#so i think i maybe need to just peace out of the fandom entirely. perhaps make a new blog. idk
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Maybe I'll spoil you guys and talk about Gwynriel and ACOTAR5 and anything related to it overall. I recently finished my HOFAS reread and have some fresh thoughts. I'll let my thoughts guide me and some of these points I've already addressed in my insta stories yesterday. I just rather share a lengthy post here since I'll only tag under #gwynriel.
I often see arguments about how Gwyn and Azriel can't move the plot forward because the series is centered on the Archeron sisters.
First, that's not true because Sarah is following what she called "a traditional romance route". She's following the same patterns of Nalini Singh, Kresley Cole, and Lisa Kleypas where they publish multiple books in the same series following different couples.
This is fitting for a series like ACOTAR because it's romance-centered. And Sarah have already said that each couple is getting one book and there will likely be more books beyond ACOTAR6.
Saying that doesn't dismiss the importance of the sisters to the story, Feyre already has a trilogy centered on her. The spin-off just follows different characters including the sisters.
I won't try hard to convince people on this because I've already posted almost everything Sarah said about the spin-off series and what's it's about. So if the next book is not centered on an Archeron sister, that's for Sarah to bamboozle the fandom with.
One thing that stuck out to me is when I compared the ending of ACOSF with the scene of Bryce giving Nesta Gwydion and seeming like she left Nesta with a new quest.
First, this is what the text says, and this is Chapter 80, the very last chapter in ACOSF:
Succeeding in the Blood Rite didn't mean the training stopped. No, after she and her friends told Cassian and Azriel most of the details of their ordeal, the two commanders had compiled a long list of mistakes that the three of them had made that needed to be corrected, and the others wanted to learn from them, too. So they would keep training, until they were all well and truly Valkyries. Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library.
1. The Valkyries are not yet a unit.
2. SJM only and specifically highlighted that Gwyn, despite the Rite, returned to living in the library. It was like "hey, remember all the talk Gwyn did about wanting to leave the library after two years? Yeah that's on hold a bit but keep that in mind". She didnt even add Emerie or the other priestesses to that sentence.
With Nesta being left with Gwydion to find out why the 8-pointed star was tattooed on her, I don't think the next book will start with "hey Elain take this sword and deal with it". Who are Nesta's main companions now? Gwyn and Emerie.
I'll be back to the Valkyries but let's just talk about Azriel for a bit.
It is so painfully obvious to me that Azriel is being handed the Illyrian plot on a golden platter. How big or small of a plot it is depends on SJM, but it's important based on the fact that she fleshed out the Illyrian's origins and tied them to the crossover AND making Truth-teller the knife of Enalius.
That is a big deal for an Illyrian like Azriel.
And I quote my friend Lacie on this, it is very poetic for Azriel to be the owner of the knife that originally belonged to the person who freed his own people from the Daglan's clutches, perhaps because he saw his people are more than just slaves to the Daglanâhow powerful would it be for Azriel, who loathes his own people, to parallel Enalius.
And for years some people were against Azriel dealing with this plot because he shouldn't make peace with his "abusers", its true his own family and some Illyrians failed him but he is condemning an entire population. Good people like Emerie and Balthazar. Even Rhys's mother, who had valid reasons to hate her people especially as a female, still made sure to make Rhysand connect with his Illyrian heritage and he even goes on to say that his mother didn't forget what they did to her but still loved her people.
If both Cassian and Rhysand (and by extension the author) continue to flag Azriel's hatred of the Illyrians as an issueâthen it is a damn big issue for it to be addressed repeatedly.
Okay so to address my final point about Gwyn and Azriel and how they can move the plot forward.
Now I didn't detail out much about what the next book will deal with because that's another post (and I already have a post on that).
All of our theories and predictions are based on information that is available to us. Saying Azriel and Gwyn cannot move the plot forward does not make any sense because the central plot is tied to multiple characters, Archeron or not.
If SJM wants to make a character move the next book's plot forward, she can do it because she's in control of the story. She's in control of the narrative. She's in control of the characters.
The characters are puppets and this is an unfinished story. If some characters would add more value and make for a more interesting story before the others, she can decide on that. If she wants to make Eris the protagonist of the next book, she can easily do that whether the fandom wants it or not.
Let me give you an example of minor characters that pushed the plot forward and became main characters: Yrene Towers and the Hind. These kind of arguments could've been used for them in HOEAB or HOSAB and Pre-TOD. Before HOSAB/HOFAS and TOD, could we have predicted that they would have played a crucial role before those books? Not likely because they had minimal appearances and were not part of the main cast. This is what I'm talking about.
You can't know how a character will contribute to a story until you see how it all unfolds. We can make guesses on the information we have which is why I believe three characters are likely to join the main cast: Gwyn, Emerie, and Eris.
Why is it so easy to accept that Emerie might be sharing a book with an original character like Mor but it's hard to comprehend the fact that Gwyn could also share a book with Azriel? Because Emerie showed up in ACOFAS? To me that's not really a strong argument based on Sarah's writing and what we have in the books, she doesn't really pick based on who showed up the earliest. Here's a good example: Hypaxia, who showed up earlier, didn't even get her own chapters but the Hind did.
And there's one argument I recall about how I need to rely on Nesta to have a plot focused on Gwyn or the Valkyries in the next book. Nesta's arc is clearly not over based on HOFAS, but does that mean she's getting a POV? Not necessarily. I don't think she is. Gwyn is the perfect candidate for us to see what's going on with Nesta post-HOFAS and how they all deal with the Valkyries and whatever Sarah will set up with them.
There is this whole Valkyrie/Illyrian conflict that could be triggered as a result of the Blood Rite, with Ramiel definitely being an important location to explore in the next book, we also have the Pegasi and the Prison and the implications of the crossover. It makes sense to have an Illyrian and a Valkyrie POV to deal with some plots in the next book.
"Gwyn contributes to nothing" we can't know until the book is out. How sure are we that maybe SJM won't connect her to the crossover by making her mysterious father a Worldwalker? Or Prince of Hel? Or an Asteri? Maybe I'm right maybe I'm wrong.
"But Koschei! And the Human Queens!" Koschei will always be a background player pulling on the strings until the final book as it's obvious he is the big bad in the series, unless someone even worse is revealed. But no one is dismissing Koschei or the Human Queens messing around.
Literally what's the point of the story or the fun elements of surprises or plot twists if you need Sarah to list down everything that the next books will deal with. That's not how a story develops to me. I don't need to know everything in advance to just know how it will go. That's like knowing spoilers early on and checking off with each book what happened and what didn't happen. I feel like it's close to how a lot of readers were disappointed with not having enough ACOTAR in HOFAS, because Sarah implied half of the book would be set in Prythian. So by the time the book came out and it wasn't that, people were vocal about it.
In my opinion, SJM set a good foundation for Gwyn's arc to build up on in ACOSF and her arc is not over. We won't get mentions of her still carrying the guilt of her sister's death or not leaving the library after she said she's sick of being there for two years without us seeing resolution for that. She wouldn't be in Azriel's bonus chapter if she is not involved with him.
To conclude, my reread still affirms to me that the next book with an Azriel/Gwyn book. Azriel is clearly being set in the forefront.
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guess what time it is! its end of season 4 thoughts time!!!!
they are going to be a lot more insane and outta order than in the past
1. the entire season they were yelling at us that lilith was the final seal and it pissed me off jfc
2. i forgot what it was like to lowkey hate sam, i hate it.
3. so cas was in love the whole time, right? RIGHT. like i know ive been ranting about it all season but are you KIDDING me
4. ruby is a bitch and i hate her so bad. but she was in it for the long game thats for damn sure
5. im REALLY not looking forward to the whole "sam gets haunted by lucifer" bit
6. i love cas, i really do, but he looked right in deans eyes, knew that he was doing this shit to him, and did it anyway. like he was probably tortured by the legions of heaven, but goddamn it
7. when i start making cain and abel comparisons all next season, i don't wanna hear shit about it. itll be my bout of insanity and i apologize in advance
8. i fuckin LOVE bobby
9. no body liked john winchester, they loved him, but they hated the son of a bitch
10. i never got to the point where chuck became TRULY the worst guy ever, but i know we as a fandom hate him, so i hate him.
11. i think demons eat babies and i don't know how i feel about that
12. i don't know who i hate more, uriel or zachariah. maybe im glad cas killed all the angels
13. like i get it but HOW did it take dean so long to realize heaven wanted the war too. they disappeared for weeks while lilith was breaking seals like a bull in a damn china shop
14. they keep doing that thing where one of the capital A angels does something shameful to dean, or dean questions his faith in the "Plan" and the camera cuts to cas looking like a sad puppy
15. ik ive said it 1000 times but goddamn those stupid lil boys need therapy
16. GABRIEL WAS TRYING TO WARN THEM, HE WAS TRYING AND HE COULDNT. THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU GABEY!
17. hey, in the last episode they killed a bunch of nuns, which like damn
18. back to sam, his dumbass really fell for the devil on his shoulder bit jfc
19. like i understand camera work, but two straight men don't stand that close to have a conversation. they just don't.
20. hey sammy, you throw a lady in a trunk, you stop being the good guy
21. at any point did they just consider... not doing that. maybe perhaps, waiting a week?
22. there was a thing with the mirrors and zachariah in the last ep, wasn't there? like that wasn't unintentional. mirrors are notoriously terrible to work with, that can't be unintentional.
23. i love that biblical fanfiction always somehow ends with an angel, a demon, and a human coming together to stop heaven and hell playing out a war on earth.
24. spn just proved you can't leave a bunch of corporate assholes in charge of a planet.
26. im really not looking forward to sam whining about starting the apocalypse for a whole season.
27. dean fighting tooth and nail for cas to see the truth in humanity. to find faith outside of heaven. cas seeing that and it breaking his morale a little bit more and more every time. cas repeatedly seeing dean, perfect vessel, perfect soldier, dean be willing to lose the promise of heaven, of peace for his little bit of humanity. it broke cas. and dean keeps begging cas to see it too. and they're going to drive. me. INSANE.
28. "we're done" those were the exact words dean said to cas.
29. so cas and dean can talk without saying anything, and i hate to say that means they're in love... but thats exactly what that means.
30. cas did it! he broke his faith, he sacrificed himself for dean. and now they're gonna kiss (ik they don't kiss but a boy can dream)
31. have i mentioned that sam pisses me the FUCK off! like yeah i blame ruby but goddamn.
32. this season was hell in a handbasket, jfc (no ounce intended)
omg! season for is done!! woooo! onto the most annoying and lowkey painful season ever! my takes and thoughts for season 5 are going to be annoying, so be prepared !
#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#destiel#season 4#supernatural spoilers#no spoilers for bee
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perhaps love
pairing: jungkook x (f) reader
summary: for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.
genre/tags: fluff, friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst, hurt & comfort, mentions of drinking & insomnia
word count: 12.5 k
a/n: no matter how many times i tear this story down, it will always come back swinging. perhaps love was the very first fic i wrote for the fandom and this story means a ton.
For as long as you could remember, you had loved Jungkook with all of your heart.
But the reality is, love seemed out of reach, a far stretch. Not when Jungkook was first and foremost your best friend.
The whole apartment was surrounded by darkness, except for the pure moonlight that seeped through your bedroom window. Your room was your favorite place in the world-- away from everyone, just you and the stillness. You had really bad sleeping habits and your insomnia has gotten worse over time. You tried everything to fall asleep, including hot showers and scented candles. Nothing worked⊠except for Jungkook.
Jungkook usually played games into the night as his own way to unwind from the stress of being one of the most sought-after graphic artists. When heâs not holding the console, heâs nose deep into his computer or tablet, illustrating his next commission. He just submitted his drafts for his latest clientâs marketing kit a few hours prior so he could afford to while away his time tonight. He walked to the kitchen to grab another can of beer when he saw your bedroom door slightly ajar. He padded his way through the hall and leaned against the doorframe, watching your peaceful expression
âCanât sleep?â
You turned your head in the direction of the bedroom door. Jungkookâs gentle voice that echoed through the quiet of their shared apartment was his other favorite place in the world.Â
âItâs always hard.â
Jungkook pushed the door further and went inside. You two had been living together for almost two years and Jungkook already knew the layout of the space like the back of his hand. He set the unopened beer can on the bedside table and went under the duvet with you. It had always been this simple-- it was either Jungkook grabbed an extra beer can and share it with you or coaxed you to sleep entirely. Tonight, it was the latter. Jungkook ran a hand up and down your back.
You felt a pang inside your chest. It was barely there but still felt. Tonight was different, lonelier. You closed your eyes, thinking that maybe this was just how it had to be.
âTell me what you need,â Jungkook muttered.
âGgukâŠâ you started. Jungkook hummed, ever so kind, so patient. âCan you help me sleep?â
Years of friendship made words between you comfortable and safe. Your insomnia started right around the time your dance studio was gaining more enrollees and by the end of a year, you already needed to hire a few more dancers and bigger studio space. Jungkook was there to witness all your hard work, sleepless nights trying to perfect a routine you had to teach every week. Jungkook was there to help you through the breakdowns and occasionally had to endure your spats, to which you apologized for with ramen and kimbap.Â
You and Jungkook go way back, but tonight itâs just the two of you and your shared present. Jungkook helped you lay down on the bed and your heart swelled . Jungkook lay on his side as he gently guided you to face him. In the calm of the night, you saw stars in Jungkookâs eyes. You willed yourself not to speak for fear of breaking the moment. Jungkook started to caress your cheek ever so lightly, eyes falling close as you reveled in the softness of how Jungkook took care of you. As Jungkook continued to comfort you, he started singing your favorite sleep song.
now playing:Â watch you sleep. by girl in red
Jungkookâs melodious voice rang through the room with much reverence. You both find yourselves busy in life, but you always, always come back home to each other-- and that thought makes your heart ache so much more. Tonight might be lonely, but you also treasured moments like this when you allowed yourself to surrender, to take pleasure in being with Jungkook. By the time he finished the song, you were already fighting to stay awake.
I want to be with you for longer. Â
âWhat about your game, Gguk?â
âI will play another round before I go to bed. Right now, youâre more important.â Jungkook tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. âIâll stay with you for as long as you need me to.â
âGguk-ah.â
A smirk found its way into Jungkookâs pretty lips. He knew what was coming next.
âCan you stay?â
It felt like the whole room stilled ten times over.
âI mean⊠just for tonight,â you quickly added, worried you mightâve said the wrong thing too late.
Jungkook gently got up from the bed and walked out the door, leaving you to wonder if you messed up. Yeah, you did , you thought. Was it that easy to mess things up? Was Jungkook really that uninterested? As you listened to Jungkookâs footsteps, you also heard the gameplay music coming from the living room abruptly stop. A few objects were heard being moved around until Jungkookâs footsteps once again became louder.Â
Jungkook said nothing as he closed the door to your bedroom, his weight sinking into the other side of the bed.Â
Oh, he came back, your mind dumbly said.
It was always familiar, that feeling of Jungkook being too close. You wished it never had to end. Jungkook slid an arm under you and the other caged you in closer to his chest. He dropped a light kiss to the top of your head and picked up where his hands left offâ grazing your spine.Â
âAre you cold?â
You swore you heard Jungkook smile through his words.
âNo. The duvet can cover us both, I think.â
âHmm. Iâll hold you through the night in case the duvet falls.âÂ
Jungkook placed another feathery kiss on your forehead. A few seconds seemed to have passed with nothing but comfortable silence, two hearts beating for one another.
âGoodnight, Jungkook.âÂ
You felt Jungkookâs hold on you grow tighter.
âGoodnight, ____.âÂ
The morning after was both the easiest and hardest thing you had to face because it was either you woke up to Jungkook still peacefully sleeping beside you or to an already empty bedside.Â
This time around, Jungkook was already awake and smiling.
Smiling.
You thought it to be so endearing and cruel of him at the same time. Jungkook never watched you sleep before.Â
Chuckling probably because he saw your wide eyes, he asked, âDid you sleep well?â
You shifted before nodding with a small smile. âHow about you?â
âLike a baby.â
You chuckled too as he yawned and stretched. Youâre so beautiful like this.
