencer, his hands on your skin, his lips leaving evidence on your body that he has been here, this was more than you'd ever felt. And he hadn't even really touched you yet.

You reach to undo his trousers, eager to get him in less clothing but he pulls back, out of your reach. "Not yet," he whispers against your skin, "you start doing that and this will be over way too soon." He brings his lips to yours again, stealing a deep kiss as he unclasps your bra. "And this is about you, all about you," he is mumbling again, almost incoherent against you. He is determined, his mind is focused on you and your pleasure and what you deserve.

You don't think you've ever wanted anything as much as you want this.

His thumb brushes against the your clothed skin, and sparks shoot through your body, nails digging into his shoulder as you gasp at the contact.

He nudges closer, his forehead pressed to yours, and you look at him. Spencer, your colleague, your friend. Spencer who never forgets your coffee order. Spencer who stayed all night to help with paperwork because you lost a bet. Spencer who has accompanied you to every movie you've ever asked him to. Spencer who bought an extra ticket to every convention just in case you would want to come.

"Please," you plead, like you need to, as if it was possible that he wouldn't do anything for you in this moment. As if you even needed to ask.

He kisses you, pulling you up and towards him, breathing you in as his hand finds its way between the elastic of your underwear and your skin.

Your nerves are as quick to respond to his touch as fire to a accelerant. Every movement makes you wonder if Spencer was given some map of your body that you didn't know existed, a guide to movement and pressure and timing that couldn't be more perfect.

You are nodding at his movements, keening at every increase of pace, every finger curl, every swipe of his thumb. Your body shuddering in anticipation and a pleasure you never knew courses through you.

Spencer is leaving compliments with every kiss across your body, so eager to please, so desperate to worship. When he hits the spot, your body gives you away at alarming speed, you buck, moving your arms to prop yourself up on elbows, leaning into him, into the movements, rutting against him. "Fuck," you manage in the haze.

Spencer responds to this approval with dedication and vigour and then you feel it, that hot white coil of pleasure pulling at you, like a tight chord. "Shit," you start breathing heavier, faster, "shit, shit."

"You're so incredibly beautiful," you hear Spencer whisper. You can't keep your eyes open as your knees begin to shake.

"Spencer," you whimper, not for any reason but to say his name. The need to say his name over and over, and over as the chord pulls tight and finally snaps.

The pleasure explodes through you, every nerve tingling, like fireworks cascading through you. You shake, riding the high through and fall back onto the bed, slumped with a laboured breath.

Spencer moves back up to be level with you, gently brushes some stray hairs from your face and he smiles down at you. "That is what it's supposed to feel like?" You ask.

If this was all he could have for the rest of his life, Spencer would be a happy man. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and that look of devotion has not left his eyes.

But he has been filled with a new sense of purpose, like he was made for this. For you.

He doesn't have time to debate internally if your ex was purely just that poor at what he did or if it feeling so easy, coming so naturally to him was something else entirely. He didn't really care which it was, maybe both. Right now all he cared about was making up for lost time, lost opportunities, all your disappointment.

He kisses you again and the force of it is more knowing, more sure, it's hot and messy and every moment it feels like you need to be closer, deeper, more entwined. The whole time he keeps his hand in your underwear, thumb running in soft, intensely accurate circles as his fingers do most of the work.

It crosses your mind that maybe it should be almost embarrassing that he is making it so easy. It should be embarrassing that Spencer barely needed any time to bring that second orgasm to precipice. It should be embarrassing that you're convinced this man could make you come by the way he kisses you alone, but you're not embarrassed. Not because you've never felt the pleasure like this before, not because you think pleasure it never something to be embarrassed about and not because after everything you deserve this. But because it's Spencer Reid, and everything with him has always felt like it is exactly as it should be, and him making you feel this way, is no exception.

He holds you in the kiss as your second orgasm pulses through you, just as intense as the first one, he feels you shake as it floods you. A moan escaping into the kiss, from your mouth to his and he groans against your lips.

He is so focused on you that he isn't paying any attention to how this is effecting him, how hard he is against you. How desperate he is for you. His need for your pleasure overtaking any need of his own.

You know if left to his own devices Spencer would stay as the two of you are, skin pressed to skin, lips on yours, trying to write years worth of wrongs in one night. But you do not want to give into exhaustion before you have let him ruin your expectations in all the ways you know.

He moves from your lips to your neck and before you can process much of his plans you feel the kisses trailing your hipbone, and with the third orgasm approaching you can see where his mind has wondered to. You lean forward, gasping in pleasure, but determined to get his attention, you place a hand on the side of his face, tilting up his chin to meet your eyes. "Wait," is all you manage to moan out before the pleasure tears into you, your head falls back and you grab a fistful of sheet, trying to keep yourself up through the pleasure.

Spencer does as you ask and waits until you manage to gather your words, eyes on you. "Please," you try. He runs his eyes over your body trying to understand your request.

You reach down, pulling once again at the edge of his trousers, fumbling to undo them, to get him out of them. You've never known Spencer to be so slow to catch on, but he is practically drunk on you.

"Oh," he manages. "Oh."

Before he can start to explain all the reasons he doesn't think that's important right now you look up at him with those eyes so pleading. "Please," you whisper again.

And he is putty in your hand, happy to do anything you ask of him, he nods and you finish undoing his trousers and push them down, he finishes discarding them.

Now it's your fingertips against his skin and he holds his breath as you move for his boxers. "Is this okay?" you ask quietly.

"You're everything I have ever wanted," the honey leaves his lips and you kiss him, his lips focused on you as you help him out of his boxers and pull him down and close.

"I need you," you whisper. "Right now, I need you."

"I am yours," he responds.

You keep your fingers threaded in his hair, and you tug a little harder as you become overwhelmed with him. "Fuck," Spencer's voice shudders in pleasure and you understand his desperation to please you instantly, because you want nothing more than to give him everything.

Everything becomes a mixture of moans and names, lips pressed to skin, and fabric scrunched with every thrust. You kiss Spencer's neck, finding his sweet spot with a similar precision to which he found yours. Leaving a collection of marks on his neck before her buries his face into yours, repeating your name over and over, becoming more and more wanting. His neediness matching your own and as he digs his fingers into your hips that now familiar feeling starts to rush you.

"Spencer, I am going to cum again," you whisper. Spencer cannot form words, he just keeps kissing, sucking, digging at your skin, even now he isn't close enough to you. "Fuck!" You scream out and the pleasure of your orgasm is almost too much for Spencer.

"Fuck, I," Spencer's brain is doing flips trying to figure out what to do, what he is supposed to do. "I am going to."

"Please," you beg in his ear.

"I should, I haven't," he is trying to piece the words together but they're not coming. You know what is trying to say, what is cannot find the words to ask.

"Please stay with me," you say, nudging his nose with your own, "please."

Your gentle request is his breaking point and he crashes his lips back onto yours as his own orgasm comes to fruition.

He collapses down next to you, both catching your breath. "Fuck," you repeat, for what might be the millionth time, as you long lost count.

You cannot help it, you let out a little laugh and Spencer glances at you, a smile breaking out on his face. "For the record, I hadn't planned that," he says.

"For the record, I really planned on drinking my coffee."

"I can make you a coffee," Spencer offers, turning to his side.

"We should, get cleaned up first," you smile.

"Then coffee?"

"Then coffee."

[writingbluerose]

for a good cause | Rollo x fem!reader

summary : While having fun at the festival with your friends, you're oblivious to your own guilt and grudge. Luckily, he's here to show you the truth.

warnings : reader is Yuu and she's implied to be a girl ; swearing

a / n : HAD LOTS OF FUN WITH THIS ONE Y'ALL WO!!! Yuu betraying the NRC my beloved. Also I was definitely NOT writing this AND watching the event at the same time and that's definitely NOT why is it so short haha...

A TOAST TO @pomefioredove FOR INSPIRING ME!! Hope you like it <3 🫶🏻🩷

P.S : maybe some grammatical mistakes or weird wording, sorry, English ain't my first language :')

The horrors, the stress, the neglect about every single thing involving your mentality and your body... all of these curses that came upon you when you first set foot in the halls of Night Raven Collage could never be cured, could they? That's what you thought before you met him. He said he can save you...

Can he? Please, you have to let him save you...

The beautiful scenery in the main hall of Nobel Bell Collage never failed to catch your eye. The way the light of the sun illuminated the beautiful stained windows could never not be pretty. Compared to the dark halls of NRC, this school was twice as pretty, that's what you thought since coming here, but you'd never dare tell anyone, you didn't need another reason for people to look down on you as they always do.

“Something must've caught your eye for you to stop in your tracks like that, no?” The voice coming from behind you was as calm and neutral as ever. You caught with the corner of your eye the figure stopping right next to you, looking where your eyes did just a moment ago. “Well, you're never wrong are you?” You let out a silent laugh, at which the figure moved his eyes in you. “The glass...is beautiful. It never fails to amaze me. You don't see this at Night Raven” Your eyes went up to look at the glass again, the one next to you looking in the same place you were. “Hm, your comments make me think that Night Raven Collage isn't that amazing of a school that everyone would die to go in” You snorted at his snarky remark right before covering your mouth. You'd think he hates everyone from that school, but again, maybe he is, at how is looking at them, who can say he doesn't? “Didn't take you for the humorous type, Rollo„

Ah there it is again. Ever since you came here, Rollo can't seem to get tired of the way his name rolls off your tongue. He's heard about you, the magicless prefect who's came from another world. And goodness, you're... perfect. Everything about you, is absolutely perfect. Your face, your voice, your silhouette, everything about you... and on top of all you're so... pure. So pure, he can sense it, the essence of it right in your soul, he wishes to keep it to himself forever, he'd never let anyone touch something so pure and beautiful. Stain it with their dirty magic.

He looked at you again, your form snickering oh so close to his body. “Was it really that funny? I was simply saying what is on my mind...” Your laughing came to a stop, now having your attention fully on him. “I know, it's just the way you said it is all. It was funny. And I mean, you are kind of right. Sure Night Raven is a big school, no denying that. But! I guess you could say the inside is a bit... boring” At your words Rollo let out a laugh himself. “Hmph! Boring? I've known you for a day and I'm sure you can find a better word than boring„ “Meh, I don't wanna be mean is all” Your kindness was also something Rollo adored about you. He can see who you are under all that fake kindness you put on for your little friends at NRC. Right under all of that, the essence of your soul is naked under his praying eyes. He knows you're tired, tired of that school. Maybe he can use that for himself.

The songs and happy voices of the many people surrounding you were loud but not entirely unwelcome. After each group that was made earlier today finished their stroll through the busy streets, it was now time for everyone to gather in one place for the big show. You were currently sitting next to Rollo, watching from far away the boys who were having fun creating fireworks for the townfolk.

You couldn't help but scowl at the sight. It was so irritating, but why exactly...? “Are you alright?” Rollo's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Judging by that scowl on your face, I'd say you're ready to rip everyone's heads off” You looked at him, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye, and just for a second, you caught a glint of amusement in them. He was joking. How is it that he only does it when he's with you? You've been observing his actions ever since you came here and he seems to be a totally different person when he's with you. The handkerchief that always seems to be present when he speaks with other people, he never has it when he's with you.

Isn't it weird?

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'm ok. I just...well...” The silver haired boy turns his head to fully look at you, waiting for an answer “I just... don't like the loud music, at all. It always gives me the biggest headache” Rollo let out an almost silent hm, and looked in front of him again. A minute passed before he spoke again.

“Who are you trying to lie to? Me or yourself?”

...what?

The weight of his glace almost crushes you. You could feel his sharp emerald eyes looking at you, no... looking through you, you knew damn well that right now the one called Rollo Flamme was looking straight into your soul, ready to burn it to ashes at any moment.

You turned your head away from him, unable to return the gaze. “I... don't know what you're talking about, Rollo. I'm not lying to myself at all. I told you the truth” He didn't stop looking through you. “Is that so? Because when your eyes are directed exactly to your little friends over there, it's hard to think that it's just the music that's bothering you” You were at a loss of words.

He was right wasn't he?

He knew

Of course he did

After all why bother hide it anymore?

You hated their guts...

You HATED that school

You hate THEM

YOU HATE IT

YOU HATE THIS DAMNED WORLD.

This time, you looked him straight in the eyes. And he knew, Rollo finally realized he got it. He was almost shocked at how easy it was to crack your fake facade. You were like him weren't you? You hated magic just like he hated it. You loathed the evil-doers of this world, the magic users. He knew he was right, he knew he was right to fall in love with you.

He couldn't help but smirk when he saw your eyes. So much hatred. My, how he loved that look of yours. “And what do you plan on doing now?” Your voice took a much more serious tone than earlier. He simply let out a laugh. “Me? Why nothing at all. All I need you to do — Rollo fully turned his body to you, slowly leaning to look into your eyes — is to listen to what I have to say”

The music of the festival could be heard even from the depths of the wall of the waterway tunnels. Rollo was guiding you, with a lantern in his hand, through what seemed like an endless darkness. And after what seemed like an eternity, you were the first one who spoke. “So what exactly do you plan on doing? You haven't explained anything to me at all Rollo” He kept walking, not saying a word. More minutes passed and you were getting more and more annoyed, when was he going to- “Why is it that you hate your friends so much? When I first saw you I could hardly tell you hated their guts” You fell silent at his question, why is it that you hate them? After all ever since you came here- ...oh, that's right. You know don't you? “You want the truth? I'll tell you. I simply hate their guts. Ever since I came here I have been nothing but an obedient little dog to them. Cleaning all the mess they did after every overblot I was the one to clean the mess. Trouble? That idiot Crowley has me going to solve it. Students fighting? Of course, I'm the one to blame. I'm fucking tired, I'm so damn tired of all of them. No one, not a single one at that school has ever cared to check on me, because who cares?!? I'm a magicless student aren't I? I don't have feelings or anything right? I'm just a damn MAGICLESS HUMAN WHO LISTEN LIKE A FUCKING DOG!”

Rollo didn't flinch at the sudden punch you landed on the wall next to you. You stopped walking a while ago, fully turned to you, Rollo watched your actions carefully, seeming to enjoy how you slowly became a victim to your own hatred, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark hole you made for yourself ever since stepping into this world. Stepping closer to you, Rollo raised your chin to look him in the eyes, the light of the lamp allowing you to see his beautiful yet empty emerald eyes. “See now? That's exactly why I guided you here. Your hatred for them is exactly what I need. So beautiful and so dangerous it is” Moving closer, he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair. “What are you?-„ “So pure and so beautiful you are” You widened your eyes, your face growing warmer at his somewhat bold statement. He let go of you, grabbing your face once again, this time his being closer than it was before, the lamp illuminating half of his face as you saw the look in his eyes.