âWhat do you want for breakfast, ___?â
âDo we still have eggs?â
Jungkook nodded, âand bacon, too.â
âUgh, heaven on earth. Iâll have both, please.â
Jungkook smiled warmly like he was the soft morning light himself, âIâll whip us some pancakes, too.â
You nodded, yawning a second time. You got up to brush your teeth and do the usual morning skincare routine. As you stared at yourself through the mirror, you thought about how you could feel so content living with Jungkook like thisâ peaceful with endless possibilities.Â
You realized your love for Jungkook on a rainy day when both of you were supposed to try and fly the kites you made over Gwangalli beach in Busan. You remember feeling bummed out because Jungkook put so much hard work into making those kites, only to be destroyed by a sudden downpour. Youâd expected Jungkook to be upset as well, but to your surprise, Jungkook pulled you into the pouring rain to dance. He always did that. You thought he was crazy for doing so, but you went along with your fifteen-year-old friendâs absurd idea.Â
It was a good thing you let yourself be pulled into pouring rain by Jeon Jungkook⊠because from then on, your love for him just grew. Blossomed like the spring flowers on a cool afternoon.
You were pulled out from your memories when you heard a phone ring. You quickly finished combing your hair and went out of the room, feeling hopeful about breakfast.
â...hyeong, Iâm not sure if this is a good idea.â
It was Jungkook speaking to someone on the other end of the line. He had his AirPods on as he waited for the bacon to turn crispyâ just the way you liked it. You sat down across from Jungkook on the kitchen counter and he gave you a small smile, even though his eyebrows were furrowed.
âOkay, fine, fine, Iâll go⊠Iâll see you later.â Jungkook tapped the right AirPod twice, ending the call. You could tell something was off.Â
âEverything okay?â
Jungkook didnât answer right away as he transferred the bacon onto a plate with paper towels. âYeah, that was Yoongi hyeongâ
âOh great, are you guys meeting up later?â You tried to make light of the situation, but could already feel the other shoe was about to drop.
Youâve always had that lingering anxiety at the pit of your stomach whenever you were with Jungkook. It co-exists, always present as your love for him. Itâs the product of a love unreciprocated.
Jungkook hummed, too concentrated on the eggs in front of him. âHyeong set me up on a date with someone.â
âOhâŠâ
Jungkook kept his head down as he cooked, but you didnât miss how he looked up briefly at you the moment the small surprise left your lips.
âThatâs great, Jungkook. Isnât it? Itâs about time you tried dating again.âÂ
The morning was already starting to crumble right before you could even get through breakfast.
âYeah, I⊠I think itâd be fun. Iâll see how it goes.â
You have seen Jungkookâs fair share of dating experiences over the course of your friendship. He never brought anyone home to your apartment, but you almost always witnessed how fleeting his dates were. It wasnât as if Jungkook didnât like them, itâs just that he prioritized his work more than the possibility of finding love. The last one Jungkook dated was like a tornado in human form. You remembered how happy he always seemed to be after their dates. Heâd tell you about how she made him want to come out of his shell more and that maybe, just maybe she could be the one. You were happy for his best friend then, you always were. But you were also heartbroken seeing your childhood love date other people, let alone look at them differently. You had only met the girl onceâ and you immediately understood why Jungkook liked her. Kind, charming, and passionate about art and life. An advocate for womenâs rights, a cat lover.Â
Everything that you didnât seem to be.
You donât know how the relationship ended, though. Thatâs the thing about Jungkookâ with you, he was magic and light, wild and full of compassion, but when it came to sharing his feelings, he always had a hard time expressing them. You are as patient as ever though, never pushing Jungkook to emotional places where he didnât want to be.Â
You will always wait for Jungkook. But is it worth it?
âYou should really get out of the house, Jungkook. Go and have fun. Your art will be waiting for you here at home,â you tried to smile as Jungkook handed you your breakfast request.
âYou sound like you really want me out of the house, ____.â Jungkook teased.
You dramatically sighed, threw in a slight roll of your eyes for good measure, âI just want whatâs best for you. You know that.â
âI always know, ____.âÂ
You will always look out for him. Love him from afar. You will always choose your best friend. You could only wish that Jungkook would choose you, too.
You definitely felt like an idiot waiting up for Jungkook.
You liked to tell yourself that Jungkookâs mystery date didnât bother you at all, but being alone in the apartment on your day off didnât help much because you thought about the said date all day long.Â
Hereâs the problem: You didnât know you were so bothered.
Well, you, knew why⊠in a way. But you didnât like admitting it to yourself because it becomes so much clearer. Jungkook has always been a constant in your life, a friend through thick and thin-- but thatâs the issue. Jungkook is a friend.
You heard faint footsteps becoming louder until someone was punching the code to unlock the doorâ Jungkook was home. You quickly glanced at the clock. It was only 9 pm. Heâs home early, isnât he? What does coming home early or late from a date even mean ? You shook your head rapidly, willing the ridiculous questions away when the familiar melody of the door successfully unlocking rang through the room, and in came Jungkook. You repositioned yourself at lightning speed, pretended to watch TV, and only looked up when Jungkook came into view.
âHey. How did your date go?â Your eyes flitted back to the screen in front of you, feigning indifference.
Jungkook plopped next to you on the couch and stretched his legs, âTâwas good.â
Turning your body to face Jungkook you asked, âHow good is good?â
Jungkook chuckled as he intertwined his fingers behind his neck. He didnât pry his eyes away from the TV, which was showing a variety show about refrigerators.
âWe had dinner. Mia was a nice girl, very polite.â
Ah, so the name was Mia. You slowly nodded before tilting your head to the side, revealing a small smirk, âdid you have fun at least?â
âI guess it was alright. You know how awkward blind dates make me feel.â
âWhat makes them awkward again?â
âIâm not sure exactly⊠It's like I just donât know how to act around them, let alone know what to say. Itâsâ Iâm not even sure if she had a good time, to be honest.â
âWell, Iâm sure he had a good time,â you turned your attention back to the TV but muted the volume. Why was there a face towel inside one of the refrigerators?Â
âWhat makes you so sure, ____?â
You shrugged, âYouâre pretty amazing Jungkook. Funny, smart, very attuned to others. I think you just donât see it because, you know, itâs you.â
Jungkook pursed his lips. The momentary silence between you wasnât uncomfortable.
âWhy are you still up, ____?â Jungkook suddenly murmured. He was still facing the TV, but he had his eyes closed.
You suddenly felt a need to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. When you didnât respond, Jungkook opened his eyes and turned to face you. âDo you need help sleeping, ____?â
âI really shouldnât ask for too much, Jungkook. It must be uncomfortable not sleeping in your own bed.â
Jungkook gently flicked a finger at your forehead. You feigned hurt.
âSilly. Come on, letâs get ready for bed. Itâs getting late and you have an early class tomorrow, right?â You didnât even know he remembered your schedule. You let Jungkook pull you by the wrist, leading the way to your bedroom.
Like coming home, you slotted yourself comfortably in between Jungkookâs waiting arms as you both lay in bed. Jungkook rested his chin on top of your head and breathed in your soft, powdery scent. You instantly felt Jungkook relax, all tension starting to ebb away, but maybe it was all just in your head.
âIâm sorry, Jungkook. I just⊠I donât know, I have a long day tomorrow and I need to sleep.â
Jungkook adjusted himself in a way to give you some wiggle room but still held you close. âYou donât have to apologize. I completely understand how pressured you must feel, especially because the dance studio is going through big transitions.â
In your mind, you were thinking of all the ways you and Jungkook just clicked . But thereâs that tiny part of you that feels that maybe this arrangement wasnât the most ideal because for all you knew, Mia might just be a really great girl and Jungkook just needed time to warm up to her. Having Jungkook this close was your dream-- a dream youâve always kept safe in the recesses of your mind. Now that itâs actually happeningâ and that itâs been happening for a while nowâ you crave this closeness more and more and yet, you also feel guilty because you needed to run in the opposite direction. Before things got too painful.
âI can hear you thinking.â
Your body went stiff so Jungkook pulled you much closer as he ran a hand through your hair. He looked at you, eyes soft and half-lidded, your faces too close you felt like something else was going to happen.
But nothing ever happened. Of course.Â
He held your gaze a bit longer and you wanted to tell him the truth. Tell him to look at you just this once. But words failed you once more.
âThank you, Gguk.â
Not a lot of words need to be exchanged. You have been friends for so long that almost all your movements and emotions, no matter how subtle, were easily discernible. You know when Jungkook is having one of his creative blocks because he becomes irritable. Jungkook knows that you can sometimes be too hard on yourself when it comes to dancing, so he cooks your favorite bibimbap as a way to ease his stress. You and Jungkook just know how to comfort one another.
âMy silly darling,â He never called you that before, but you could almost hear Jungkook smile as he uttered it. âI want to be here.â
If your heart suddenly stopped, you hoped Jungkook didnât notice. I want to be here, he said. With a languid smile on your tired face, you succumbed to the pull of sleep, hoping your dreams about Jungkook would never end.
âYou already picked the last movie, ____.â
âFine, we can watch one of yours.â
Jungkookâs bunny smile reappeared and your heart grew ten times its size. After eating dinner, you both decided to watch a movie. After all, it was a Friday night and neither of you had the energy to spend it outside with other people. You watched as Jungkook flicked through the movie choices until he finally settled on a Marvel movie.Â
You were already halfway through the movie when the doorbell rang. You and Jungkook looked at each other, both of you surprised because you werenât expecting anyone at this late hour. As you shrugged your shoulders, Jungkook got up to answer the door.
You decided to pause the movie because you didnât want Jungkook to miss anything, but doing so made it clear that the sudden visitor was actually Yoongi.
The location of the door wasnât too far off from where you were sitting. You didnât mean to eavesdrop either, but you couldnât help but wonder why Jungkook didn't let Yoongi in.
âMia told me about your date. I donât understand, Jungkook, you both said you had a great time, so whatâs the problem?â
Oh, they were talking about Jungkookâs date. At this hour?
âI donât know, hyeong. I guess it never occurred to me to call her so quickly after a first date. Did you come all the way here just to ask that?â Jungkook was a fairly mellow person. Almost never irritable with anyone but himself, just very patient even when you could see how other people were already pushing his buttons.
âI think Mia really likes you, Gguk-ah. You should call her. I also came by to bring you back some of your art supples because you left them at the studio yesterday.â
You heard plastic rustling. Jungkook didnât answer right away, not until his voice lowered, almost sounding like he was pleading.
âLet me think about it, hyeong. Please?â
Yoongi sounded a bit exasperated, âFine. Howâs ____?â
âSheâs fine. We were actually watching a movie,â Jungkook was back to his usual tone of voice, but clipper.Â
âOh, thatâs niceâŠâ
âWould you like to join us? We still have a beer in the fridge, I think.â
âNo, I just⊠I was just about to go home and thought Iâd stop by to give you your things because I already had them in the car, but uhâ yeah. Maybe some other time.â
It didnât register with you right away that Jungkook had Miaâs number. Whether Jungkook asked for it or the other way around, they still exchanged numbers. There was a chance of a second date. You didnât notice the lump forming in your throat as you came to realize again that Jungkook wasnât yours. You had no right to think this way about Jungkook and his love life. He lives his own life, free to date anyone, anytime.Â
You werenât supposed to hear this conversation either. The feeling of impending dread slowly crept up on you. All you knew was that whatever you were feeling right now is something that shouldnât even be happening.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when you saw Jungkook return from the corner of his eye. You suddenly lost all strength to continue the movie. Without even thinking, you pulled yourself up to your feet with the intention of going back to your room. Maybe sleep would do something to dull the ache.
But then you remembered you had a hard time doing that, too.
Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. You held out hope for a minute thereâ hope that maybe Jungkook would tell you he was sorry, but then again, what would he be sorry for? He shouldnât feel sorry for anything, especially not your feelings.Â
The sadness was starting to fester through your bones again. You had to get out of the living room, away from the one person who could make you feel better. Wordlessly, you let your feet take you to the bedroom and quietly shut the door.Â
Jungkook never tried to pry nor force you to explain anything to him. He was always the understanding one, always the one who gave you your space when you needed it, even when you were being cold to him.
Thatâs the thing with Jungkookâ he knew exactly when to be there for you. Except for this time around, not even Jungkookâs presence can heal an unknown emptiness that you donât even recognize yourself.
Nine-year-old you never really liked the first few hours after school because that meant you had to stay and wait until your mom picked you up. School grounds can get pretty lonely, especially when all the other kids have already gone home. Young as you were, you found it funny that both you and your mom ended up closing shop every dayâ you closing school grounds, while your mom closed the register at the grocery store where she worked.Â
What nine-year-old you hated the most was when you had to wait after school while it rained because you couldnât walk around the courtyard and play.Â
You hugged your knees as you rocked yourself back and forth watching the rain splatter on the cold, hard ground. Of all days, you forgot to bring a jacket and you were starting to shiver. It was only four oâclock in the afternoon. Your mom wouldnât arrive until six.Â
Just after you let out a big sigh, a boy came running in your direction carrying an umbrella. Strange. No one but you usually stayed at school this late.Â
When the boy reached the stairs and closed his umbrella, he shook off excess water from his already wet hair, causing a few droplets to splatter all over your face.
âOops, sorry about that.â
The boy gave you his widest smile as he continued to catch his breath from running too fast. You usually saw this boy walk along the school hallways, always surrounded by his friends. You were also clubmates in dance.
âMy nameâs Jungkook. We go to dance club together.â
âI know...â You replied as you rested your chin on top of your knees again.
âYou dance really well, I wish I could be as graceful as you⊠anyway, what are you still doing here?âÂ
âIâm waiting for my mom. She usually picks me up, but she has to finish her job at the store first.â
âOh, okay. How long do you still have to wait for her?â
âProbably a few more hours,â you didnât mean for your tone to be somber, but you couldnât help it.Â
As much as you love your parents, sometimes it can get quite lonely.
âThat might take forever!â Jungkookâs eyes grew wide but you found it amusing. Most people would just say âohâ and move on. Or maybe pity you.
âItâs no big deal, Iâm used to it already.â
âWell, do you want to grab something to eat first?â
While you knew Jungkook meant no harm, you still wondered why he was offering all of a sudden. What was he even doing here?
âI donât thinkââ
âMy driver Mr. Hong-sik is parked right outside near a hotteok stand. Letâs go buy some!â
You hesitated because you werenât supposed to leave the school grounds until an adult came to pick you up but at the same time, you were really hungry.Â
âWhat do you say?â
âDo you promise that we will go back here after buying?â
Jungkook was already nodding, his smile growing wide again upon hearing the possibility of you giving in to the idea of hot hotteok.Â
âYes, of course. Mr. Hong-sik will take care of us, donât worry. Besidesââ Jungkook opened his umbrella, droplets of rain splattered across your face again, ââthis umbrella is big enough to fit us both.â
âOkay, letâs go.â
It would only be years later when Jungkook admitted to you that he had known for a while how you spent your days alone after school and that he wanted to keep you company.Â
When you were seventeen and Jungkook fifteen, the school dance team won an award. You both celebrated by eating ramen and ice cream at your motherâs grocery store.Â
When you and Jungkook went to college, you decided to share a room together because you both got into SNU. Over the years mishaps had happened, you both cringed at each otherâs disaster dates, and cried when you had your hearts broken by careless people. Through the highs and lows of life and love, you and Jungkook were a team.Â
Now that you are twenty-six and Jungkook twenty-four, you continue to conquer the world together.
Except that you never expected to slowly fall for the boy who accidentally splattered water on your face twice and shared his umbrella. Â
âYahâ stop eating all of the danmuji!â Taehyung playfully snapped as he chewed on his jajangmyeon.Â
âI already told you to order extra, but of course, you didnât listen again,â you replied, happily chewing on the kimchi.
âI totally forgot, okay? Let me breathe,â Taehyung pouted. âItâs not every day when little kids come into the studio and wreak havoc during hip hop class.â You chuckled at your best friendâs whining and placed a piece of danmuji on top of his noodles. Taehyung looked to you and mumbled his thanks.
You were sitting with your legs sprawled out on the dance floor of the dance studio. Both of you just finished your separate intensive classes and were fueling up for the next set this afternoon.
âI heard Jungkook went out on a date,â Taehyung isnât really one for dilly-dallying. Always straight to the point.Â
âYoongi told you, huh?â
âOf course. The man could never hide secrets from me. Not in our household.â
âYeah, youâre right. Jungkook did go on a date,â you didnât like where the conversation was going, but you couldnât bring yourself to stop Taehyung from asking further either. A part of you wanted to talk about it with someone.Â
âAnd how do you feel about that?â Taehyung shoved a piece of kimchi onto his mouth and waited for your answer.
You started to re-arrange the toppings on your plate, trying to avoid eye contact all of a sudden, âwhat do you mean?â
âI know you, ____. You canât hide from me.â
You chuckled at your best friendâs blunt nature. Itâs one of the things you liked most about him because you were the oppositeâ always caring, understanding, nice. You put others first before yourself because thatâs who you areâ the reliable friend. You know Taehyung means well and is just looking out for you, too.
âDo I have to answer your question?â
âYou donât have to, but I can tell itâs bothering you. You didnât even notice that I took the last piece of chicken just nowââ
âYAH!â
Taehyung snickered, âBut seriously, youâre quiet than usual. Does he still help you sleep?â
âHe does.â
âAnd he hasnât said anything beyond that?â
âWhat is he supposed to say?â
Taehyung shrugged, âYou tell me.â
âWeâre friends, Taehyung. Thereâs nothing else to sayâ You let your shoulders sag. Youâre surprised at yourself that youâve been holding the tension in.Â
âAfter everythingââ Taehyung paused and bit his bottom lip, trying to carefully choose what to say next, âDid it ever occur to you that maybe the reason why he volunteers to help you sleep is that he likes you too?â
âStop putting ideas into my head.â
âIâm not, but I do want to point out what you canât see, ____. Iâm your best friendâ Jungkook is, too, but with us itâs different. I donât feel the urge to jump you every so often, ah!---â Taehyung earned a playful smack from you, âLook, all Iâm saying is⊠you and Jungkook have been friends for a really long time so why donât you just talk to him?â
You started to argue, âItâs not that easy. It might ruin our friendship.â
âBut how else are you going to get past this?â
âTake my feelings to the grave,â you expressed glumly.
âSo dramatic. And very, very difficult for you to bear all on your own.â
âIâm scared, Taehyung. What if things become awkward?â
âWill Jungkook really let it come to that? Heâs your best friend. If he says he doesnât feel the same way, the more important thing here is you. You and your heartâ because at least in knowing, you can finally move forward. Date other people without the what ifs.â
You seemed to mull over Taehyungâs words.Â
âIâm not forcing you to ask him. At the end of the day, you get to decide. I just want you to be happy, ____. Always.â
âI know, Taehyung-ie. Thank you.â
You came home that night to Jungkook passed out from exhaustion on their couch. He still had his eyeglasses on, his apple pencil caught in between his fingers. His iPad was on top of the coffee table and you assumed that Jungkook rushed yet again another commission for a client. It was still earlyâ 8 oâ clock. You wondered if Jungkook had already eaten. You draped a blanket over him and adjusted his head on one of the pillows into a more comfortable position. The movement slightly jostled Jungkook awake. With half-lidded eyes, he gave you a sleepy smile.
âHi ____, youâre home.â
âHmm, I am.â
âHow was class today?â
âExcellent. Did you get to finish that commission?â
Jungkook yawned, âBarely... â
You reluctantly caressed Jungkook hair, fingers gently rubbing his scalp. As soon as you did, his eyes fell closed.Â
âHave you eaten, Gguk-ah?â
âNot yet. I was waiting for you.â
âYou didnât have to. What if I came home really late? You canât miss your meals.â
âYouâre here now, arenât you?â
You chuckled as he mumbled, âBrat. Iâll whip us up some kimchi kimbap and ramen. How does that sound?â
âIâd love that, thank you.â
âYou can sleep more. Iâll wake you up when dinnerâs ready.â
âI can help youââ
âStay put. Iâll be quick, okay?â
Jungkook nodded as he watched you disappear into the kitchen. You prepared all the supplies needed to make dinner and as soon as you started chopping the kimchi for the kimbap, you heard Jungkookâs soft snores.Â
Suddenly, all of your fears ebbed away. Emotions were a funny thingâ the fondness you had for Jungkook overtook your whole being everytime you looked at him. Sometimes you want to feel angry at how Jungkook seemed oblivious, but then again⊠he isnât really a mind-reader. You have always been affectionate with each other and you wondered where people drew the line between friendship and love. What happens when one catches feelings? What happens to both of you if a confession was the way to settle things once and for all? The stakes were too highâ confessing your feelings for Jungkook might make him pull away. What happens to the friendship built over the years? If you were lucky, maybe Jungkook might love you, too.
You were in a bind and you didnât like that.
Jungkook slept on the living room couch, tired from the dayâs work. You both make meals for each other. You sleep together on the same bed. Shouldnât life with Jungkook be this easy?Â
And obvious?
After twenty minutes, dinner was ready. You woke Jungkook up and he devoured the simple dinner over stories of your classes and his ideas for the clientâs project.Â
This friendship is simple. Light. It is a life well lived between two childhood friends that began with a shared an umbrella and hotteok. You wished it was always this uncomplicated.Â
Jungkook helped you sleep again that night. Not a lot of words were shared because you were honestly exhausted and just when you thought you didnât need cuddles, Jungkook went into your room and laid on your bed, not uttering a single word. He only wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your cotton scent.Â
âYouâre always helping me, Jungkook.â
âIs it working? Are you sleeping well?â
âI am, thanks to you.â
âIâm glad. Iâm really glad, ____.â
All is right in this world, all is well with us this way, you thought before you gave in to the pull of sleep for another night.Â
You woke up to the sunlight and an empty bed. Muffled sounds could be heard from outside the bedroom.
âMiaâs kind of annoyed that she gave you his number but you still havenât called herâ
âI know.â
âIs this about ____? Is that why you havenâtââ
âI donât know, hyeong, itâs too early to have this conversation.â
Yoongi came into view as soon as you reached the kitchen. His back was turned to you and it seemed like he was cooking pancakes. Jungkook was sitting on the stool by the counter and had his back to you.Â
âOh, good morning, ____,â Yoongi chimed.
âGood morning.â
Jungkook poured you a glass of orange juice, âSlept well?â
You didnât have your words yet so you just nodded. Even with Yoongi busy with the stove, you felt the tension that made itself known so suddenly around the kitchen.
And for some reason, Jungkook decided to throw out the trash, leaving you and Yoongi alone for a while.
âHow are you, ____â Yoongi asked as he gave you a serving of pancakes, egg, and bacon. The last thing you expected was to wake up to breakfast prepared by a visitor sprinkled with passive confrontation.
You sipped his orange juice again before replying, âIâm doing well. Dance classes are picking up.â
âIâm glad⊠and Jungkook?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âHow is Jungkook⊠and you?â
It was way too early for this conversation.
âI need you to be a bit more specific about what you really want to ask me, Yoongi.â
Yoongi was met with an almost deafening silence. You knew that apart from him, Jungkook confided in Yoongi the most. He knew most of Jungkookâs dating escapades and with that, his heart aches too. Yoongi is Jungkookâs fiercest protector, you are well-aware. You understand how he tends to be confrontational especially when it came to Jungkookâs feelings.Â
Because they go way back.
In all honesty, you were terrified of Yoongi knowing about how Jungkook had been helping you sleep, but you didnât know why you were scared. Yoongi is your friend too, after all.Â
Maybe because you wanted to keep such intimate moments with Jungkook for yourself. Something that was yours, and yours alone. Unfortunately, you had a gut feeling Yoongi knows a lot more than heâs letting on.
âJungkook just started dating again, ____.â
âIâm all too aware. I donât think Iâm going to be a problem.â
âIt might be if Jungkook helps you sleep every night.â
And there it is.
âWeâre just friends, Yoongi. Iâm not expecting anything from him.â You felt your heart sink to your feet, trampled on. Yoongi knew.Â
But why was frustration rising up in the back of your throat?
âAre you sure youâre not expecting anything?â
âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
Tension, tension, tension. You hated it.
âYou had your chance once, ____, and you walked away. Itâs not fair for you to do this to Jungkook again.â
And there it is. The word again .
You swallowed the lump in your throat, lightly tapping the glass of juice with your fingers, willing for the tears to retreat back to where they came from. You cannot afford to cry in front of Yoongi. Or Jungkook. It was too goddamn early.
You did not sign up to have your memories, your insecurities, and your reality laid bare on the kitchen counter.Â
âIt doesnât matter how I feel. Jungkook is my friend. He always will be.â
Vulnerability wasnât your strongest suit. You weren't your emotionsâ best soldier, either. You wanted to yell at Yoongi, shout at him for even implying that you were getting in the way of Jungkook and his dating life.
âJungkook cannot date freely if he always has to think about coming home to help you sleep,â Yoongiâs words cut like a knife, making you wince. âYou know he deserves better than that. You deserve better than that.â
You have very blunt and straightforward friends, and although they keep you grounded, sometimes you hate how they can casually talk to you about your feelings. Sometimes you think they forget that your sunny disposition can also be sometimes moored by rain and storms.Â
âIâm sorry, ____. That was too much, Iââ
âNo, Yoongi, itâs okay,â tears have already fallen and you hastily wiped them away, âYouâre right, it was my fault. Iâm the one who got us into this mess. Iâm the one who has the sleeping problem, Iâllâ Iâll figure something out, maybe get checked or somethingâŠâ You kept your eyes glued to the untouched food in front of you. Throat burning, fresh tears threatening to fall once more.
Yoongiâs words stungâ but heâs also right. The pain of the unspoken truth you try so hard to push down every day come rising to the surface and you are powerless to stop it.Â
Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it the moment he looked over your shoulder. Your stomach churned because your worst fears werenât done with you yetâ Jungkook was standing by the door.
âI think itâs time for you to leave, Yoongi hyeong.â The only time you heard apparent hostility in Jungkookâs voice was years ago when someone attempted to jump you at a party. Jungkook is always kind, but when irritation, let alone animosity, takes over, he becomes a completely different person.Â
All you knew was that Jungkook and his girlfriend in tornado form are over.
The music blaring from the speakers were too loud, everyone was all over the placeâ Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung. It was Jungkookâs idea to get wasted at a club. You didnât always agree with Jungkookâs coping mechanisms, because you knew he was a terrible drinkerâ someone who couldnât hold his liquor well.Â
But he was heartbroken and what do good friends do? Let them cry and wallow.
But right now, it was time to go home. You called a cab for Yoongi and Taehyung, while you and Jungkook got into another. It was a good decision that you didnât bring your own car. You wouldnât have any other choice but to drag Jungkookâs drunk ass to the passenger seat and you werenât sure you could manage that.
You were thankful that Jungkook could still manage to walk, even if he needed to be physically supported by you. You both fumbled for a bit as you closed your apartment door behind you.
âAlright, you big baby, take off your shoes.â
Jungkook did as he was told, but you could tell his body was about to give up on him so you hastily walked him to the bedroom.
You heaved a big sigh after Jungkook collapsed into the mattress. You could hear Jungkookâs breathing slowly steady itself and you honestly thought he was asleep.
âAre you dead?â
When Jungkook didnât move, a playful smirk painted your lips and you shook your head. You leaned in closer to fluff Jungkookâs pillow, when his head suddenly turned to face you.Â
With eyes half-lidded, you thought Jungkook looked beautiful underneath the sliver of moonlight shining through the bedroom window. He reeked of alcohol and smoke, but you didnât mind. You couldnât help but hold his gaze.
Hesitant fingers reached up to trace the skin on your cheek. Jungkook blinked once as he ran gently ran his fingers from the corner of your eye to your chin.
Jungkookâs voice was so soft, you almost didn't hear him ask, âWhy donât you like me, ____?â
âWhat are you talking about, of course I like you.â
Jungkook shook his head, âThatâs not what I meantâŠâ
Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. You reminded yourself that Jungkook was intoxicated. He wouldnât remember this tomorrow. He might not even know what he is doing or saying right now.
âWhy canât you love me, ____?â Jungkook swallowed the lump forming in his throat, âbecause I have loved you for so long and you wonât even look at me.â
You wanted to cry, but you didnât exactly know why, âThatâs not true, Jungkook.â
âThen prove it, ____.â
âI donât know how.â
Jungkook, in a way, helped you. With eyes focused on your lips, he slowly lifted his head to graze your mouth with his own. When he finally kissed you, your head was spinning that you had to use your arm for support to keep you up.
Jungkook mustered up all of his remaining strength to sit up on the bed to kiss you properly. He cupped your face with his hand and you did the same. Under the same moonlight, you and Jungkook started to take that one step closer to finally acknowledging what has been there all along.
But in your head, you didnât know what you want.
Lips separated, letting the both of you breathe. Jungkook touched his forehead against yours before his lips planted a light, lingering kiss there.
Your heart sank even deeper and you fought the tears that were about to come.
Because even though you really loved Jungkook, you and he were at the right place at the wrong time.
The next morning, you and Jungkook werenât the type to dance around each other. He did remember what happened last night.
âI need to know, ____. I need to know what you want.â
âIâm sorry, Jungkook.â
Jungkook nodded, but you didnât miss the flash of sadness that passed through his once hopeful eyes.Â
âAre we still friends at least?â
It took all of you to nod your head in agreement. It was better this way.
âOf course we are.â
âThen thatâs all I want, ____.â
Just as Yoongi closed the door behind him and it was just you and Jungkook in the now tense atmosphere of the apartment, confusion flooded you. Dread soon followed upon realizing what had just happened.Â
You were holding Jungkook back and itâs all your fault. All because you still couldnât decide what you really want.Â
When Jungkook finally locked eyes with you, his gentle gaze made your heart flutter. You donât deserve it, you thought. But you were allured by it-- so easy to get lost in the sea of Jungkookâs beautiful, observant brown eyes, like they were meant to see right through you, heart and soul. Your face slowly morphed into a pain Jungkook didnât recognize, a sadness he hasnât seen before. Your bottom lip began to quiver and before you knew it, you full-on sobbed into your hands. Just as quickly as the collapse of everything began, Jungkook was swift on his feet, taking you into his arms.Â
Jungkook embraces you tightly, his breathing controlled in an effort to curb your sobs. You could hear Jungkookâs heartbeat and it was an odd source of comfort despite the distress you were actively feeling. You felt Jungkookâs large hand stroke your hair in slow motion, chin resting on top of your head as if trying to silently tell you donât cry.
Being with Jungkook felt like drowning and coming up for air all at the same timeâ your constant, but also your poison. Yoongi was right, Jungkook deserves to be happy after you blew your chance to tell him how you really felt.Â
You loved Jungkook, but you had to let him go because he doesnât deserve to be with someone who cannot make up her mind. When you said no to him a year ago, you thought it was the best for the both of youâ Jungkook was hurting and he kissed you because he was drunk and in pain. Not because he loves you. You thought that maybe after some time had passed, what happened that night would just be a distant memory between two friends who had a momentary lapse of judgment.
You have to let him go because itâs the right thing to do, the only way to save the friendship you built over the years. You once saved it, you cannot mess up again. It was selfish, yet so selfless.
When you finally calmed down a little bit more and your breathing slowed, Jungkook loosened his grip. You immediately felt the distance once more, but it was as if Jungkook heard your thoughts because he only pulled away to wipe your tears with his thumbs. Jungkookâs hands cupped your face for a while longer, staring into your teary eyes. Jungkook mumbled an apology as he pressed his forehead with yours. As he closed his eyes, you received a glimpse of Jungkookâs sadness without words.Â
Loving Jungkook isnât supposed to be painful.
Jungkook had to meet a new client so that meant he needed to leave the apartment. You could tell it was difficult for him to leave you all alone in the apartment, but Jungkook only asked if you were going to be okay.
You struggled to leave home that day, but you had to because if you didnât get out and teach dance, you would continue to drown in your own suffering. You both left the apartment with nothing but your unspoken words and broken hearts.
Jungkook would find himself running late for his meeting and he arrived home to what he thought was a dark, empty apartment. Trodding down the hall to your room, he was mildly surprised to see the door was slightly ajar. Lying on the bed was you. Sleeping.
Jungkook quietly entered the room and knelt down by the side of the bed. Staring at you, with the moonlight shining down on your face, you looked sereneâ a stark contrast to the chaos that transpired earlier that day. Your lips were slightly parted and Jungkook found himself smiling at the sight. He gently ran his knuckles down your cheek. He did that for a while, just intentionally watching and helping you sleep even more peacefully in the gentlest way. Jungkook was thankful that you didnât seem to be aware that you weren't alone.Â
You kept your eyes closed as you reveled in the softness of Jungkookâs touch. You initially thought you were dreaming of Jungkook kneeling beside you because after all, the sleep gummies seemed to knock you out enough to fall asleep without him this time. But you realized it wasnât a dream.
Jungkook came home.
The ache in your heart returned, but at the same time, you wished this moment of Jungkook comforting you never ended. Because at least you could have Jungkook like this.