A predator's look. The intensity in his eyes was telling you everything. He waited for you to reach your breaking point so he can finally devour you whole. Just like a wild animal would do this his poor and hopeless pray.

“Tell me now, Y/N. I can save you, get rid of all those dark thoughts from your head, give you a better life. I can protect you. All you need to do, is give me your word. Let me be your sanctuary” Your breathing became heavy...can he? Can he truly save you? You'd wished to escape this for so long, you're so tired. You'd let him-

“Please, Rollo... — you grabbed onto his clothes, afraid that if you'd let go he'd abandon you just like the others — I'll- I'll let you. Please, be my sanctuary” Rollo's eyes flickered with raw desire. “Very well then”

The lamp in Rollo's hands dropped on the floor as his hand held your chin so you could look in his eyes. His other hand entangled into your hair, finally pulling you for a long awaited kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, every ounce of self control disappeared. He'd been waiting for this longer than he dared to admit. If only you knew what you were doing to him. You eagerly returned the kiss, your hands diving into his hair, careful to not let his hat slip off his head, lips moving in perfect harmony as you've done this hundreds of times before. And when you parted for the first time, your panting echoed through the dark halls.

You looked at him with red cheeks, and before you could stop it you let the words “I love you„ spill from your mouth. You knew your confession came out in a trembling voice, even if you didn't know why. Rollo looked at you and once again he kissed you, this time harder and urgent. He knew you knew he was telling you the same, that what he can't put into words he'll put into this kiss.

A long while passed until you two parted. Damned oxigen, you thought. The silver haired in front of you brought you closer to his face so that your foreheads touched. “How can you be magicless when I can swear that you bewitched me somehow. I'm not myself when I'm with you, did you know that? The things you do to me...” You giggled at his remark, kissing him once more which he happily returned. “Yeah? Well, I'm glad it's me. I'm glad you chose me Rollo” He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Picking up the lamp from the floor, he took your hand and guided you now towards the light that shot up at the end of the tunnel. “Come now my dear, I'm sure you'll like what you're going to see”

The many candles in the Nobel Bell Collage hall illuminated brightly. The students who came for the symposium were all gathered in the hall, waiting for whatever was to come. Suddenly, the loud sound of the bell echoed through the whole school. “The Bell of Salvation? At this time of the night?” Silver looked around him surprised by the tolls of the bell. “If I recall, we were told that the bell tolled there times a day no? Once in the morning, then evening and night. And I'm pretty sure we heard the toll for the night some hours ago. So what could the reason for this one be? Riddle's face twisted in confusion, his brows furrowing trying to figure out what's going on. “U-uhm, am I the only one who's seeing t-that?” Upon hearing Idia's voice, everyone looked in his direction.“What's that? A flower??” In front of them, growing from the ground, there was a beautiful crimson flower, one that had its petals beautifully colored just like wild flames. “What's a flower doing in the middle of the-” *crack* Another one made its way through the floor, cracking the tiles in the process. And then another, followed by thousands slowly covering the whole hall. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Sebek's voice echoed through the hall now full of crimson flowers. “Evreyone! They-they passed out!” In the blink of an eye, every single student who got close to the flowers had passed out cold and they couldn't be woken up.

Fire Lotuses. Dangerous yet beautiful flowers that supposedly went extinct centuries ago. These flowers grew by feeding themselves with magic, sucking it out of people leaving them with no ounce of magic to live with. The methods of extinction were not revealed, therefore there was no way to stop them.

Fighting and fighting, the students tried but there was no end to those flowers, if they can't use magic then they can't do anything. “Y/N! Make sure you stay beh-...what?” Deuce had called for you, but he now realized...you were nowhere to be found. “Y/N?!? NO! SHIT! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hearing his calls, the others looked around them, you were nowhere in sight. “GRIM! Did you not see where she went?!?” Sebek picked up the panicked cat, who had thought you came back with him, your quietness being a normal thing at school so he didn't bother checking if you were truly there, blaming himself for your disappearance. “I-I don't know! I thought she was behind me I swear!” On the verge of crying he started shaking in Sebek's arms, the boy putting him down taking pity on him. “WE NEED TO FIND THE PREFECT NOW! AND SEE TO WHAT CAUSED THESE FLOWERS TO APPEAR!” Next to the loud green haired boy, Malleus was looking up the stairs in the hall. “Hm, perhaps, we should ask him” Sniffling, Grim looked in the direction of Malleus' eyes. “Him? Him who?” And just after, steps could be heard on top of the stairs, indicating who was watching from afar.

“Standing in this hall while everyone else is passed at your feet is quite pitiful. Don't you think?”

And there he was. The students looked at the top for the stairs that now revealed Rollo's steady figure stepping out of the shadows. “YOU HUMAN! DID YOU DO THIS?” Sebek's voice boomed once again in the halls, at which Rollo merely laughed. „Who me? Yes I did, I did it so I can rid this world from magic of course” “Riding the world of magic? THAT'S ABSURD!! You damn wicked villain!” “SHUT IT! — the first time Rollo's voice was raised, the halls trembled at the sound — ME?! I'M THE WICKED VILLAIN?? What about you? You mages tricking the world with your stupid little magic tricks?! You mean nothing but trouble! But I!- I will rid this world of your kind, making it a better place!” He laughed as he talked, the looks of the ones amongst the flowers now flaming with anger. “You're a coward! Come the fuck down and face us if you're so determined of getting rid of us!” “No time for that Deuce! — Riddle grabbed the first year's shoulder — we need to find a way to get rid of these flowers before their thorns find a way into the soil” Another laugh from Rollo could be heard. “Too late for that! Just as we're speaking, the whole city is getting covered in flowers, and soon enough the whole island! You've got nothing left to do!” The flowers slowly started getting closer to them, leaving them helpless, just then, Deuce had realized what was missing from Rollo's speech. “You- WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO Y/N?!” Rollo's calm and collected eyes met Deuce's angry ones, smiling at his expression he let out a silent laugh. “Hah! Ask her that yourself won't you?”

Step step step

One by one, the expression of the students went from anger to shock. You. It was you who was now next to Rollo standing straight and looking down on them from the stairs, the same flowers that were now surrounding them, was present in your hair. “Y-... Prefect...?” Deuce couldn't believe it, what were you doing, what-what are you doing with him? “Prefect?! What do you think you're doing?!” Sebek's voice boomed once again. “You're with the enemy you filthy traitor?!” Looking right back into Deuce's eyes seeing his despair, that didn't sit right with you, Deuce has never done anything wrong, but again, did he really care...?

“I truly am so sorry Deuce. You did nothing wrong, really. But I'm so tired you know?” “W-what is that even supposed to mean Y/N? Is it me? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did I'm sorry! But why would you do such a thing?” “Because I can't take it anymore. I'm done, Deuce. I've been treated like a damn dog every second I stayed at that school. No one, not a single person has ever thought of checking up on me, seeing if I'm ok, not even you did. I needed to be saved, Deuce, and Rollo, Rollo told me he'd save me. And he did! I feel so much better now that he did” Empty eyes were staring into scared blue ones. Deuce understood, in a way. And the fact that he hadn't even thought about checking on you earlier... maybe if he did none of this would've happened. “Grim. I really am sorry. This time I can't accompany you anymore. Seems like you'll have to become a great mage without me” Shaking next to Deuce's legs, was a crying Grim. “Hench-human...”