âWill you stay still, ____? Iâm not done yet.âÂ
You pouted as you watched Jungkook draw a bowl of ramen on your leg cast. You injured yourself while attempting to do a tourner for an after-school ballet class. You and Jungkook were now in university and renting an apartment together. Your leg rested on Jungkookâs lap while you both sat on the living room couch. Jungkook slightly had his tongue out while he colored in the ribbons and you scoffed.
âAre you done now?â
âYou donât rush art.â
âYeah but Iâm hungry and I think my leg is asleep.â
Jungkook smirked, âYour leg being in a cast doesnât really have a choice given the circumstances, what did you expect?â You smacked him with a pillow, âYou asshole, give me my leg back.â
âOw! Nuh uh. Iâm almost done.â
You huffed, feigning annoyance. But you were actually endeared with Jungkookâs enthusiasm to draw a different object on your leg cast every week. The moment you got out of the hospital and after Jungkook fed you some jjampong, he carried you to the same living room couch and drew the yellow umbrella he used the day you bought hotteok. The following week, it was a sketch of a person dancing ballet which Jungkook referred to as, âthe loveliest ballet dancer in the universe.â This week, it was ballet shoes hanging on one side of the backrest of a chair.
âThere, done!â Jungkook slightly pulled away to admire his work then he turned and gave you his dorkiest smile. You could never ask for more.
Weeks passed as you and Jungkook fell into usual routine. You can no longer recall since when you started having a hard time communicating feelings. It wasnât like you and Jungkook fought a lot because you almost never do. But thereâs always that elephant in the room that neither of you choose to address even though itâs already staring back at you both.
On Jungkookâs birthday, Taehyung decided it would be good for you all to spend your time at a club after having dinner. From the get-go, the people in attendance were the birthday boy, Taehyung, Yoongi, you, and Mia.
Needless to say, you were awkward and in pain the entire time.
It was your first time to actually see Jungkook pay attention to someone else in a romantic way. Although he and Mia have yet to put a label on anything, they continued to date, much to your misery.
At the birthday dinner, you tried your best not to look at Jungkook and Mia the whole time, but by some strange magnetic force, everytime you unconsciously looked at Jungkook, his eyes found you.
Come to think of it, Mia was the clingy one the whole night. But maybe you were just misinterpreting things. When Taehyung suggested they go to a club, you internally groaned. Not only was this a repeat performance of what you did wrong a year ago, but it was also like salt being rubbed on a wound that never completely healed well.Â
âFuck it, letâs get wasted,â you thought. You werenât about to let your misery ruin a fun night.
So much for that, though. You couldnât even pay attention to your drink because Mia was already trying to get too close to Jungkook. The whole time, Jungkookâs expressions were unreadable. One of his many stupid traits, you sarcastically thought.Â
You don't know exactly what happened afterâ Jungkook went to the bar to order more drinks for the table, followed not too long by Mia. She was relentless in flirting with Jungkook who seemed stoic and indifferent and awkward. Mia must have been really bad at reading people. Still, she didnât give up that easily because she dragged Jungkook to the middle of the dance floor and tried to get him to dance.Â
Maybe you just wanted to see what you wanted to, but if you really were in the right frame of mind, you swore you saw Jungkook finally give in and dance with her.Â
Jungkook was having fun with someone else on his birthday. This is what he deservesâ to be happy and free. Jungkook doesnât have to sacrifice his time just to help you sleep every night.Â
You felt like you were about to throw up. The room started spinning and suddenly all you could hear were muffled sounds of the music bass. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the exit. You needed to get out. You faintly heard Taehyung calling out to you, asking what was wrong but the tightness in your chest demanded much of your attention.Â
When you reached the exit, you pushed the door all the way with all your might and started to walk. You were relieved for once that you werenât able to drink a drop because you needed a clear head to get home safely. The club was a short distance from the apartment and all you wanted to do was lie in bed and cry yourself to sleep.Â
It has been weeks. Weeks of skirting around Jungkook, acting like nothing was amiss. It worked for a while, but you knew it would backfire eventually.
You didnât think this plan of ignoring feelings would fail you so soon. You thought you were stronger.
Your hands were shaking so badly that you struggled to enter the correct passcode to the door:Â 090197.
You cursed at the irony.Â
Not bothering to turn on the lights, you stumbled in the dark and took off your heels. You went straight to your room and collapsed on the bed. You let the tears stain his pillow. This isnât new to you nowâ crying. It somehow helped you sleep, anyway. Right now, you don't care if you cried your eyes raw. You were hurt, in pain, and you didnât know what to do.
Nights felt like an eternity for an insomniac like you. Your thoughts were your biggest enemy in the dead of night and most of the time you are powerless to control them. You shouldnât have allowed Jungkook to help you in the first place. Otherwise, you wouldnât find yourself in this predicament. Youâve already kept your distance before, why did you fail again now? You shouldâve known your place, the order in this world. You were Jungkookâs best friend, and you decided that for the both of you that day you told him you were sorry.
Ruminating thoughts can be a bitch because it makes you oblivious to your surroundings in real time.
You suddenly felt the other side of the bed dip. You heard sheets rustle and felt a different kind of warmth-- the kind that only your best friend could give.
Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your scent. In the silence of your room, Jungkook, once again, came home to you.
Both of you didnât speak for a long while, just listening to each otherâs rhythm. You felt your bottom lip quiverâ you were on the verge of crying again and as you started to sit up and perhaps leave, you felt Jungkook tighten his grip as he clasped his fingers together, securing you in place.
âPlease donât cry.â
You swallowed and tried to reply, but your voice cracked instead, âWhy are you here, Jungkook?â
âI want to stay here with you.â
âItâs your birthday.â
âYes, it is.â
âThen why?â
âLike I said, I want to stay here with you.â
Like wildfire, your heart swelled even when your brain told you not to fall for Jungkookâs words. That you were only reading too much into things, âWhat aboutââ
âI told them I wanted to go home because you already did. I turned around to look for you because I heard the barista said there were french fries, but you werenât at the table anymore.â
Tears started to stream down your face and you were grateful you weren't facing Jungkook.Â
âI hate being the reason why you always cry, ____. I have done absolutely nothing to make things better for you and I keep making you feel sad.â Jungkookâs voice was laced with tight emotion and it was something you were hearing for the first time. Jungkook buried himself deeper in the crook of your neck.
âIt hurts so much, Jungkook.â
Lifting his head, Jungkook moved in closer to whisper in your ear, âI know. I know. Iâm so sorry.âÂ
You breathed a deep sigh as you willed away the tears. Right on cue, Jungkook gently turned your body to face him. âThatâs better,â Jungkook gently smiled, pushing strands of hair away from your face.
With Jungkookâs right arm under your head and his left engulfing you in an embrace, you curled into Jungkookâs chest. No matter what pain you may be feeling, it all dissipates once youâre with Jungkook.Â
âI am so sorry, ____. Iâm sorry I keep running away.â
You let a small smile take over his lips, âNo, Jungkook. You donât have to apologize. All of this is my faultâ
âItâs not⊠itâs not your fault. Itâs mine,â you saw Jungkook swallow. You looked over Jungkookâs shoulder, at the clock situated on top of the side table. Thirty minutes left until Jungkook's birthday ends.
âItâs still your birthday. You shouldnât be spending it apologizing for something you didnât do.â
âI am enjoying my birthday because I havenât lost you yet. And it is my fault, stop fighting me.â Jungkook smiled. âHave I ever told you how beautiful you are? Especially under moonlit skies.â
âI donât think so. Not yet.â
âThen allow me to tell you now. Youâre beautiful. The most beautiful person inside out and I am so lucky to have you. Thank you for not leaving me.â
You scooted closer to Jungkook, trying to fill in all the spaces in between.Â
It was almost a whisper and you almost didnât hear it, âSleep well my silly, beautiful darling,â your eyes flutter close as you felt Jungkook give you a kiss on your templeâ a reassuring one, this time.Â
âHey.â
You jumped at the sound of Jungkookâs unusually low voice. âShit,â you mumbled, earning a pretty smile from Jungkook. âHow long have you been standing there?â
The smile didnât leave Jungkookâs face as he apologized and said with all honesty, âA while.â
You have been spending more late nights in the studio since you and Taehyung started offering additional classes. You held a beginnerâs ballet class for children after school hours and you felt you had to spend more time thinking about their routines. Kids need structure, lest their attention becomes too difficult to get a hold of. Jungkook, being the sweetest, always stayed up to wait for you to get home and eat dinner together.Â
This time around, Jungkook decided to pick you up from the studio.
You took in the sight of Jungkook who was leaning against the door frame, wearing a cream oversized sweater and white pants. Even in the dimly lit room, Jungkookâs handsome face was radiant.
Seeing him feels like coming home.
Jungkook walked up to you with his hands in his pockets, âI always get caught up in your world whenever I watch you dance. That hasnât changed.â He was suddenly standing so close to you that you had to clear his throat. Yet you didnât pull away, either.
âTime passes when that world is not working in my favor,â you said as you rolled your shoulders backward.
âIs this the ballet class for the kids?âÂ
You hummed in response, âOne would think itâs easy enough to make a routine for little kids when really, going back to basics sometimes is the hardest thing.â
âWhat did you use to tell me?â Jungkook asked warmly, all innocence and love, but you recognized that tone of his.Â
âJungkookââ
âHelp me remember, ____. How did we do it back then? When we couldnât figure out a new routine,â you heard the heels of Jungkookâs white chelsea boots clatter against the wooden floor as he stepped away a bit from you.
You were taken back to your days in the dance club with Jungkook, the two of you in a smaller studio after school practicing for competitions. You and Jungkook were the groupâs best dancers and that also meant you were almost always tasked to come up with new choreography. You recalled how you and Jungkook used to practice no matter how long it took.Â
Right now, at this very moment, as Jungkook gently urges you to remind you of those days, you appreciated what he was trying to do.
âIâd always tell you, âIâm tired, I donât want to do this anymore,ââ
âHm, and how did I respond?â Jungkookâs eyes never left your face and his voice was so low, that it sent shivers up your spine.
âYouâd tell me we didnât have to do the things other people ask us to dance⊠not right now.â you breathed as Jungkookâs face inched closer to yours, so close that you could already hear Jungkookâs heartbeat.Â
âAnd then?â
âWeâd dance. For ourselves, together.âÂ
Just as the words escaped your lips, Jungkook slightly pulled away to take his phone out of his pocket, scroll through a playlist, the very same playlist Jungkook uses whenever you both lounge around on a Sunday morning. He found the song he was looking for and pressed play. Â
Jungkook put his phone back in his pocket and whispered, âWe dance. For ourselves, together.â He wrapped an arm around your waist while his other hand trailed down to hold your own, intertwining both sets of fingers. Falling, you easily melted into Jungkook, your worries about the ballet routines already forgotten.
With bodies pressed close, you felt your heart plummet to a deep dive into your stomach, leaving butterflies as it burst into a million pretty pieces. Jungkook was never one for sweet words, always choosing to convey his thoughts and feelings through his art. He had given you plenty of his work over the years, drawn on crumpled tissue papers or on the back of receipts. Always in all honesty quietly telling you he was there for you no matter what.
And through dance, he was the sameâ loving, thoughtful, yours.Â
âIt has been a while since you last danced, right?â
Jungkook leans his forehead into yours, his eyes focused on the floor. He hums his response as he starts to lead the dance.
âIt has been a while since I last danced with you,â Jungkook whispered. âDance with me so I remember, my love.â
You close your eyes, resting your chin on Jungkookâs shoulder, âRemember what, Jungkook?â
âHelp me remember everything good about you and me.âÂ
And although Jungkook couldnât see it, you smile as you tilt your head to the side. You let Jungkook lead the both of you to the melody of the music for a good few minutes until you fell into a slow, swaying rhythm.Â
âI missed dancing with you like this,â you swore you felt Jungkook tighten his hold around your middle a little bit more. Jungkook dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder and said with all reverence, âI miss you, ____.â
He misses you, not missed. You never wanted to let him go.Â
You didnât want to stop touching Jungkook so as you continued to allow your feet to be led by him, you ran a trail using your hand from Jungkookâs shoulders, landing on his chest. Jungkook ran his own hand at the expanse of your back, waiting, waiting.Â
âAnd I miss you too,â you said with a smile. Jungkook cupped your face and ran a thumb to your cheekbone. Never leaving your eyes, he responded, âItâs always a pleasure to dance with you, ____.â
âI always seem more eager to dance when Iâm with you,â you said.Â
And I always love dancing with you.
âThatâs because we know each otherâs moves well. Weâre in sync no matter how long itâs been.â
Tentatively, you respond, âMaybe we should do it again⊠more often, this time.â
âI wouldnât mind that at all. Iâll dance with you forever.âÂ
You and Jungkook went home that night and slept once more in each otherâs arms. You noticed a change this time. You felt peaceful, more hopeful. Jungkook didnât say anything definitive, still, but maybe his heart did.Â
And you fell into a quiet sleep as soon as Jungkook kissed your temple. This time, his kiss was more intentional, more heartfelt, like he never wants to let you go.
Not again.Â
You woke up the next morning still reeling from the dance you shared with Jungkook. Always the romantic, you thought as you shook your head. Usually, Jungkook was already up and about before you even opened one eye, but life continues to surprise you.Â
Jungkook was sitting on the bed, drawing on his iPad. You couldnât believe it at firstâ you rubbed sleep out of your eyes and looked at your own phone for the time. It was 8 oâclock and Jungkook was drawing.
The minute you moved, Jungkook was attentive. He stopped drawing as he turned to you to mumble a good morning.Â
âGood morning to you, too. What are you doing so early in the morning?â
âOh, I woke up earlierââ
Cutting him off, you teased, âYou always do.âÂ
Jungkook chuckled, the crinkles in around his eyes so evident, so endearing, âYeah. Um⊠I justâ the morning light through the window was just so beautiful and I had to draw it.â
âYou drew a sunrise at 8 oâclock?â
You rolled your eyes as Jungkook said matter-of-factly, âActually, 6 oâclock⊠but no, I didnât draw the sunrise, not exactly.â
âThen what did you draw?â
Instead of responding, Jungkook gave you his iPad. You realized Jungkook drew you. Jungkook used digital watercolor brushes to paint a picture of you sleeping with your bedroom window behind you. Sunlight accentuated the side of your face, expression tranquil.Â
âItâs not finished yet, I need to fill in some of theââ
âItâs beautiful, Jungkook.â
âYou always say that, ____.â
âBecause your works are beautiful. Every single one of them,â you couldnât stop admiring Jungkookâs work. You felt your throat constrict once more, emotions starting to take over. This isnât the first time Jungkook drew you, but itâs definitely the first time you felt something different after seeing his artâ a love that continues to blossom, a love for Jungkook that never withered. For the past few weeks, you felt like you were slowly coming to terms with you and him being just best friends, but after last night, you were starting to backslide.Â
You will always love Jungkook no matter whatâ you know that now. Maybe not in the way you want, but Jungkook will continue to have a special hold on your heart that no one else can replace.Â
âThank you for this, Gguk-ah. Can we print and frame this? When youâre done, that is.â
âOf course, ____. Iâm glad you like it.â
One of the things you and Jungkook appreciate about the apartment is the silence because itâs never an awkward one. In silence, youâre both comfortableâ awkward and pain and everything else in between. In the shared space, you and Jungkook are free to love one another.
In silence, you also hear each otherâs hunger. You giggled as Jungkook turned beet red. After all these years of living together, Jungkook still tended to be embarrassed around you. One of the many adorable Jeon Jungkook traits that you love.
âThatâs my cue to make breakfast.â
You stood up and ran a hand through your hair before pocketing your phone. Jungkook didnât move an inch. You didnât think much of it, but just as you were about to walk out the door, Jungkook called out to you and scrambled to his feet.Â
Mornings with Jungkook more often than not are calm, but when you saw Jungkook walk up the short distance to where you were standing, his gaze so strong, your heart began to race. Because you were standing too close to each other, you felt Jungkook take a deep breath before uttering the words you never thought youâd hear from him.
âDonât leave me.â
At first, you thought you heard wrong. A few seconds later your brain told you that maybe it was Jungkookâs way of saying that he wanted you both to stay in bed a little while longer because after all, it was a Sunday.
But then a third thought came to you, the most dreaded oneâ what if?
âS-say that again.â
It was physically impossible for Jungkook to get even closer to you. The wide smile drawn on his face made all the difference.