This time, the looks you gave to the ones left was boiling through them. “You all deserve this. You all are some egoistic monsters you know that?” Malleus' steeped forward trying to reason. “Child of man this is not the-” “QUIET! You don't get to talk Malleus. You're just like them after all, you've always been haven't you?” Rollo was enjoying this too much. The expressions those idiots Night Raven Collage students had on their faces was priceless. But as much as he'd love to stay more, you both had work to do. “Now now Y/N. I'm afraid we have to go. We have work to do, remember” He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you responded by putting one of yours in his. “Enjoy your last moments”

And with that, the floor around them was gone, leaving them to fall in complete darkness.

[thefirstknife]

Hi! I was wondering if you could explain the lore surrounding Saint and how he says he looked up to us? That whole time fuckery always confused me + the Vex apparently made him a tomb? What was that about? I really just have no idea what happened in Season of Dawn

Yes!

So, we should start with Osiris being exiled from the City (some time around the Twilight Gap, unclear when exactly, but vaguely at that time). Osiris packed his stuff and left to go do his research in peace; he went to Mercury for the Infinite Forest.

This upset Saint a lot and he decided to go after him. He even left a letter for him which destroys me every time:

Ship's Final Log: Osiris. I hope whatever you find in this place is worth it. My recommendation to install you as Vanguard Commander was not a gesture to stroke your ego. It was an order to stay and help the City achieve all that it could. An order you refused to follow. News of my demise will no doubt reach you late. I can already see your response—the guilt that will follow, however fleeting. I thought you had changed after Six Fronts; that seeing your people on the brink of destruction and spared from death would be reward enough to stay. To fight. I'll fight in your stead one last time.

However, note the following at the end:

To my inspiration. Your final gift to me I now send back to you. It will be good to see you again.

This was very bizarre at the time because there was no context to this. While we knew some little bits and pieces of Saint's story before, it wasn't until Curse of Osiris that we got the proper introduction.

Fast forward, Saint entered the Forest after Osiris and got lost in there. He wandered a lot, fought the Vex, eventually got them so upset that the Vex put all of their resources into constructing a special Vex Mind that was capable of draining Saint's Light. When they succeeded, Saint died in the Forest. The Vex were so impressed that they came to respect him enough to make a tomb for him in the Forest:

Finding this tomb was a quest in Curse of Osiris: links to the full questline. When we got to the tomb, we took information from Saint's body and used it to forge his gun: Perfect Paradox. The lore on it is also very peculiar, addressing someone that Saint looked up to. Again, we could only speculate at the time because we didn't have the whole story, but it appeared there was some sort of weird shenanigans here that potentially involved us, the player. Important:

All I have left is this weapon. The Cryptarchs say you crafted it yourself, built it out of scraps and Light and sheer will, inside the Infinite Forge.

We did indeed do that. But how can Saint know that and why is he addressing us? We've never met him; he disappeared into the Forest long before we existed.

It would take 3 years for this to be resolved, in Season of Dawn. In Season of Dawn, Osiris revealed that following our discovery of Saint's tomb, he went to work on creating the Sundial. The sole purpose of the Sundial would be to essentially allow entry into Saint's personal timeline and past, to find him in the right moment, and save him from certain death. Osiris tried to do this himself and failed. For some reason, he could not find the right Saint in the right moment. He begrudgingly gave up and put the Sundial away.

When it was discovered by the Psions and used for their nefarious purposes, Osiris told us about this briefly and let us give it a shot to try and find Saint. He advised against it and deemed it "an impossible task." However, unknown to him (and us), we were the link needed to make this possible.

We went in there and we found the right Saint in the right moment. We found him desperately fighting against the Eliksni on Mercury in his personal past, during the Dark Age. We met up with him and helped him win. After that, we talked to him. Saint seemed super defeated and hopeless, but Ghost then told him about the future where people are safe and showed him a projection of the City from the future. We also gave him the Perfect Paradox. Our Ghost pulled our weapon that we made and gave it to Saint.

The Shotgun you crafted in the Infinite Forge is reacting to the Sundial! An onboard transponder is broadcasting coordinates: a path through the Sundial, crossing two time periods. The prophecy blueprint you used to create the Perfect Paradox must have included this broadcast.

This was the link between us and Saint that allowed us to use the Sundial to save him in a way Osiris could not. The gun is a bootstrap paradox: it exists "out of nowhere" basically. We give it to Saint in his past and we pick it up from his body in the future and then we take it back to the past and give it to him. Saint had information needed to craft it because we gave him the gun, but we only gave him the gun because he had it in the first place.

Saint takes the weapon and we leave him in his personal timeline, but to him, at the time, we're a hero who saved him and showed him a future where the City thrives and people are safe. He kept that hope with him and considered us someone who inspired him to do better and to fight. He could never explain who we were, because for everyone else we did not exist yet: Saint only met us because we showed up from the future to meet him.

We end up going back to the Sundial to find Saint again in the right time when he's found by the Vex Mind designed to drain his Light. Only this time he doesn't fight alone and we save him, essentially changing the course of time. Saint doesn't die; we save him and he's able to stay in the Forest until we can open it from the outside years later in the present day.

Saint never forgot about us and how we saved him and gave him the shotgun. He spent his life with us as an inspiration; someone who appeared out of nowhere and promised him that one day the City will be safe and people protected. It kept him going, even when nobody really understood what he was talking about. Osiris also mentions this when we finish the quest:

In his youth, he talked often about the Guardian who inspired him. I should have guessed it would be you.

Osiris I promise that it's okay that you couldn't guess that Saint was talking about a Guardian time travelling from the future.

I definitely recommend checking out both quests for this whole thing, they're really cool, especially the ones from Dawn because they're more expansive and also Saint is alive there. But the setup from Curse of Osiris is really neat because they heavily hinted at Saint coming back since then. Both the exotic ship and the shotgun itself have lore that clearly reference Saint having already met us, a plotline that we waited 3 years to resolve.

Hopefully that makes a bit more sense!

[ravencincaide]

 Not everything is as it seems 

Summary: You had every right to be angry- furious- at Chuuya, and no amount of apologies or tears was going to change that. In fact, you were considering breaking off your engagement that very second, packing your things, and leaving while putting put your relationship on hold- though just sleeping alone after months apart would do the trick. OR the time you find out that communication is both the greatest strength and weakness in your and Chuuya’s relationship. 

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 30: Cuddling + an independent part two for ‘And The Truth is Out’ Warnings: Cursing, drinking, rash decisions, guilt, tears, hurt, comfort, FLUFF and a little bit of suggestive sweetness. 

Enjoy~

You pressed three fingers to the bridge of your nose, eyes shut tightly. You were doing your absolute best to handle the onslaught of emotion which washed over you in steady, suffocating waves; anger, frustration, annoyance, humiliation and guilt, And with them came a pounding headache which all served as a brief preview of the hangover you were certain to experience the following morning.  

“ So Chuuya, tell me once again how you did it for me or, well, what was it you said? ‘With me as the only thing on your mind’?“ you muttered, not opening your eyes or even turning to face him. If anything you dug your fingers even deeper into the bridge of your nose, your nails leaving small crescent markings on your skin. 

You heard him groan; a tortured sound as if repeating what he just said was a punishment in and of itself. A kind of sadistic torture that was on par with Dazai’s methods. “ Please” he sighed, a heavy, tired, drained sound “ Once was enough- don’t you think?” 