âDonât leave me.â
Like a bucket of cold water doused on you, you couldnât believe what Jungkook was really trying to tell you. Your childhood best friend, the man of your dreams. The one person who will move mountains for you without being asked is trying to tell you something you longed to hear.
âSay that again⊠o-one more time.â
Tears threatened to flow from your sparkling eyes and Jungkook was quick to hold you small face in his hands, â____. Please⊠donât ever leave me.â
You struggled not to cry so much upon finally understanding what Jungkook was really trying to say. You wanted to respond to Jungkookâs plea, but all that came out was a sob. Jungkook peppered your face with soft kisses down to your jaw. You found yourself holding on to Jungkook, grip like a vice. You don't want to let him go. You will never.Â
Not again.
You tried your best to properly respond this time, âDonât worry, Gguk. I will never, ever leave you.â You ran your knuckles down Jungkookâs face, âI was just going to make us breakfast because youâre hungry.â
Jungkook laughed at how you could still manage to make an intimate moment so endearing. He held your wrist and kissed the palm of your hand before leaning in to finally kiss you full on your lips. His kiss was tentative at first until he decided to be bolder, silently asking you to let him in. You readily gave Jungkook access to kiss you even deeper. Like wildfire, heat spreads throughout your bodyâ this is what it feels like to kiss Jungkook without reservation. This is what it feels like to kiss your best friend, no holds barred.
Overwhelmed with affection, you felt yourself being lifted by Jungkook and your legs automatically cling to his waist. The position gave him an even better angle to kiss the person he has longed for almost all his life, âHow long, Jungkook? How long have you really liked me?â
You didnât think Jungkook would immediately understand what you were trying to ask, âSince that day I asked you to dance with me under the rain.â
Jungkook saw the look of recognition in your eyes. He knew you knew what he was referring to. âI have always been in love with you, ____. I just⊠I was so scared of you rejecting me that I thought it was best if I kept my feelings to myself. I tried dating other people because I thought maybe that would help me get to know others better.â
And as if Jungkook could read your mind, he kissed your forehead before talking again.
âI donât regret kissing you that night⊠I was drunk, but I was sober enough to know and remember what I said. We broke up because she told me I was always distracted. I always thought of you everywhere we went. She told me I never really moved on⊠that I still call out your name even when I was with someone else. When you told me no then, I knew it was my fault for not thinking things through. It was my mistake that I didnât communicate with you better, ____. Iâm sorry.â
You didnât have a lot of words to respond with, not after that speech from Jungkook so you only asked ever so meekly, âAnd Mia?â
âI told her we were better off as friends. She took it quite well than I expected. I think deep down, she knew too.â
âKnew what?â
âThat I was undeniably, irrevocably in love with you.â
âDo you really have to use big adjectives?â
Jungkook shrugged and chuckled, âMakes for good conversation. Iâm trying to communicate better, remember?â
It was your turn to chuckle and lean your forehead against his.Â
âIâm sorry it took me so long to get here, ____. I put you through so much pain and I just let it happen.â
You shook your head, wanting to let Jungkook know this wasnât all on him.
âIf anything, you have always made me so happy, Jungkook. I donât get to show you how much all the time.â
âCan we start over?â Jungkook looked at you, full of hope.
âI would love that.â
âI love you, ____.â
My best friend in this entire world, whom I love.
âI love you, too, Jungkook.â
My best friend in this entire world, who loves me back.
Your hotteok was already paid for by Jungkook before you even had the chance to pay for it yourself. âItâs all taken care of,â Jungkook said.
Both of you were already hungry from running so you decided to eat right there under the hotteok stand. You could see a black car parked across the street and assumed that it must be Mr. Hong-sik. You both ate in silence for a while, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain until you felt Jungkook tugging your sleeve.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âCome on, ____â
âWhere are we going?â
âThere!â
You looked to where Jungkook was pointing with his finger. There was nothing there but the school.
âYou want to go back to where we came from?â
âNot really. School is boring,â Jungkook mused and before you knew it, you were being pulled in the middle of pouring rain.
âWhat are you doing, Jungkook? We are going to get wet!â
âWe already are, ____! Come on!â
You both had to shout over the steady noise of the rain. You realized Jungkook wasnât kiddingâ he was really under the rain, in the middle of the schoolâs wide, open space, waiting for you to join him.Â
âYou are insane, Jeon Jungkook!â you shouted, but he just grinned that much harder. He took both your hands and led you to jump and dance in the rain.
âMaybe I am, but itâs fun to dance in the rain with someone else!â
You felt so glad to be living the same time with someone as Jungkook after that day.Â
The day you will forever be grateful for.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts jungkook#bts au#mwillow: perhaps love#bts fanfiction
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Death to All Might, Rebirth to Yagi Toshinori

So about All Might. Iâve been extremely wary of talking about what could happen to him because straight up saying âI donât think heâs gonna dieâ is asking the universe to spite me. Plus it also feels like a room full of people turning to stare at me as if I said the Sun isnât a star. Man has death flags everywhere, I know.Â
But, okay, *Bill Nye voice* consider the following:
Mr. Yagi here, if he overheard everything, just received the final nail in the coffin on his career. His time as the symbol of peace is not only over, it was in fact partially responsible for the current state of things, since he once did so much on his own that his absence now makes heroes and civilians alike ill-prepared to cope. I think it was very apt for that one guy to be wearing an All Might shirt--he was acting as a mouthpiece for the latent societal problems embedded in All Mightâs legacy.Â
We know already that heâs been feeling useless. I love this scene and although Iâm not gonna talk about it right this second, remember what Aizawa says about just âbeing hereâ being enough:


And we know from conversations with Inko that Toshinori is also reframed his purpose around looking after Izuku. But in the end, Izuku rejected his help, and it was his classmates instead who were able to save him. Now the very progress of humanity is rejecting him too. You may me wondering how on Earth I donât see the logical conclusion of all this being his death. Hold on. It actually has a lot to do with the fact that weâre all expecting it. Nighteye himself saw it, and despite any contrary convictions anyone might have, the plot doesnât seem to be veering away from that end. All Might Is Gonna Die, says absolutely everything.Â
Itâs occurring to me that I have previous experience with this kind of plotline that probably little to no one else in this fandom shares, being that Iâve read a certain book series in which the main character is told in no uncertain terms that he will die (no, Iâm not talking about hp). The series in question is T*e Und*rland Chronicl*s (censoring so it doesnât get put in their side of tumblr) and Iâm sorry but Iâm about to go on a shameless tangent about it and spoil the ending for you.
So in this series there is a prophecy in every book, each one having something to do with war and conflict, and so far all of them have been right. In the last book [mc] finds out that itâs prophesied that he will be killed. Lots of the things in the prophecies are convoluted and metaphorical, but no, this one literally says âwhen the [mcâs title] has been killed.â He spends the whole book coming to terms with this, and he gives into it, only to find himself waking up in the hospital instead. âWow, plot twist. /sâ you may be thinking, and yeah sure, the mc in a kids book survived, big shocker. But it doesn't end there. After the war, there are peace talks, but they escalate until the two sides are on the verge of declaring war again. And [mc], bless him, has just been caught in the middle of all of this the entire time. Heâs sick as shit of fighting, of watching the suffering and death of people he cares about. He draws his sword against both of them angrily, gives a speech saying he wonât take a side, and then promptly breaks his sword across his knee: âThere. [mcâs title in the prophecies] is dead. I killed him.â Heâs giving a huge middle finger to everyone there, to the man who wrote the prophecies, to the entire fucked up culture of it all. And so something that was taken literally turns out to be metaphorical. That is, if you still believe in the prophecies at all.
Hopefully youâre catching my drift here. What Iâm saying is, even though this other series has nothing to do with bnha, it goes to show sometimes itâs the most absolute certainties that are red herrings, and a âdeathâ can consequently be a symbolic one. In All Mightâs case, it could be the death of hero society and a rejection of his own past. In other words, character development for Toshinori himself that reflects on the way the world is changing, too. Also thereâs the fact that the mc from that other series Iâm trying not to name has an honorary title, and Iâm imagining that role he occupied âdyingâ could correspond to something that amounts to, âAll Might is dead. I (Yagi Toshinori) killed him.âÂ
And hereâs another thing: we also have to ask ourselves what good a dead Toshinori is to Izuku, narratively speaking. Yes, Izuku has spent his whole life idolizing even the more toxic parts of All Might, and his idealized vision of his hero does need to âdie.â But how about Toshinori as a father figure?  Izuku regretting that his last interaction with Toshinori was to reject his help may drive home the fact that he shouldnât go off on his own, but at this point itâs kinda redundant. If anything it would negate some of the progress that was just made because itâd make him extra paranoid about losing other people too. To be honest, the whole âUncle Benâ trope, the mentor/father figure who dies and gives the mc a reason to do better, is so tired. Experiencing the death of a loved one really doesnât deserve to be romanticized like that. I might as well admit that Iâm speaking from experience, and let me tell you, losing someone you love suddenly, when you werenât around, and with unfinished business--it makes you paranoid as hell that it will happen again. It literally gives me nightmares. Yâall, I cannot stress enough that trauma does not equal character development. Granted, just because I know this doesnât mean Horikoshi does, but in general he does seem to lead his characters toward healing.
Okay, back to the present. Toshinori is turning away from UA. He likely feels useless and rejected. We can infer that what happens next will involve Stain, and we have a couple of extra clues to go with it:Â Stain considers All Might a true hero, and has stated that he would let All Might kill him. And since Horikoshi loves his parallels, we also have this fight between Endeavor and this random villain who admires him so much that he wants to die by Endeavorâs hand:


This suggests a confrontation in which Stain challenges All Might to live up to himself as he once was, so that as a hero he can vanquish Stain and symbolically overcome society's perversion of that role. But based on what All Might has learned about the system he upheld, Stain is wrong. All Might is not a âtrue heroâ in the sense that the societal issues Stain witnessed exist not in spite of All Might, but (in part) because of him, because he took too much of the responsibility for himself.
Stain probably had no idea about the personal cost of All Mightâs lonely burden until after the fact. Maybe heâs seeing it now. So then perhaps the confrontation would be more about Stain claiming heâs just as fake as the rest. Either way, Toshinori has the opportunity to denounce himself and be rid of âAll Might,â  to stop living in his own shadow. Nighteyeâs vision has been defied before, and I honestly wouldnât be surprised if the combination of society shifting + Toshinoriâs own conviction is enough to do it again and work fate in his favor.
He is not All Might. He is Yagi Toshinori: quirkless, worn down, and directionless except for his dedication to Izuku. If he survives his interaction with Stain, he can resolve his imperfect mentorship by confessing about his shortcomings and simply supporting Izuku as a part of his family, not as his teacher (as Aizawa said, just âbeing thereâ). And thatâs how you really get character development, for both of them. I mean, shit, imagine Toshinori straight up telling Izuku to stop calling him All Might.
#disclaimer: I have a lot of emotional investment in dadmight#so I am hella biased#but hopefully I also have some unique insight to share#all might#yagi toshinori#bnha#mha#bnha meta#bnha 325#bnha 326#lin speaks
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No, Re-Destro Is Not Destroâs Literal Son
and
Yes, I Will Die On This Hill
I have a number of small, persistent quibbles with some of the widespread misapprehensions I see included in BNHA fanfic, quoted as fact in meta posts, even cited on the wiki. Quirk cancellation restraints, what the 20% quirklessness data point means in practice, when Kurogiri comes into existence relative to the time of the Shimura Family Massacre, things like that. My biggest one, though, is as the title suggests: the idea that Yotsubashi Rikiya is Yotsubashi Chikaraâs son.
I donât entirely know where this confusion comes from. As far as I can tell, the early scanlations didnât get it wrongâone rendered the line in Chapter 218 about Destro having a child he didnât know about as being children, plural, but otherwise, they were all accurate enough. It seems people just assumed that the child mentioned in 218 must be Re-Destro, who was, after all, right there on the panel. Even though the scanlations never said it, even though the official translation never said it, even though ample evidence in the manga disproves it, the idea still got around that Rikiya is Chikaraâs son.
I have and will maintain that this is obviously wrong if you stop to think about it for even a moment, but unfortunately, most people donât. The error can be found on less well-tended parts of the fandom wiki[1]; itâs in tumblr meta posts about the villains; itâs in fanfic.
And now, god help me, it is on the official anime website, too.
âStillness-in-green, maybe you should consider that you might just be wroââ
I will face BONES and walk backwards into hell.
But if you want, you can come with me, and Iâll explain on the way. Hit the jump.
Dialogue + Narration
There are two places where the relationship between Chikara and Rikiya is explicitly addressedâthe lead-in to the dinner scene in Chapter 218 and the fight between Clone!Shigaraki and RD in Chapter 232. If you include the Ultra Analysis databook, the number goes up to four: once each in Re-Destro and Destro Classicâs character blurbs.
Letâs take a look at each of those places, shall we?
The relevant Japanese text here is in the first narration box: ćă©ă, kodomo.
Kodomo is not gendered. It literally just means child. The key kanji is ć, ko. Like most kanji, it has a lot of potential readings, and you can add other kanji to it to modify it. Add æŻ and you get musuko, son. Pronounce ć as shi instead of ko, and you get a term that is frequently, though not exclusively, used to refer to boys. Add 愳 to that reading and you get joshi, woman/girl. ć is in a lot of words, many of them gendered! Used for kodomo as Hori does here, though, it does nothing to indicate a gender one way or the other.
Also too, it does nothing to indicate that Rikiya is the child in question; it simply states that there was such a child, somewhere in the world. Now, the natural assumption for anyone who knows how the graphic novel medium works and who understands basic literary analysis would be that the significant character we just met is, in fact, the child in questionâexcept that everything else we learn about Destro and the original Meta Liberation Army here makes it entirely impossible.
Iâll do a full breakdown on why that is in the next section. In the meantime, hereâs the next reference:
Here, weâre looking at the phrase the Viz translation renders as, âHis blood runs through these veins.â The literal Japanese there is, Desutoro no matsuei chi o tsugu mono! In a literal translation, chi o tsugu mono means, âone who inherits the blood,â or, more loosely, âblood successor.â Itâs matsueiâæ«èŁâthatâs the key word here.
Japanese has several words to express the concept of âdescendant.â Matsuei is one word; the data book uses shison. So whatâs the difference? Well, Iâll talk about shison in a moment, but I had an inkling of it just from looking at the kanji in matsueiââendâ and âdescendantâ respectively, leaving me with an impression of something like a final descendant or the terminus of the bloodline. Further research confirmed it: shison can refer to any lineal blood tie, but matsuei refers to a bloodlineâs final inheritor, the person at the end of a long line of many, or even countless, generations. Itâs the difference between being able to point to a grandparent and the kind of painstaking genealogical research that lets you[2] point to a famous royal from eight hundred years agoâmatsuei is a word that very much assumes the existence of those countless generations.
So not only does Rikiyaâs line there not imply that heâs Chikaraâs son, but his specific word choice also tells us that he cannot be Chikaraâs son. Thatâs, uh. Pretty conclusive, I would say.
Lastly, though, thereâs also the data book. This is, perhaps, the actual closest youâre going to get to a manga equivalent of those character blurbs on the anime website, at least until such time as Hori deigns to give the MLA types character profile pages. (I live ever in hope.)
There are two relevant bits of text, one in Re-Destroâs entry, and the other in Destro Classicâs. The first describes how Re-Destro organizes the MLA as Desutoro no chi o tsugu mono: the same phrase he uses for himself in the manga, minus the matsuei. @codenamesazanka (the one who told me about the databook references among other citations, bless) rendered it as âDestroâs blood successorâ; I have also seen it given as âthe successor of Destroâs bloodline.â Note again, the lack of reference to a father/son bond.
Chikaraâs entry uses that other descendant word I mentioned before, ïżœïżœïżœć«, shison. Notice that the term uses that ko kanji from kodomo before? As it does in joshi, ć here reads shi. The other kanji, ć«, means grandchild. Thus, literally, grandchild-childâor, in the vernacular, simply descendant.
And then we have the anime website.
So, for comparisonâs sake, the anime website uses æŻćâthe same combination of kanji that I said earlier gives you musuko, son. Heck, it even uses ç¶, chichi, for Destroâfather. Itâs as explicit as itâs possible to be, and I just donât know why or how the anime website could fuck that up so bad when absolutely nothing in the manga describes the two Yotsubashis that way, and, indeed, one specific word choice actually rules out the possibility.