You growled in warning, a rather weak sound, but it was sufficient to have him tense beside you on the couch. Undoubtedly he was well aware of how angry, no, furious you were at him. Still, Chuuya hesitated. You could practically hear him chewing his lips to shreds as a pitiful distraction from your words. No, he chose silence over admitting his own fuck-up for a second time. A moment longer, then he reached for the almost finished fancy bottle of wine on the table. 

The one he bought, the one you stole at the beginning of the night.

He shook it slightly, raised an eyebrow at how little was left, and then sighed. Clearly not in the position to school you for the barbaric way you consumed Chateau Lafite. No, Chuuya valued his life more than wine and his relationship with you over the temptation of bringing up your wine consumption. Even if he had been right in his assessment that you needed something significantly stronger than wine to deal with this day and the issues that kept pilling up in your lap like a morbid magician trick. No, Chuuya was a lot of things, but he was not stupid enough to add more fuel to the fire by repeating himself or offending your drink consumption. 

Especially when you had heard him loud and clear the first time and were already walking the fine line between tipsy and wasted, or better yet, balancing the tightrope between someone he could actually reason with and.. Well,..his own definition of hell.

The silence dragged on for only a few moments before your anger finally reached a burning point; “ No, Chuuya, you’re going to explain to me exactly what you mean by the fact that you cancelled the restoration of my great-grandmother's wedding dress, forgot to pick it up. While also ordering another dress that, surprise, surprise, won’t be here in time for the wedding!” Your voice echoed around the apartment. Your hand dropped away from your eyes as you turned to face your fiance- now degraded to boyfriend- who once again wiped at his eyes. 

“ I told you, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to find out like this- m’bad I thought the store called ya. But honestly, doll, that dress was ugly, and no way in hell am I letting m’girl walk down the aisle looking like a breaded condom!” Chuuya snapped back, tiredness and tipsy shifting his position from grovelling to something snappier as he pressed the back of his hands against his eyes. 

You gaped at him, a flash of hurt at his words, then a look of horror drew on your face as your drunken mind took his words literally and conjured up an image—a look which somewhat resembled the above-mentioned once-treasured-family-hairloom dress. 

You sighed, then ran a hand through your hair. The disappointment that the dress was gone was still eating away at you. Accompanied by a sense of humiliation at the description of said dress that Chuuya so unkindly used,  More importantly, however, there was anger, something between frustration and rage at the prospect that your so-called soon-to-be would rather hide and exchange dresses behind your back while on a mission away from home instead of coming up and talking to you. No, the anger in the pit of your stomach did not allow you to let him off the hook just yet. 

The devil on your shoulder probed for you to break up with Chuuya then and there- if that was how he acted prior to marriage, only the devil knew the kind of manipulative bastard he could become once the ring (or noose) was tied around your finger. While the angel on your shoulder whispered he did it entirely out of care and love for you; Chuuya knew how much the dress meant to you, but he was also very aware that your already shaky reputation could be affected negatively by said dress. Not to mention how it would affect Chuuya’s image as an executive of Port Mafia if he let his soon-to-be become the butt of the underground society joke. 

Perhaps you did not need to be too harsh on him; a week on the couch and a half-cold shoulder would probably be more than plenty to make sure he never again tried to mess with your clothes, body or choices. Although you’d never admit it, but being separated from him for a few months may have affected your decision in his favour. 

If only slightly.

Admitted defeat, you turned to face him; “ And the tears? Surely you’re not such a pussy to cry about the dress now” you asked, your eyebrow raised as you finally looked at him, twisting and turning on the couch beside you, if not in pain, then in the very least huge discomfort. The sight of it tugged ever so slightly at your angry heart; not enough to cuddle and kiss him but sufficient to ask what the issue was. 

“ ‘Course not, baby, it’s these godamned fucking cheap ass lenses that I can’t get out. Fuck” Chuuya moaned in pain as he pressed the back of his hands against his eyes, somewhere between wanting to claw his eyes out together with the lenses and desperately trying to get the irritated tears to stop streaming down his cheeks. 

You were not even going to ask why he wore ‘cheap ass lenses’. Sometimes you just did not want to know. 

“ Come here”, you sighed and reached beside the couch towards the drawer. There you pulled out a hand sanitiser and squirted some foul-smelling liquid onto your hands before rubbing it in. “ Lay your head in my lap before I change my mind.” 

Chuuya did not need to be told twice. He dropped sideways, his body weight sprawling mostly on the couch with his head landing right in the middle of your lap with heavy, almost painful duns, knocking off his hat in the process. You glanced at it only briefly, feeling the tiniest bit of pity for the way it landed on the floor before you turned your attention back down to Chuuya. He had removed his hands from his bright red eyes, tears still streaming down his cheeks. 

The sight was pitiful, but the still burning rod of anger in you left little pity or warmth in your tone—just frustration at how childish he could be. Like an oversized five-year-old, “ You know you did that to yourself, right?” you muttered as you leaned over him and raised your clean fingers towards his eye. He didn’t even flinch, though his sensitive eye twitched several times as you touched the bottom edge of the lens and slid it downward, pinching it ever so slightly off his eye. It popped out without much difficulty;  “ Your eyes are damned sensitive to everything, and you thought it was a fantastic idea to pop some lenses in?” 

“ Come on, babydoll, have mercy” he pleaded as you purposefully took a long moment to discard the first lens before reaching towards his second eye to repeat the process. Once done, Chuuya let out a groan of relief before he wiped the last of the wetness off his cheeks. His eyes were red, irritated and likely hurt a lot, but they were already better than before you took the lenses out for him. 

Without another word; you motioned for him to sit up. Then you stood up and confidently walked towards the bin, discarding the lens. Instead of returning to the couch, you picked up your forgotten phone and reminisced wine from the couch table. 

“ Sweetheart-”

“ No Chuuya, you get the couch. So just stay there and think about your behaviour!” you grumbled, then yelped as you felt a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards until your ass once again made contact with the soft leather. A little maneuvering, some gravity manipulation and you were sandwiched between the back of the couch and Chuuya, his hot breath hitting your ear, his arms cuddling you closer to his chest. 

“ Fair enough, Sweetheart, but you never said I had to sleep alone”, he purred, a smirk evident in his words as he began pressing kisses all over your skin. If apologies and explanations couldn’t pacify your anger, then maybe this will…  

Author note:  This fic was inspired by the following dress. So if I had to see it, so do you. No, but honestly, re-reading the comments on the independent part one of the fic made me want to write something that wasn’t cheating but also equally complicated. IDK if I succeeded but ehh I had fun. Hope you did too

Until next time 

Raven 

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[aihaitahm]

Hello! Do you mind doing headcanons of dan heng, blade and jing yuan with a reincarnated s/o?? Like their s/o died in the past long ago in a war or something but got reincarnated again, the s/o doesn't remember them right away, thank you so much in advance ❤❤❤

hsr men and how they react to reuniting with reincarnated! s/o!

cw death, ooc? gn! reader, more in depth abt blade’s lore so i hope its correct !! been looking into it. kinda angst —> comfort.

sorry for the wait!! been busy but hope u like it:3

characters: dan heng, blade, jing yuan

dan heng

up to this day, he remembers the promises you both made, what you liked, disliked and everything about you. although reminiscing does not hurt him like it used to, it still makes him long for your presence.

the type to get dreams of you and when you tell him in his dreams that you will most certainly meet again, he is patient enough to wait. maybe it was foolish to rely on dreams but his desire to meet you and love you again is immeasurable.

time passed by and dan heng was still waiting, wearing the bracelet you always wore. he would always fiddle on it when he is worried. maybe he should stop waiting? but what if you appear when you stop waiting?

when himeko and welt came back from an expedition, they brought in a new member of the astral express. their name happened to be (name) and they happen to have similar features to the one dan heng has always remembered.

dan heng’s eyes widened as he realized his dreams were correct. you were correct. he continued to stare at you while doing your introduction. you looked ethereal, you looked timeless as if youve never aged the last time hes seen you and it was like youve always been alive.

you caught up on his staring after you introduced yourself to the astral express and vice versa. you somehow cant put a finger on why he does look familiar but you felt at ease just being with him.