So, thatâs all the manga says directly. Itâs not the only evidence there is, though. In fact, the next piece makes it even more clear how colossally and impossibly wrong a father/son connection for Destro and his modern successor is.
Timeline
The long and short of this section is, âSince Harima Oji was Sako Atsuhiroâs great-great-grandfather, there is no possible way that Destroâwho pre-dated Harimaâcan be Re-Destroâs father.â If you read that sentence and nodded your complete understanding and agreement, feel free to skip ahead to the last section. If youâd like the full explanation it takes to reach that sentenceâs conclusion, though, read on.
So, aside from the word matsuei, the timeline is the most telling piece of evidence to my eye. I address it secondly rather than firstly because itâs less direct than the explicit narration; it relies on drawing conclusions based on things weâve been told elsewhere rather than on the immediately relevant text. Oh, Mr. Compressâs relationship to Harima is explicit enough, but on what am I basing my claim that Destro predates him?
Regarding that, thereâs no explicit year relative to My Hero Academiaâs current events given for when Destro and the original Meta Liberation Army were active; the same is true for Harima Ojiâs escapades. However, we are given some broad-strokes information, relative not to current events, but rather to the history of heroism as a legal institution in Japan.
We know that there was a widespread, lengthy period of chaos following the rise of quirksâcalled meta-abilities in those early years. At some point, however, people began to search for a way for meta-humans to live in peace with non-metas. The compromise that was reached was the foundation of professional heroism in Japanâwhile the use of meta-abilities would be legal in private settings, it was only by becoming licensed by the state as âheroesâ that people could use their quirks in public.[3]
The legislation curtailing the use of meta-abilitiesâand the appropriation of a dead womanâs language to popularize a law establishing exactly the opposite of what she used that language to call forâis what catalyzed the rise of the original MLA. Thus, we can position Destro as being alive and active around the same time that heroism as a legal institution was being formed. Since we further know that he committed suicide in prison, we can assume that his child was conceived at some point prior to his capture. Ergo, Destroâs child, were they alive today, would be as old as Japanese professional heroism itself.
Next, consider Harima Oji, the Peerless Thief, a criminal who targeted the riches of âsham heroes.â Weâre specifically told that he was active in the days in which the current system was settling into placeâe.g. he only became active once the Hero System was established enough to have produced corrupt heroes. Weâre told he preached reformationâhe wasnât just some pre-existing criminal who saw a shiny new target in heroes; he had specific grievances which he wanted addressed by the system, and which the system was not addressing.
The earliest Harima could possibly be active, then, is concurrent with DestroâHarima fighting against the corrupt people who had found their way into the new heroic institution, and Destro fighting against using the institution of heroism to oppress non-heroes. What I think is more likely, though, is that Harima came after DestroâHarima needed to have had time to realize what kinds of fakes had been drawn to this shiny new career path, maybe even to spend some time trying to change things the legal way.
I donât suspect they were separated by very longâI would imagine Destro was easily within Harimaâs living memory, and might well have influenced why he chose the path of protest that he didâbut I do think they were separate.
Moving forward, then, Mr. Compress is four generations distant from his famous ancestor. Thus, even if you assume that Harima is of the same generation as Chikara, thatâs what youâre looking at for Chikaraâs child: someone who, were they alive today, would be old enough to be the great-grandparent of a thirty-two-year-old man.
Re-Destroâs probably a few years older than Mr. C, sure,[4] but that man doesnât have Ujikoâs slow-aging quirk. Unless you want to start pulling theories about cryogenic stasis the story for some reason never saw fit to mention out of thin air, Re-Destro is in no way old enough to fit the bill.
This is backed up by one other piece of the timeline as well, and one more place we can look at language:
The small child at the center of the image is Rikiya, so young that heâs in schoolboy shorts for a meeting otherwise so formal that heâs been made to wear a tie. Heâs, what, six to nine here, tops? And the adults speaking to him say that theyâve been in hiding for generationsâ代ă
, daidai, the kanji for generation followed by a kanji that just means, âSee that kanji written right before me? Yeah, just read that one again.â
The original MLA was active for only a handful of years, and, per Chapter 218, they didnât dissolve until Destro was captured. Thus, we can assume they have been in hiding since then, but not before then. With that in mind, this is another line that renders a father/son relationship impossible.
Remember, Chikara already had a child in the world circa his capture. If Rikiya were Chikaraâs son, then Destroâs capture and his armyâs subsequent dissolution could not have happened any farther back than nine months plus however old Rikiya was in this exact moment of his youth. Rikiya, who we see here as a child of less than ten.
Ten years in hiding doesnât make one generation; it damn sure doesnât make multiple ones.
Now, you could make theories about cryogenic statis that would explain this ludicrous discrepancy, sure. You could also theorize about e.g. artificial insemination,[5] or time stop quirks, or any number of other possibilities in the vast panoply the HeroAca world offers. The point is, though, that you donât need to. There was, in the manga, no discrepancy that needed to be explained. It is only fanon misinterpretation and a glaring disinterest in the seriesâ villains from official sources that have presented this issue.
Iâm praying that itâs all just a misunderstanding on the part of whoever maintains the website, and that the anime itself will render the relevant bits of dialogue correctly. Given the extreme cuts and alterations that My Villain Academia has been subjected to thus far, though, Iâm sure you can appreciate my being concerned.
âŠSo thatâs the meat of it. The idea that Rikiya is Chikaraâs son is wrong simply on the basis of whatâs said in the text, and itâs doubly wrong on the basis of the timeline. There is, though, one other thing I think points towards Re-Destro being exactly the descendant he says he is, not a son playing down the connection out of humility or something. This one is a lot more headcanon-y, though, so I saved it for last.
MLA Social Dynamics
Itâs quite simple. We have, in the MLA, a group of people that venerates Destroâs bloodline to an obviously unhealthy degree, putting up portraits of him wherever they can get away with it, tagging his successor with a âRe-â as if to invoke reincarnation or miraculous return, entirely willing to throw their lives away for what they think was his cause, and othersâ lives if those others say anything too scathing about the words Destro wrote, quite as if they treat Destroâs memoir as some sort of holy writ.
They venerate Destro that much, and youâre trying to tell me that they wouldnât just call a spade a spade and acknowledge RD as the son of their great leader? Come on.
Since long before I turned up the matsuei factoid in researching this piece, since long before Mr. Compress gave us such a helpful generational comparison, Iâve held the opinion that, given a group that holds their leaders in such high esteem, with such particular regard for bloodline, the only reason Rikiya does just call himself a descendant, rather than citing the specific term for what he is, is that the specific term is distant enough that it actually does sound more impressive to just say âdescendant,â rather than something like, âgreat-great-great-grandson.â That kind of thing just begs the question, âWhat took you guys so long?â or, âYou and how many other people, buddy?â
Mr. Compress may have the panache to carry off a line like that, but Rikiyaâs a different story. If he had something so amazing up his sleeve as, âI am the son of the great Destro,â I have to think heâd just say it proudly, not fall back on the impressionistic vaguery of something like chi o tsugu mono. Even if I had no other evidence to work with, Iâd think the sameâall the evidence you need is right there in the character writing of who Rikiya and the MLA are and how they talk about the man whose dreams Re-Destro was raised to carry.
A closing note: I will allow that Rikiya is being overdramatic when he uses matsuei and its connotation of countless generations. There are a few other things we can use to trace the history of heroismâUjikoâs age, and the 18-years-or-less periods that One For All was held by its pre-All Might bearersâand running those numbers leads me to believe that it is, in fact, entirely possible to count the number of generations between Rikiya and Chikara, and the number, while higher than one, is probably not all that high. Certainly matsuei is being more dramatic about it than is entirely warranted, hence the poetic flourish of the official translationâs, âHis blood runs through these veins!â The theatricality only makes me fonder of him, however.
------------------------
FOOTNOTES
[1] It was changed and reverted on Re-Destroâs page at least twice before it finally stuck in January of this year. Chikaraâs page took until July to be corrected, and itâs still wrong on various other subpages.
[2] Or your kids, if you have those. Only the last generation in the bloodline is the matsuei, but thatâs a moving goalpost as long as the bloodline is still propagating.
[3] This summary of events combines what we know from both My Hero Academia proper and the Vigilantes spin-off, which I recommend to anyone whoâs at all interested in finer-grained worldbuilding on Hero Society Japan than the main series makes time for.
[4] I personally headcanon him as 42.
[5] To which point I would refer back to the word kodomo, and note that that word choice indicates that Destro had a child in the world. Not a sperm sample kept in a freezer somewhere, waiting for the right would-be mother: an actual child. Some quick research on my part says that the farthest that term stretches is in using it to refer to yet-unborn children, fetuses still in the womb. Seeing as Japan doesnât even allow inmates conjugal visits in real life, much less in a setting where villains are so dehumanized that Tartarus is an acceptable punishment for them, the line about Destro âhaving a child out in the worldâ takes us right back to a date of conception no later than Destroâs final night of freedom.
#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha#bnha meta#yotsubashi rikiya#yotsubashi chikara#re-destro#destro bnha#meta liberation army#my writing#i have thoughts on the anime's nonsense too but#hahawow#that's gonna take a little longer to get coherent#preview: it's not about capitalism#it's about fear
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No regrets
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen
Pairing: Sukuna x reader (reader is referred to with gender neutral pronouns, but there are slight implications of them being AFAB)
Author note: At a whooping 11.5k words, itâs finally here! Thank you all for your patience as well as those who gave feedback during the initial interest check! I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this long piece! A bit of forewarning, this piece is rather dark, so please read the content warnings carefully and only proceed if you are comfortable doing so.
Revisions made on 3/30/2021
Warnings: Implications of noncon | abusive behavior | unhealthy obsession | death | slight gore | Please ask to tag additional content warnings that I have failed to disclose
Minors do not read/interact with this post!
Heian era
It was only a matter of time before the king of curses came to your village and slaughtered you all. It was inevitable, but the village elders were determined to hand over every last scrap of fabric and goods if it satiated the cursed being for a short while, knowing the all powerful curse was an indulgent one. Your village was a well known trading settlement, so gathering and setting aside the best of the best on the market was rather easy with all the merchants coming in and out of the town nearly every day.
Your family specialized in sword crafting, often forging or repairing swords for soldiers or aristocratic families who merely collected them as works of art. Your father taught you a bit of the craft and a few seasoned samurai humoured you and taught you some forms while they awaited repairs, but you mostly spent time helping your mother around your quaint home. Your days with them were peaceful, even with the ever looming and expected arrival of Ryomen Sukuna blanketing your people with constant fear.
The day finally came, yet all the preparations you and your people took to secure a better chance of survival still didnât feel like it was enough as the four-armed monster of a man easily destroyed several houses with a mere flick of his hand and cut down several innocent individuals who fled last minute due to their anxiety getting the better of them. He was at least willing to see all that was being offered to him when it was made clear your people were not going down without trying their luck, but that sadistic smile of his was all the proof everyone needed to know that their careful efforts meant nothing.
Your village elders remained determined, and to the shock of you and your parents, they grabbed you and offered you up as one final offering. You were young, the youngest in the village in fact, and unmarried too. A perfect candidate for Sukunaâs harem and they knew this when they turned and grabbed you without a second thought. You still remember the way your mother began to smack your elders with her shoe when they yanked you away from her and your fatherâs side. Bless her heart.
Perhaps a part of you knew that your status as the youngest would be taken advantage of if things werenât working out. Sukunaâs harem was only a rumor, scary gossip whispered amongst the housewives. Yet the idea of a monster like him having a harem didnât seem so farfetched. You knew better than to question the validity of the lucky few who got away and were displaced because of Sukunaâs village razing and massacring.
Whether he accepted the last second addition to the offer pile or killed every single one of you right then and there, you accepted that your life would never return to how it once was before he came. You didnât make so much as a peep of discomfort when the brute began to manhandle you, pulling back parts of your clothes away from your body to inspect you in front of the entire village, in front of your distraught parents. You didnât wince in pain when he roughly grabbed your cheek between two of his meaty fingers and examined your face like you were merely a piece of art, an object. You just went completely numb.
Everyone, including yourself, was shocked when he agreed to take you along with all the goods your village offered, but not without ordering them to prepare another pile for his followers to collect every following month from now on. He made it clear that if they held back a single grain of rice or gave him anything else but the best, heâd send your body back to them in a bloody sack before reuniting them with you in the afterlife shortly after.
As the king of curses hauled you away like a sack of potatoes, your emotions came flooding back in. You kicked, scream, cried and begged like a moody toddler for your mom and dad to help you, to not let this monster take you away and do know who knows what to you. The last you see of them before youâre forcefully knocked out is your mother suddenly collapsing on the ground like all the energy she had just left her body instantaneously. Your brawny father seemed equally at a loss as well.
When you were brought back to Sukunaâs temple, you were hauled away by servants after he unceremoniously dropped you on the ground and retreated to his chambers. You were thoroughly bathed, skin rubbed raw of outside filth and dressed into a fresh new robe before being whisked away to Sukunaâs quarters by his demand.Â
That first week under his roof was meant to break you, but for some reason you kept fighting back because of something a bit stupid. You wanted to keep your old clothes the maids forced you out of and you wouldnât shut up or keep still under him no matter how much he harmed or degraded you. You donât know why you kept pushing back against him over something so meager. The fabric wasnât anything that fancy. The color was faded and you were even beginning to outgrow them. Itâs the only memento you have of your home, so maybe thatâs why your mind zeroed in on it and refused to yield to his torturous ministrations until you made certain it wouldnât be taken away from you.
âAgain with those rags you call a kimono?â he clicked his tongue with annoyance. âYou want to keep them so badly? Fine, but donât think Iâll be so accommodating next time.â
Living in a merchant town, you know how to tell when someone is trying to swindle you. As much as you hate the man who has been violating your body for literal days now, you can tell that he means what he has stated.
When you finally relax your body, he lets out a disgustingly child-like cackle, but before you can express any sort of rage that bubbled up within yourself, your mind goes numb once more if only to alleviate the pain youâre in just a bit.
There are two types of fates for those in Sukunaâs harem. There are the favoured concubines, who live relatively better than the disfavoured, who are made into servants. Of course, this is all a meticulous set up by the king of curses himself. Those he shows higher favoritism towards are desperate to remain in his good graces if only to make their way of living that bit easier to bear. Those he turns into lowly servants and brushes aside are desperate to rise above their rank and gain the privilege and spoils he grants to the selected few. Itâs all an elaborate plan to instill discord between members of his harem so he can sit back and watch them tear each other apart without lifting a finger.
Your fighting back was what earned you an automatic spot amongst his favoured. He thought he had broken you, but just as soon as you yielded to him you flared up and began to fight back once more. It was invigorating, seeing the rage and desperation in your eyes when you were quiet and had a distant, blank look just moments before. How long had it been since a human raised their fist against him? Far too long for him to remember.
You were an outlier. Where all would refuse to meet his gaze whenever he passed through, you would always meet and hold his gaze without fail or hesitation. You talked back, cursing him a thousand ways into the next phase of the moon. You never bowed when others did. Never.
Your disobedience gave him plenty of reasons to drag you to his chambers and attempt to break you once more, only for you to shut your mind down as soon as you were thrown into his bed. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism? A way of trying to disassociate from all the rough treatment you endure under him? A part of him is grateful you arenât like the others, that youâve come up with a way of protecting yourself while the others around you, who give into the despair and hopelessness he brings them or lie to themselves that he holds some sort of affection towards them, if only to find some sort of hope through this hell even if it means lying to yourself. Both of which bore him immensely as well as annoy him greatly.
Itâs sudden and neither of you can recall when it began, but after he was done having his way with you and you regained your sense of reality and would devolve into the usual episode of flailing rage and crying, he began to hold you against him and whisper soothing phrases like âgood jobâ or âItâs over, you did wellâ. He kept his many arms wrapped around your shaking figure, waiting for you to eventually exhaust yourself and pass out before doing so himself. When the sun rises you are always gone from his chambers. How you manage to escape right from under him is a mystery, but he doesnât have much of a desire to ask you about it. He likes waking up surprised. Hardly anything surprises him anymore.
It becomes clear to everyone that Sukuna acts differently towards you, treats you differently than the rest of his concubines. There are even periods of time where the rest of his harem is given little to no attention because heâs completely focused on you. The time he spends with you isnât anything kind or relieving. He purposely says things that offend you and have you screaming at him. Should anyone else say what you say to him in return, heâd rip their tongues out and swallow it before their very eyes without any remorse. But you? Heâs smiling down at you, as if you were an actor entertaining him with an elaborate and well-rehearsed performance.