“um… dan heng correct? we have the same bracelet, can i ask where did you get it from? also do i know you?”

“i got this from someone who i used to know and their name was also (name). they made it for me.”

blade

after sacrificing himself to become a blade, his memory of you was not the best however he still felt the same intensity of emotions he held whenever he remembers your name. he doesnt know if its a blessing or a curse.

despite being blade, some parts of him is still ren. and ren has intense feelings for you. blade for some reason remembers the last argument you both had before you died. you were concerned about him possessing and delving into more power which lead to him being defensive and arguing with you.

as much as blade likes remembering you, your touch, your love and you in general, he cant help but harbour some guilt and sadness. he’d prefer if he left your name alone in peace. even though he wants to get to know you again and apologize, what was the point if you were dead. if your lives werent meant to meet each other again in any universe? it would be best if he just forgets about you.

fast forward and his bad luck struck him or this is probably in elios’ script but he was now arrested by the cloud knights of xianzhou alliance. it wasnt much of big of a deal to be honest but while in his cell, one of the cloud knights didnt have a helmet on, guarding his room.

he caught a glimpse of your face and this unlocks a lot of his memories as ren. how… timely, ironic it was to be held captive by your own reincarnation. its as if the heavens really planned it from the start.

you felt him staring at your face and which you snarled asking if theres something wrong. he just continously stared and smirked. you couldnt shake a feeling of familiarity with blade but aeons its an unbearable feeling but why would you say this to the general or other cloud knights… they might just interrogate you.

“you know if youre not going to answer my question well so be it. i know ive seen you in my dreams. i know we’ve met before. i know you know me from somewhere. but who are you?”

“you are bold as ever… but you should maybe figure out things on your own? its no fun giving you all the answers is it not? my new appearance is a clue, i’ll give you that.”

jing yuan

you knew jing yuan as your sparring mate whenever he was under jingliu and you under a different master. you both trained to becoming the strongest and maybe compete for the highest title of the alliance.

you sparred almost everyday with him. he enjoyed every moment he has with you. whether it was going for walks or eating food with you, it is a cherishable moment for him and you too. as you both grew into your teen years, you both happened to confess at the same time and became official.

unfortunately, your death caught up with you quickly. jing yuan was still quite young to experience grief but it didnt hinder him to train the hardest. jingliu wasnt in particular fond of you in the first place since you were distacting him.

without letting his master know, jing yuan would write letters to you everyday about what hes doing and how much he loves you. wherever you are he knows you both are in the same world or universe one way or another. he keeps most of your possessions because he believes it is his goodluck charm.

when he became general, he still wrote letters to you and even ask some of his servants to make a mini statue of your weapon to be displayed, in exchange for great amounts of money. he deeply misses you and he knows he carries a great amount of responsibility now that he is a leader. he secretly prays he gets to meet you again, even for one last time.

one faithful morning, he stumbled across a familiar face while shopping miscellaneous stuff for his cute mimi because he accidentally bumped into you pretty hard.

“ouch! be mindful of where you’re…. i-i apologize! i didnt mean to.”

“oh its alright it is actually my fault, i apologize. sorry to ask you this question but is your name (name)?”

“yes it is… why do you ask?

… on second thought i think you look familiar asides from the fact youre the general, i feel like i’ve known you before.”

[merakiui]

i agree with the assignments but hmmm... i think malleus should be gluttony and idia lust! I feel like the same reasons we can confuse idia for pride can be the reasons why he fits lust. Whereas the reasons malleus can fit greed, is why he's gluttony if that makes sense? Also when it boils down to it, i feel like malleus can be in a sexless relationship based on pure love but i can see idia blowing his lid if he gets continually denied. I also feel like malleus has more self control and even with biological ruts, he can hold back and not "make a mistake" where i feel like idia would downright demand darling to take care of his lust. I know we always joke abt shy subby uwu idia, but ppl forget who he represents and just how depraved he can be. It can get rlly dark w him and lust >_<. But malleus, i see more of like gluttony for life and experiences. I think nothing would make him happier than to be at the center of the table, surrounded by food and drink and company and having a ball of a time. Even as the night weighs on and people are exhausted, malleus wont dismiss them as yet because HE is enjoying himself and having a good time, to the point where he is the only one smiling at the table anymore and everyone else is tortured to be there because of his gluttony for companionship. Mal is a spoiled prince and if he lacked any less, he would be envy, but he has everything. He has a lot of pride too, but not infront of player, and when it boils down to it, Idia has desire, but Malleus really just has a hunger to be accepted and loved.

AAAA ANON, THESE ARE WONDERFUL POINTS!!!!! Very thought-provoking!!! I wanted to separate sex and lust for what I have in mind for the fic (and if I wasn't writing about the seven Overblots then Rollo would immediately take the sin of lust for very obvious reasons and symbolisms. <3). I definitely agree that Malleus and Idia fit lots of different sins and so it can be difficult to assign just one to them (as well as the rest of the cast, but it's a little easier for some of them,,, i.e. Riddle's infamous temper grants him wrath by default. Azul's insatiable avarice (when it comes to his contracts) grants him greed. Etc etc.)

I do think there is a solid difference between desiring something and hungering for it, but then they also pair well together from time to time. Perhaps desire gives way to hunger. To hunger for something is to do so out of desperation (in some cases), and since Malleus is such a lonely soul and has never truly had a connection in which someone looks past the lofty title of heir apparent and future ruler of Briar Valley it makes sense for him to hunger so desperately for that sort of connection. It's why he's unable to simply let Lilia go and why he doesn't want to lose him. He can't accept the finality of an ending or parting, which is why he puts everyone to sleep in hopes that they can all find happiness in their dreams.

I think you can also argue that Idia hungers a little in book six. He desperately doesn't want the job he's set to inherit, and even when he was little he wanted to find a way to escape with Ortho. But due to the circumstances and the curse of his lineage there's only so much that can be done, or so he views it as such.

Perhaps these sins are interchangeable with Malleus and Idia depending on how you frame it. They both desire and hunger for things in their own ways. Idia's guilt and stress overwhelms him and his idea of getting what he's always desired is to reset the world alongside Ortho. Malleus's loneliness and desperation to hold onto the bonds he currently has (his unwillingness to let these go, to accept the fact that everyone will inevitably grow old and that life goes on, his desire and/or hunger to be seen and accepted for himself)......... aaaaa it's great!!!!

Rambling aside, I do love the thought of Idia embodying lust and Malleus embodying gluttony. I'm still debating between the two, but now I'm inclined to lean more towards these assignments after reading your thoughts and dissecting my own. They're very fitting from your perspective!!! >w< also,,,, I like a very dark, messed up Idia, so perhaps pairing him with lust will make for very yummy concepts.