âDamn you! Damn this temple! Damn your ancestors for existing and bringing you into this world!â
âYes, thatâs the spirit!â he gives you a toothy grin, his sharp canines glinting under the light of the sun. âDamn me and damn the rest of the world for that matter!â
His encouragement only infuriates you more. Without a second thought you began to throw whatever it is you can get your hands on at him. Your comb, your shoes, your untouched makeup products, anything in sight is hauled at the deranged man who dodges everything with ease. Just as you throw a jar of ink at his head and it shatters against the way, bathing the wood with dark ink, he grabs you and you both tumble back into your unmade futon.
As usual, you thrash and voice your disdain as he presses his lips against your neck and aggressively undresses you. Heâs high off the adrenaline from earlier, making his ministrations much more excruciating than they normally are.Â
To him, it feels like a passionate session of lovemaking and heâs left light headed when he finishes.
For you, itâs just another day under his reign and body, your mind going numb as soon as he puts you on your hands and knees.
Just as quickly as he gave you most of his attention, he turned away and left you in the dust.
You have been his concubine for over a year when it happens. Your village continues to uphold their end of their deal and provide him with all the luxurious goods they can get their hands on each month. Youâre not sure if heâs trying to torture you more or genuinely thinks heâs bringing you some sense of comfort and calm, but he personally brings you a small bunch of fabrics and trinkets that your father specifically went out of his way to get for you, hoping you would receive them somehow as a reminder that he still thinks of you. Itâs during these small moments of Sukuna passing on these items that you learn that your mother passed after you were taken.
You didnât shed even one tear when this information was given to you, as a part of you knew that was the case after you saw her collapse. Sukuna expected you to fly into another fit of rage. That was the only reason he told you if heâs being honest. Heâs caught between feeling disappointed or worried when you just hummed in acknowledgement as you rolled up the soft, intricate rolls of fabric and stored them away. You never did anything with them, so they were sure to collect a layer of dust like the rest in due time
No one, not even Sukuna or even yourself, expected your village to take up arms and fight back against the followers he sent out to collect his offerings. When word came back of what transpired, Sukuna was tempted to take you with him and force you to watch as he slaughtered your village in retaliation for breaking the accord. He didnât, nor did he send back your disfigured corpse like he promised he would back then. He simply went out, killed them, and then came right back to wash off all their spilled blood. All within the same day.Â
After he killed all the villagers, he attempted to locate your father amongst the scattered corpses, but they were too mutilated and disfigured to discern who was who. Even if they werenât, itâs not like he remembered what your father looked like. Did you even bear any resemblance to him? He overheard you speaking with one of the other concubines that your father was an armorer and was tempted to grab one of the expertly crafted swords the villagers were carrying and bring it back to you, blood and all staining the scabbard. He decided against it.
Heâs demoted many concubines, all with the purpose of watching them try to regain the meager luxury and privilege they grew accustomed to. He did the same for you, eager to see you break character and come crawling back to him with pitiful desperation.Â
A part of him knew that it wouldnât take much effort on your part to have him changing his mind. Heâd easily forgive you for the betrayal of your village. All you had to do was put on a show and give him the entertainment he wanted from you. You can kick and scream and deny him all you want, but heâs broken many people like you before. Heâs had you under his spell since day one.
Except, you didnât do anything. When he sent you to live within the overcrowded servants chambers near the far end of his temple, you never put up any sort of fight or caused a scene. Not even when he gave away all the fabrics your father sent you to the other favoured concubines, going as far as to force them to wear the garments whenever and wherever your presence is at. He waited with giddy for someone to inform him of how you lashed out at another girl and attempted to rip the cloth off of her body because they were wearing the fabrics meant for you. But there was nothing from you.
When he dragged you to his quarter and began to violate you like normal, he forced himself to brag and even fabricate details of the day he slaughtered the people from your village. He even lied about how your father asked about you before he was killed, falsely stating that the man had a smile on his face when Sukuna told him that you received all the goods he selected just for you.
Like always, your mind went blank until he finished. There were no twisted words of comfort afterwards like before. He simply ordered you out once he was done, one final attempt to invoke something out of you. You merely redressed and left in silence. He nearly got up and dragged you back, but once again, he decided against it.
One day he ordered a few men to build a crude looking home out back, detached from the main temple, and have you moved in it upon completion. If his normal efforts wonât elicit the usual reaction out of you, then heâll take a different approach. Heâll deprive you of everything, social interaction, decent and consistent meals, and a stable shelter. Heâll have you isolated for a short while, after which he will visit you out of pity and revel in the sight of you crawling back into his arms. If the time he forces you alone is not enough to break you, heâll simply extend your stay until you either give him what he wants or die because of your own stubbornness.
It hasnât even been a day since youâve been moved from the servant's chamber to your new quarters, and already heâs come to visit you. Within the same breath that tells you that your only other option besides begging for his forgiveness is to rot away in this poorly made shack, he gives you one final chance to change his mind, to beg him to take you back into his good graces.
The tatami is poorly crafted and discolored. The rafters used to construct the frame of the house already show signs of rotting and water damage. Before he allowed himself in, the tiles on the roof appeared to be hastily made and were not properly laid out. It was lightly raining outside, yet you already have a wooden bucket set up to collect leaking water.
âCan I help you?â you ask without glancing over your shoulder. He smirks at the thought of you knowing who he is by presence alone.
âNo,â he smugly answers. âBut maybe I can help you?â
You look back over to him with a mean glare. âYouâre the one that put me here in the first place.â
âNo, I didnât,â he shakes his head to further cement his point. âYouâre in here because your people thought they stood a chance against me and broke our agreement. Killing you would be an act of mercy to them. So long as I keep you alive and slowly torture you in both mind and body, they will never know peace.â
âYouâre lying,â you say with certainty, with no fear. âIâve never lied to you once. I would appreciate it if I can at least be given the same courtesy in return.â
He hates when people demand things from. Most importantly, he hates that youâre right. Your neck is always so small within his grasp, his fingers able to meet and fold over one another without strain. He keeps you suspended in the air just enough to where you can balance yourself on the balls of your feet. Whether you were tall or short, it mattered not. He always towered over you like the predator that he is.
âYou want to know why youâre in this shitty home?â he sneers down. âYouâre in here because youâve begun to bore me. You amused me so much before, but the moment you started depriving me of my source of entertainment on purpose is the moment I decide to deprive you of your basic needs in return. I take what I want, when I want it, in whichever quantity I desire.
âYou want out of here?â He makes a sweeping gesture around the room. âThen you better press your forehead all the way to the floor and beg for me to take you back. Iâll even tell you the exact words you need to say. âPlease Sukuna-sama. Please allow me the privilege of sleeping under the same roof as you. Please let me breathe the same air as you.ââ
He lets you go and grins when you prostrate after regaining your breathe.
âPlease Sukuna-sama,â you beg.
âPlease what?â he mocks. âUse your words.â
He feels a vein pop out on his forehead when you dare to look up and look at him with yet another angry grin. Without an ounce of hesitation, you say, âPlease get out and leave me be.â
He nearly breaks the door from how hard he slams it shut. He abruptly turns around when he hears a roof tile fall over and splat into the muddy dirt. Those followers of his really built you a shitty home, exactly like he ordered them to do.
He feels the urge to gather them and wring their necks one by one, but he doesnât know why.
Sukuna canât sleep during those weeks apart. Not because of you, but because right as he drifts off into slumber heâs abruptly woken up by an intense source of cursed energy flaring up out of nowhere. But just as quickly as he feels it and wakes with a startle, it vanishes without a trace. Heâll go out onto his balcony and try to locate where the energy is coming from, but for some reason he can never pinpoint it despite his superior senses. He tries to suppress his own energy in the hopes of tricking the source into thinking heâs asleep and unsuspecting, but it would seem that theyâre smart enough not to fall for the bait.
He doesnât need sleep in the first place, so heâs tempted to just stay up and catch whoever is trying to scare him red handed and be done with them. The idea of someone getting the upper hand at him and forcing him into a position of defensiveness doesnât sit well with him, so he decides to just let the unknown person have their fun for now and continue this little back and forth with them. Eventually theyâll grow cocky and slip up and heâll confront them when it happens.
Because your little shack is located near the back of the temple, completely out of sight from Sukunaâs view from his balcony, Neither he nor the others notice the plumes of smoke that rise during the dead of night. No one also takes notice of the bits of metal that go missing throughout the temple.
The rise of the next full moon indicates the end of the month. Sukuna sends for someone to go retrieve you, but they never return and heâs left waiting long enough for the moon to reach its highest peak in the sky. When he orders someone else into his quarters heâs met with more silence that only further enrages him.
Just as heâs about to call for Uraume to figure out what the hell was wrong with his servants, he feels it. The cursed energy that heâs been trying to catch off guard the last few weeks. Itâs willingly making itself known, practically begging him to follow its trail and meet with him. Just as quickly as he is able to identify and figure out which direction itâs originating, he notices that it strangely leads him in the direction of your poorly built home.
Itâs impossible that itâs you. Cursed energy is born from negative emotions. Heâs sure you still have an abundance of negative feelings towards him. Yet never did he feel even a speck of cursed energy resonate off of you. His mind immediately wonders if the individual knows of his strange obsession over you and is using you as bait. Itâs foolish on their part, thinking the king of curses would yield for a mere human.Â
His pace quickens despite his internal dismissal, failing to notice that everyone is hiding and waiting in anticipation.Â
When he discovers that the cursed energy is indeed from you, he canât help but to laugh like a crazed hyena. The sword by your side further amuses him and heâs genuinely curious as to how you got the proper materials to craft it.
âIt took a bit of convincing,â you willingly answer his question. âI made everyone believe I could stand a chance against you and they gave me all the materials and tools I needed and looked the other way. I guess watching all those traveling merchants try to hype up their goods came in handy after all,â you look out in the distance as you briefly reminisce on the bygone days of your former life.
He begins to slowly clap with one pair of hands, the other crossed over his chest in amusement. âThis is by far the most entertaining performance Iâve ever witnessed. Bravo. Youâve really outdone yourself this time.â
âIâd gladly accept the compliment, except this isnât a show,â you stand to your full height and get a better grip of the hilt of your sword. âItâs the real deal.â
He erupts into yet another cacophony of wild laughter. âDo you seriously think you can kill me?â
âNo,â you answer, truly throwing him off guard by the way he goes still so suddenly. âBut thatâs alright. Iâm fine with never being strong enough to put a permanent end to you. Only one of us will be walking away from this fight, and I assure you that itâs going to be me.â
You draw your blade out and get into a low, defensive stance. Even under the lackluster light of the moon, he can see how well crafted your weapon is. Heâs reminded of the craftsmanship the weapons your people carried when he slaughtered them, no better than a bunch of wooden sticks against him either way. Immediately, he regrets not bringing back one of their weapons and forcing you to expose to him your knowledge of swordsmanship and blacksmithing. Perhaps then he could have had you brandishing your blade under his command rather than against him.
Oh well, itâs better this way. Itâs just as exhilarating and head swirling as those instances where you damned him with all of your being and threw things at his head. No, itâs more than exhilarating. Itâs downright intoxicating seeing you readying yourself for his first move. How sweet of you to allow him the honor to make the first strike.
âYou truly are something else entirely, beloved,â he dreamily sighs. âDid you honestly think youâd have the upperhand against me just because I gave you a little bit more of my attention?â
âNever,â you reply. You press your eyelids shut for a moment, and the moment you open them up the layer of dissociative numbness vanishes into a look of total focus and emotions he cannot discern. âBut whether I live or die, I have no regrets about tonight.â
You really didnât have enough strength to kill him. However, you did have enough to dismember all twenty of his fingers and seal him away. For the first time in years, the sun rises and bestows its warmth to a world in which two-faced Sukuna does not instill fear upon humanity or stain the earth in their blood. You and those who were under his servitude walk out of his temple as free people, hopeful people. As an act of gratitude for becoming their savior, nineteen others take one of Sukunaâs fingers each and swear to scatter them as far as they can so he cannot be brought back into the world.
As for yourself, you set out to rebuild your destroyed village and take up your fatherâs legacy as a maker of swords. Eventually you meet and settle down with a loving partner and raise children together. You pass on the family trade, your self developed cursed technique, as well as the memories of your time as Sukunaâs concubine. Those who come after you continue to carry on your will, to ensure that Sukuna can never be reborn into the world. Your sword and the old robes you kept after you were taken away are passed down as family heirlooms, but they are never used by any of your descendants.
That is until the year 2018, when Sukuna is resurrected within a compatible vessel.
Modern era
You bear not only a striking resemblance to your ancestor, but many of their memories as well. The family sword that was used against the king of curses is bestowed upon you, now dubbed the next in line to claim the title of clan leader, their preserved kimono now fashioned into a sageo that wraps around the scabbard.
Your family stays out of most affairs within the jujutsu world, but your birth and the strong connection to your ancestor eventually reaches the ears of many prominent figures within this hidden society. They think your birth a bad omen, a sign that the king of curses may return to the world one day. Most are scared, but your family pays them no attention. Even if the damnable curse did find a way to revive into the world, you and most of your family members who have inherited your ancestorâs technique will oppose him just as they did a thousand years ago.
âYou donât look too concerned,â Gojo makes his observation known to you as soon as the two of you settle in the small private room you ushered him to when he came to your family estate. He wanted to confirm the news of Sukunaâs resurrection to you himself. âNone of you do, actually.â
âWe all knew this day would come,â you calmly tell him as you poured him a cup of tea. âThis is the risk our ancestor took when they developed their technique. In exchange for the strength and ability to seal Sukuna away, they willingly gave up the ability to deliver him a fatal and final blow against him.â
âIâm not well-versed when it comes to binding vows and heavenly restrictions,â he takes a moment of pause to sip his now cooled tea, visibly showing his disdain over itâs bitterness. âBut is giving up the satisfaction of killing him really a fair exchange for a specific technique and a bit of cursed energy?â
Your lips pressed together in a grimace. âYou have no idea what it was like living underneath that monsterâs reign. Even if the binding vow had odd conditions skewed against their favor, every bit of what was given up was worth it if it meant regaining their freedom.â
Gojo isnât moved or even impressed by your admittance. He simply shrugs before taking another sip of his tea, face contorting in displeasure once again as he forces himself to swallow the green liquid. Youâre tempted to ask him why he keeps sipping if he hates the flavor, but he begins speaking again before you can voice your thoughts.
âSo, about the vessel,â he leans against his closed fist, propped up by the low table underneath him. âThe higher ups are willing to postpone the kidâs execution in favor of the opportunity to kill Sukuna, but they want someone from your family, preferably you, to be his second shadow so to speak. Youâre the failsafe in case the plan doesnât play out like I promised and the curse needs to be sealed again.â
âSukunaâs vessel...is a child?â you ask incredulously.
âHeâs about your age,â Gojo admits with a displaced smile, but it soon falls once you suddenly erupt into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.
âThatâs priceless!â you say while wiping away a stray tear. âThe king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, stuck inside some teenagerâs body? I bet heâs pissed off and swearing up a storm inside the kid!â
Youâre not sure who exactly is getting the most amusement at the turn of events, you or your ancestor from beyond the grave. After your laughing fit subsides and you straighten yourself out, you turn back to Gojo to ask him the burning question.
âSo when do I get to meet him?â
Itadori Yuuji is the polar opposite of Sukuna. While Sukuna had a smile that both angered and scared your ancestor and those around him, Yuujiâs was like a literal ray of sunshine. Heâs nice, energetic, strong willed and even humorous. Youâre honestly surprised he can act so hopeful despite all thatâs happened to him and has been forced upon his shoulders.
Youâre not going to lie, but you honestly expected a timid and somewhat gloomy kid. Someone easy to manipulate to put it bluntly. Yuujiâs friendly personality is welcomed in your book. Though you admit that now that youâve exchanged a few words with him, you feel bad and pitiful that heâs been marked for death and likely has to deal with Sukuna on a somewhat regular basis.
As Yuuji rambles to you about some childhood incident, the slits underneath his eyes open up and a familiar pair of red eyes meets your gaze. âItâs you,â the manifested mouth on the side of his cheek morphs into a deranged, toothy grin that is so painstakingly recognizable.Â
Your heartbeat picks up and your palms are coated with an instantaneous layer of nervous sweat. You contemplate saying something or simply ignoring the curse, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of hearing the voice of your ancestor acknowledge him in any way. Before you can come to any consensus, youâre amazed at how Yuuji easily slaps his hand over his cheek and tells the curse to buzz off.