[witchlingcirce]

Listen it’s been a really long time since I’ve read the infernal devices but I feel like people really misunderstand Will’s behaviour

I don’t endorse bullying, nor do I think will behaved appropriately a lot of the times throughout the novels, However I feel like the books actively go out of there way to explain and express as to why Will behaves the way he does.

I think Will’s trauma and how he reacts to that gets really downplayed throughout the fandom, which is crazy to me because the whole situation with Ella and the reason for the curse is so predominant to his character! Like people put him in this box that he just acts out for fun… which is so inaccurate

Survivors guilt is such a massive factor to Will’s character. He accidentally unleashes a demon, he’s 12, His sister goes out her way to protect him and gets poisoned by doing so, said demon tells this twelve year old boy that everyone he loves will die, the next day his sister dies. He thinks his sisters death is HIS FAULT. He runs away not only because he thinks he killed his sister, he thinks he’s going to get his entire family killed.

What kind of mental load do you think this puts on a twelve year old? He’s not ever going to forget this moment ever. This is the reason why he acts the way he does, he thinks by making people hate him, that they won’t have to suffer the same fate that he has or that his sister has. Which adds onto the reason why he acts out the way he does, could you handle the idea that everyone around you will die? And it’s especially harrowing with his character because we see that he craves this kinda love from everyone (and he so much love to give… *cough* Jem being his greatest sin* cough)

And again I’m not trying to say Will is the most kindest person ever in the series- I just feel like this behaviour has been misinterpreted back and forth non stop! It’s just so weird. Like yes will was 100% an asshole but he has a reason for that, he’s not a bad personnnNNNNNN, LEAVE HIM ALONEEE

[oharaslove]

HI LOVIEESS!! Hope you enjoy this preview of my first series!! For some reason I love the concept of soulmates (bwoah, some reason, I know why, but let's stay mysterious for a while, haha), so I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and thinking about it.

word count: 900 summary: What happens when someone who believes no one can love him meets a person who only desires to love and be loved? disclaimer: All the events of this story happen after Spiderman Across the SpiderVerse (more info in Chapter 1) warnings: MiguelxSpider!Reader (also latina), soulmates, eventual smut? (still debating this, not because I don't want to, but my abilities to do so), eventual angst, fluff, injuries, talks about death (I'll update as I go on)

Also, I'll be putting songs in some Chapters, or all of them if I can find music that I find fitting (Even though I am trying to stick to Sleep Token). Anyway, the song to start it all:

<Masterlist>

𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬

Earth-928B

Spiderman 2099, Miguel O’hara, the leader of the SpiderSociety, one half of a whole. Nobody knows it, but he possesses an indelible mark in his body. For many, only a simple birthmark, for him, a constant reminder that there is someone out there who is his supposedly other half. The idea so stupid he stopped thinking about it, constantly at least, after he learned the truth about his biological father, Tyler Stone. 

In this Earth, in the year 2099, equal to the downfall of the “heroic age” where there were lots of superheroes, it was also the debacle of soulmates. There was an era where everyone was destined to meet the “love of their lives” and live happily ever after. Each person was assigned a match at birth, that was supposed to be their half, together being and feeling complete, represented by a distinctive mark. Only the children of soulmates could posses this “power” or destiny, or as Miguel liked to call it, a curse. 

As time went by, the people of Nueva York and all Earth-928B grew tired of waiting for that special person, and as a consequence soulmates started to disappear. For Miguel’s disgrace, Conchata and Tyler Stone were soulmates, which is part of the reason why he hates them so much. 

The mere idea of having someone destined to be with him repulsed him. He isn’t opposed to having a family, hence why he took the other Miguel’s place, but after losing Gabriella, he doesn’t trust himself. He isn’t capable of loving again, trusting someone, or so he thinks. 

There isn’t a reason why he thinks the universe (or universes) would give him someone to love him unconditionally. Miguel thinks that if his soulmate really exists, they will be like his mother and Tyler, destined to be apart, a love that never was supposed to happen, it would be a mistake, like HE is, in his mind.

Furthermore, he is Spiderman, he has a duty. Not only does he have to keep Nueva York safe, but also prevent the Multiverse from becoming shambles.  There is no time to care for someone, there is no time for love. “With great power comes great guilt”, a phrase he will never let down. He knows what he has to do, he is aware of the power he possesses. There is no time to mess around, and there is definitely not a second a day that he can waste trying to find someone who would, NO, will definitely hate him, doesn’t matter if they were bonded together or not. 

Even though he tells himself this every sleepless night, there is always a part of his heart or mind that yearns for comfort, for love, or at least, someone who can understand him. He knows it is impossible, or at the very best, improbable, given the fact that his so-called soulmate is probably only a regular human, so she will never understand, but deep in his consciousness, there is hope. Everytime he saves someone he believes he is a step closer, but there is always disappointment. So he drowns himself with work, trying to forget, trying to erase the idea that he was born to belong to someone, but instead fate gifted him with loneliness on this Earth, and in many others. 

Earth - 129

Y/n Y/Ln, the only Spiderwoman of Earth-129, the other half of a whole soul. Since you have memory, everyone has told you how important the weird shaped mark you had in your body was. It meant you had a soulmate, like almost everyone in your universe. Soulmates in your universe were sacred, as in Miguel’s, only children of soulmates could possess soulmates, but as the vast majority married and had kids with their own, most people have them. 

Obviously, your parents were each other’s soulmates, and you had the opportunity to hear how much they cared and loved each other. As you were growing up, you couldn’t wait to meet your other half, the person who was supposed to understand you like no other, to love you unconditionally. 

When you were born, unfortunately, your mother died, which caused your dad great pain. In your Earth, soulmates can feel each other’s pain and strong emotions, so your father felt how your mom slipped out of his grasp. He had hope they would leave this life together, as he didn’t know life without her, but fate had other plans. 

Even though this broke your heart, you never stopped looking for your soulmate, and your father never stopped encouraging you.

Now, in your twenties, 28 to be precise, everyone your age you know has met their soulmate. Friends, cousins, everyone!. Your friend was worried for you, he even started to think that something bad happened to your soulmate, because of the weird shape your mark has, but you still have hope. 

You’ve never been with anyone, so you don’t know how love feels, well, romantic love, but you know you have a lot to give. You can’t wait for the day you meet him. Every time you save someone during your patrols, you hope that it gets you closer to getting to know your soulmate. But you haven’t had luck yet. You only wish for your friend to be wrong, and your soulmate is somewhere on this Earth.  One of these days, you'll meet him, you feel it.

<Chapter 1>

Well, he isn’t on your Earth, is it darling?

Hope you liked it!! Let me know what you think!!

TAGS:

@oscarissac2099 @cupcakeinat0r @greensagephase

[orphiclovers]

Ya ever think Pre-Scenarios Yoo Joonghyuk went to church / ya think Yoo Joonghyuk has catholic guilt?

You would never get asked questions like this on any other site. Gotta love tumblr. And of COURSE I have thoughts on this that I will ramble on in great detail.

In general, I always try to be careful to not accidentally project my western understanding onto things with a different cultural context. Especially in regards to things like Christianity, since it’s not universal and…idk it would feel inaccurate to ascribe it to characters who wouldn’t realistically encounter it themselves? Not that you can’t, but I personally try not to. That's irrelevant with ORV though, they literally made the biblical Garden of Eden be a place YJH has been shirtless in. So I’m just going to go ahead and assume that all the Christian motifs I find are intentional and fair game lol

I’ll start with your second question: KDJ’s the one with the catholic guilt, not YJH. YJH has something much more sinister going on.

He gets two main monikers in canon - ‘Pilgrim of The Lonely Apocalypse’ and ‘Puppet of The Oldest Dream.’ In ORV your moniker basically reveals what your ‘story’ is all about. These two names are supposed to show what Yoo Joonghyuk represents, and my thoughts there are…

1. Puppet of the Oldest Dream

He’s the incarnation of the all-seeing and all-knowing god that created the world. 

What I’m saying is, he's a Jesus figure, alright? HEAR ME OUT. He is cursed to walk the world and suffer eternally to bring salvation to one man - at the end it's revealed that he willingly chooses to bear this burden (talking about 0th here). It’s that classic scapegoat story, bearing the sins of the world to save everyone else, but he's also choosing to do this, despite knowing it will be awful.

At the end of his regressions, when he breaks free of his chains, stops being a puppet, he finds himself lost and missing their weight. He had a terrible purpose in regression - without it, he's meaningless again.

2. As Pilgrim of the Lonely Apocalypse

He's literally called a ‘pilgrim’ - someone who goes on a journey to find god. Catholic guilt is about thinking you deserve to suffer for some perceived sins, but Yoo Joonghyuk already is in Hell. ‘Hell of Eternity’ specifically, which manifests with the Christian imagery of fire and brimstone. His ‘journey to find God’ takes him through a world of unimaginable pain and cruelty that he has to somehow find meaning in. (Both YJH and SP have different answers on what that meaning is in different points in their life. )

Needless to say, he has A LOT of imagery associated with religion.

On a more personal level, YJH is motivated by this ceaseless search for the meaning of his own existence. There's the extra layer there that he knows instinctively he was put on this earth for some grand reason, only no one ever tells him what it is. He’s cast into the world without memories and has to stumble through life blind, just like the rest of us. He desperately seeks someone who can tell him what he’s supposed to do, parent, god, prophet or anyone else. (Basically, he's an edgy atheist teenager.)

That’s why he never reaches his ‘▪️▪️’ - the cruel thing is that he can’t ever truly find his purpose, because he is driven by having an unreachable goal.

To answer your first question: Pre-scenarios Yoo Joonghyuk is busy trying to survive his shitty job and taking care of Mia. He doesn't have time for church or having a life or anything. All he can do is daydream of one day finding whoever created him and gave him life. He puts all his hopes on getting enough money to hire a private investigator and keeping this single goal in mind for years. 

He will meet his parents and they will tell him what he’s supposed to do right? The really fucked up thing is, he does eventually get there.

The investigators give him an address, which he visits but finds only an empty house. On the way back, he has a little bit of an existential crisis and starts really thinking about it all. even thinks the classic YJH ‘who am I?’ Then, not even one second later, THE FUCKING APOCALYPSE STARTS. THERE’S HIS ANSWER I GUESS!!!!!

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

Don't mind me but can you plz rant about colly a lil more... :3

I'll do you one BETTER @ch1-kasak0

I'm gonna talk about Colly AND do an accidental Cuphead analysis on the side lmao

I will say, it is crazy to me that years ago, one of the reasons I had for why I didn't like the idea of Cupanny was because I perceived Fanny as someone un-ambitious, who seemed to have a bleak outlook and no real hope for a better future, something that was completely antithetical to what Cuphead needed in his life.

Obviously I don't hold that viewpoint about Fanny anymore, but I do think it's funny how that critique of mine (which I never shared on here I should add and I regret it lol) came back around but in an unexpected way. The Labyrinth arc was genuinely the deepest look we've gotten into Cuphead. With the thing that hit me the most stepping into Cuphead's dream and really seeing how much of himself is consumed by the guilt he feels about making a deal with the Devil, was how that guilt had basically consumed his personhood in a way.

Mugman dreams of being a pilot for the Calix Animi, of marrying Cala and having a whole, completed family; that his parents never left, that his dad was alive; Mugman dreamed of a future for himself. A fantasy that could never really be real, at least mostly, but it was a future nonetheless. Everyone, except Felix who's a special situation given his circumstances, dreamed of a future. Something that they were fighting towards even after they left the Labyrinth.

Except Cuphead.

He could never envision a future for himself, because so much of what made up who Cuphead was as a child was stripped from him that he's essentially a husk of who he was. We saw the real Cuphead in his dreamscape. He had aspirations, and goals he wanted to reach. But when your whole is spent struggling to survive it's hard to have real goals and aspire to them. It's hard to dream a dream that you hope comes true.

And then the gala happened.

Something that seemed out of reach for someone like himself suddenly seemed like a real, genuine reality within his reach. All because of his love for Holly. His love for her made him finally see a real future. A real dream. For one second, Cuphead didn't think about a bleak horizon that he was walking towards, but instead a beautiful sunrise that he wanted to walk towards hand-in-hand with Holly and it says a lot. It really does. In my Cuphead analysis I did say that his dream was still him in the background playing the role of Cuphead the Supporter rather than playing an active role in his own future where his own ambitions and drive exist alongside Holly's. But it doesn't detract from how much his love made him see something that for the longest he never saw as possible and that means something. It really does.

But oh, bitch I'm not even done yet. Y'all asked for this!!!

There's this one scene, I'm too lazy to go back and find it again (EDIT: I couldn't find it for some reason so my source is trust me bro), where Cuphead and Holly, and maybe Mugs was there I think, were talking and Holly said something along the lines of "I like your childish side" (paraphrasing). And that stuck with me, because when, in the other previous relationships that Cuphead had, has he ever been told that being his actual true self is the part they like the most about him? That the sulking badboy persona who's all rough edges and mysterious isn't nearly as interesting as the real him.

The thing I think a lot of people sort of forget, is that for Cuphead it's not a persona, it's just who he is. Because everything else has been stripped from him via abuse and threats to himself and his brother. From unethical experiments forced on him as punishment, to beatings from the boss when they screw up a job, to being yelled and cursed out by Hat because they messed up during training, and so on. So much of who he is, who he was, was taken from him and all that's left is whatever identity Cuphead needs to put on in that exact moment. Mugman was right when he said that for Cuphead, it's always about the damn mission. Keeping him and his brother safe, desperately trying to right his wrongs, and just trying to not have anyone see his weaknesses means the Cuphead we saw before in the Labyrinth is a ghost. Someone else entirely. A speck in the distance that feels entirely out of reach now to Cuphead.

But there's this part of him that he's tried to keep safe and held close and we see that in the Wonderful Winter arc. When Cuphead and Mugman started chasing each other, throwing snowballs at one another, it's the closest we get to seeing Cup in a light where he's not putting on a persona; the real him. And Holly notices that, too. But not just that she notices that, but that she is intrigued by it enough that she wants to get to know him more.

Holly had a crush on Cuphead, but the Tree Princess chapter is where she really fell for him. Which makes sense cause that's the chapter where she truly realizes the depth there is to his character and how multifaceted he was as a person. He wasn't just a killer thug like she'd first assumed, but a true complex person, just like her and all the other Questers.

And I think that's fucking beautiful man.

Of course I'd love to gush about Cuphead's perspective on Holly, but there's not really enough to say outside of:

You know it's true love when you're willing to spill all your secrets to this one person; to bear your whole heart and soul to them if it means being able to have them back in your life.