Itadori further cements that he is Sukunaâs antithesis as he goes out of his way to apologize to you for the inconvenience the curse caused you (How could he tell you became nervous when Sukuna spoke only two words at you?) He even brings you a can of soda as a sort of peace offering/token of forgiveness! Youâre grateful for the gesture, but you feel bad for letting him think that heâs at fault for something that wasnât even that big of a deal to begin with.
âStill, I made you upset,â he looks down to his empty can and pouts. âIf you donât want to be around me-â
âYuuji,â you interrupt him. âIâm fine, really. My ancestor stood their ground against him once. Surely I can do it again a millennium later.â
âGojo-sensei was telling me about that!â his eyes sparkle with recollection. âThatâs so cool! Youâre basically his arch nemesis!â
You awkwardly laugh at his enthusiasm. âThatâs one way of putting it.â
âSo, Senpai,â he looks at your with a hopeful gaze. âGojo-sensei seems pretty certain this plan of his will work, but what do you think?â
âWell,â you take a quick sip of your drink before continuing. âBefore I tell you what I think about this whole debacle, I need to make a few things thing clear regarding the two of us.â
He obediently nods, face now serious, though it takes you a considerable amount of effort not to laugh from how innocent he still looks. Itâs hard to believe heâs housing the king of curses within himself.
âFirst and foremost, donât call me Senpai! â you firmly say. Donât call me by my family name either. Weâre about the same age, so just call me by my first name from now on. Understood?â
âFirst name, got it!â
âSecond,â you put up two fingers. âThis is the most important point, so pay attention,â you look at him to make sure heâs ready to commit your words into memory. âWhether the plan works out or not, you must never forget one important fact of the matter. You are not Sukuna.â
He flinches, clearly not expecting such words to be directed towards him.
âIâm sure Gojo whipped up some epic tale about my ancestorâs grudge against that two-faced monster. I not only inherited their technique, but also many of their memories during their initial life. In a way, I suppose I hate Sukuna as well, and based on my reaction from earlier when he popped out, Iâm not exactly going to handle moments where he gains control with as much poise as I should.
But remember Yuuji. My discomfort will never be towards you, but the curse you are now bound to,â you reach out and pat his head in assurance. âAs the saying goes âthe enemy of my enemy is a friend.â Which brings me to my final point!â You excitedly profess. âI want us to be friends!â
âWait, really?â he sounds almost unsure over your insistence. âI mean, I donât mind, but I donât want you to feel like you have to put up with me for my sake.â
âIâm not saying we have to be the best of friendsâ you explain. âSince weâre going to be around each other so often, I at least want us to be on friendly terms. I want your time left in this world to be as enjoyable and carefree as possible.â
âI guess we can be friends,â he crosses his arms and stares off in deep thought. âIâm just trying to think of a good starting point to get to know you.â
âYou can always keep it simple and ask me what I like,â you say, laughing at the way he suddenly has an âah hah!â moment and looks at you like an excited puppy.
âDo you like Jennifer Lawrence?âÂ
Yuuji is almost offended that you didnât know who Jennifer Lawrence is. He was utterly flabbergasted that you havenât watched any of her movies either (âI donât even know who she is Yuuji how the hell am I supposed to know she was in movies?â). He went on and on about every single film, but if youâre being honest his 2 minute summaries (infodumping, really) of the plots didnât really do them justice. Out of nowhere he proposes that you and him have a movie night so he can show you exactly what youâre missing! Of course, itâll have to be after the two of you settle into your dorm rooms.
Itâs true that you were offered immediate admission into Tokyo Technical college due to your lineage, but no one but you and your family knew about this. Gojo also knew. He was the one that brought up the idea in the first placeâŠÂ
Oh, Gojo told him. Well now you just feel stupid.
Thatâs how you found yourself in the dormitoryâs common area with Yuuji and your other classmates, Nobara and Megumi. Meeting them wasnât that bad. Just kidding, it was terrifying! Megumi looks exactly the way your family often describes members of the Zenâin clan to look like, blank and unnerving. You honestly thought Nobara would beat you up just from the way she was looking at you with such an observing glare, completely forgetting the fact that youâre a descendant of the person who single handedly sealed Sukuna away.
Oh yeah, Yuuji told them that! Was he not supposed to?
âHah?â Nobara scowls at Yuuji, who puts his hands up in defense. âYou mean their old ass grandparent turned that ugly ass curse into bite sized pieces?â
âI did,â you answer, but you quickly catch your mistake and correct yourself. âThey did. Along with the sword they used to cut Sukuna down I also inherited most of their memories which is...Itâs not as pleasant as you would think.â
Her expression softens up a bit and she steps in front of you. She holds out her palm and makes a beckoning gesture. âThe sword,â she clarifies when you look at her with confusion. âLet me hold it.â
You make a quick trip back to your room to retrieve it. She nearly doubles over into you once you pass it over to her.
âDamn! How much does this thing weigh?!â she looks at you with disbelief
âIt weighs next to nothing whenever I hold it,â you explain, taking it into your hold and tossing it in the air and twirling it around to further drive your point.
âBullshit! Itâs like 50 pounds!âÂ
âIt canât be that bad,â Megumi comments.
âOh yeah? Here!â Nobara grabs and tosses it at him, much to your dismay. âSee?â she shrills when he nearly doubles over himself. âItâs heavy!â
âYeah, ok. This is definitely the sword that took down Sukuna,â Megumi gasps.
âMy turn! My turn!â Yuuji makes grabby hands, but you push yourself between him and Megumi whoâs still holding onto it before he can get too close.
âItâs probably best if you donât touch it. Yâknow?â you point back and forth between him and you.
âOh, right,â he sheepishly remembers. âCrap, the popcorns gonna get cold!â
You sigh in relief when his attention goes elsewhere before quickly heading back to your room to put the weapon away. When you reenter the lounge, Yuuji greets you with a cheery smile before patting the empty space next to him. He wants you to sit beside him, but Nobara seems to have other plans as she sits right in your intended spot and tells you to sit next to her instead. You were honestly scared and a bit reluctant, but your fears subside once you sat down and she locked her arm with yours and leaned her head on your shoulder for the rest of the night.Â
She and Megumi eventually retreated back to their rooms before they could fall asleep on the couch after the second movie concludes.
âDo you want to keep going?â Yuuji asked, hands fidgeting with the next DVD case he had at the ready.
âSure,â you nod, not tired in the slightest just yet.
âSweet!â he gave you a toothy smile before standing up to head towards the dvd player. However, the moment he stood to his full height he went deathly still. His body contorts before swiftly relaxing. He rolls his neck a few times and lets out a relieved sigh. Before you can ask him whatâs wrong, thatâs when you feel that disgusting familiar aura and your heart starts beating like you just did a triathlon in a few short minutes.
âFinally, some fresh air,â he sighs in relief as he arches his back and his spine lets out a few crisp pops. His voice hasnât changed in a thousand years and neither has your fear and disdain for it. When he turns and looks at you with those familiar blood colored irises, you involuntarily reach out to grab your weapon, but you only grab at empty air.
âHey,â you flinch when he addresses you. No, itâs not you heâs talking to. Given your identical appearance and even your cursed energy that you manifested out of habit, in his mind he must think of you as your ancestor themself, not a distant descendant. âItâs been a while.â
âWhat do you want?â you somehow manage to stutter out.
âNothing,â he admits. ââJust want a good look at you.â
If your ancestor or even your family were to see you now, youâre certain theyâd be disappointed in you for going still before your greatest enemy. All those years of hating and experiencing all those horrible memories feel like a complete waste when you canât even muster the strength to bat his hand away when it takes hold of your chin and turns your head over for him to thoroughly inspect you.
âDid you miss me?â he strangely inquires.
Finally. You feel some control over your body come back and answer with an affirmative, âNo.â
âThatâs too bad,â he clicks his tongue with mocking dissatisfaction. âBecause I missed you.â
His face begins to lean into you, lips slightly parted, and you know that heâs going in to press them against yours. Just as youâre about to gather all the strength you can muster and push him away, his body seizes once more and the black markings cross his face and wrists begin to fade and crumble away. An in-control-again Yuuji blinks a few times before checking his surroundings to regain his bearings.
âWhat happened?â he looks down at you and asks, not registering the fact that he was kneeling over you and firmly pushing you back against the couch with a painful grip.
A part of you wanted to punch Yuuji and run back to your room so you can wait out the slight panic attack that overcame you once Sukuna vanished, but you had to remind yourself that you would be hurting Yuuji if you went through with your action. In all honesty, that second point you told him of remembering to never think of himself as Sukuna was more for you than for him. While your ancestor would willingingly strike down any and all who have the slightest bit of affiliation with their tormentor, you are not them. Therefore, you will not stoop down to their discriminating level, no matter how justified it may be.
The night ended on an expected awkward note. Yuuji, bless his heart, went out of his way again to make it up to you. How? He bought a bunch of snacks from a convenience store in the city and gave them to you in a pretty, gift wrapped box. Nobara and Megumi, who helped him put together the forgiveness present, thought the gift itself was dumb and lackluster, but he reasons with them by stating how you also come from a countryside town as well and how youâd definitely like to try some of the Tokyo-exclusive goodies.
Well, the way towards anotherâs forgiveness is through the stomach, or something like that. The exact quote is a bit lost to you since youâre too busy savoring all the odd flavored chips and candies youâve never had the chance to taste back home. Nobara and Megumi feel the immense urge to punch you in the back of your head over how easy you are to win over, but you look so happy eating your second bag of potato chips and Yuuji looks very relieved that heâs earned your forgiveness-Â
Oh wow youâre offering to share your snacks with them? Don't mind if they do!
While all of you try each and every snack Yuuji gifted to you and rate them like youâre all a bunch of snack experts all of a sudden, Sukuna is brewing in his own satisfaction as he watches you through the eyes of his vessel. Nevermind the fact that you sealed him away all those years ago. Heâs back now by a stroke of luck that only seemed to strike again when he saw your familiar figure through Yuujiâs vision. The cursed energy that radiated off of you, the sword you carried by your side, even your face, there was no doubt in his mind that it was the work of fate that you and him were reunited in this new era.
He made the mistake of letting you out of his sight back then, and he isnât going to let it happen again. He wants to take control over his vessel's body each and every time heâs anywhere within your vicinity, but not only does the brat have the convenient ability to suppress him, youâre a rather cautious one. Just when he thinks Yuuji to be alone and susceptible, you appear out of thin air and keep him at a standstill from within. Itâs annoying, but at the same time impressive as well.
While you may be oblivious to his vesselâs budding feelings towards you, he sees this growing fondness Yuuji is beginning to garner towards you as an opportunity, a weakness he can exploit to force a small rematch between you and him. He wonât kill you. He just wants to know if your technique that surprised and caught him off guard back then still elicits the same thrill it did then.Â
You are his favorite source of entertainment after all, and itâs been far too long since heâs been amused.
Sloppy and desperate. Those are the best descriptors of your cursed energy the first time he detected it. Your sword still remains as beautiful and deadly as it was, cutting through rows of trees with ease with just the slightest bit of cursed energy embedded into your attack. It makes the phantom sensation of his vesselâs freshly ripped out heart, beat faster and his grin widens to the point of his cheeks hurting from the uncontrollable strain.
Precise and brutal. That is how he would describe your energy now. He easily feels the hatred and sudden rage that began to fuel and flare up your aura oozing out of you that only further accentuates its new characteristics. Normally, you would be swearing at him with a mouth so foul that it would make the average curse blush in embarrassment. He canât say he likes the way you silently assault him. Where is that crude vocabulary of yours?
âSenpai!â Megumi shouts for your attention as he tries to keep up with your fast paced exchange with Sukuna. âYou need to call down-â
âMegumi, donât call me your damn Senpai!â You shout in response, eyes never daring to look away from Sukuna even as you address your classmate.
âThatâs more like it!â he cheers with satisfaction. âOh, how Iâve missed your damning words beloved.â
âDonât call me that!â you shout as you swing your right arm and impulsively punch him. He easily blocks your melee, though you send him skidding back a few feet.Â
With the much needed space set between the two of you, you correct your stance to a more defensive one. Your innate technique has been actively running ever since Sukuna took over Yuujiâs body and activated his domain expansion. Your sudden bout of rage overwhelmed you after witnessing Sukuna rip Yuujiâs heart out, nearly forgetting that youâve been barred from the ability to inflict any lasting damage against him in your frenzied state.
Your inherited technique allows you to perfectly parry his âDismantleâ and âCleaveâ, but no damage will be inflicted if you purposely strike with the intention of dealing a lethal blow as you have been for the past few minutes. Your sword is blunt upon contact, evident by the lack of any lacerations upon his skin.
He may have offered the chance to heal Yuuji if you agreed to spar with him, but you know better than anyone that itâs all a bunch of lies coming out of his stolen lips. Yuuji was lost the moment Sukuna came out and set his sight on you, or rather, who he believes you to be. Youâd easily blame yourself for being the cause of his demise, but you also know that Yuuji wouldnât like it if you blame yourself over this from the afterlife.
The least you can do to make it up to him is bring his body back so it can be properly cremated. He at least deserves a proper funeral.
âAll tuckered out already?â Sukuna mockingly coos at you. âI suppose thatâs to be expected. How long has it been since our last battle? I doubt there was any curse who could live up to my strength this past millennium.â He cackles when you donât reply. Heâs right. He knows he is.
You finally break your silence with an odd comment. âYou really think Iâm them, do you?â
Though obviously rhetoric, Sukuna gives you a questioning look. âElaborate,â he commands.
âIâm not who you think I am,â you simply state. âI have the same technique as them, but I am not the one who sealed you away that fateful night. That person is my predecessor, while I am their descendant.â
You state your family name, then your first name, and wait. He willingly takes in this information, cupping his chin and looking up at the sky as he mulls it over before coming to his own conclusion. Unsurprisingly, he doesnât seem to accept it as the truth, evident by the way he slips his hands back in his pockets and cocks his head at you with a playful attitude.
âWhatever the punchline was, Iâm afraid it fell flat,â he lets out a sympathetic laugh. âYou mean to tell me that after I was sealed away, you found yourself a spouse willing to take you, a washed up whore, into their bosom and bear children with you?â
The way he shakes his head and clicks his tongue in a dismissive manner pisses you off more than watching him crush Yuujiâs heart in his bare hand. Most of the memories of your ancestor revolve around their time as one of Sukunaâs concubines. The memories you have of their life afterwards are foggy at best, but you do remember the feeling of peace as well an overwhelming amount of bliss and mutual love their spouse gave them despite their history. It was one of the happiest moments of their life and it never once faltered even after they retold their darkest memories to their children and handed down their initial will, to always oppose the king of curses, no matter the era.
People may think it cruel, selfish even, that they did not strive to develop a better technique and pass down such a heavy responsibility to their children and their childrenâs children. But if thereâs anything those hazy memories taught you, is that they do not regret the efforts that they did make to set themselves, and the others under his servitude, free from his tyranny. Had they submitted and gave into his whims, they would have never been blessed with their children and loving spouse.
Had they not done what they did, acted the way they did, you would not be here, opposing the king of curses within this new era of curses.
âI have never lied to you,â you repeat those now ancient words. âThe least you can do is give me the benefit of the doubt before dubbing me a liar.â
It happened so fast that you question if it even happened or not. His eyebrows furrowed, the exact same manner when your ancestor severed the first of his twenty fingers on that fateful night.
When he began to approach you, you sheath your blade and returned to a neutral stance, feeling safe to do so as the previous hostile energy he exuded calms. Megumi stumbles in just in time to see Sukuna and you standing nearly chest to chest. He presses his palms together in preparation to summon one of his shikigami to provide support, but he stops his incantation when he notices that neither of you are exchanging blows anymore, though the two of you do exchange unfaltering glares towards each other that puts Megumi on edge even though he is merely a spectator in this situation.
âI am not them,â you firmly state. âThis is the truth.â
Sukuna hums, dissatisfaction clear as you repeat your claim from earlier.
âIt seems you werenât lying,â he finally concedes. âSuch a shame.â
With one final shrug, the black markings all over Yuujiâs chest and limbs begin to crumble until there's nothing but his unblemished skin. The sharper features his face takes on when Sukuna takes control and taints with his sigils turn back into those belonging to the typically boisterous boy.
âHey,â his slightly raspy and confused voice greets you so genuinely.Â
âHey,â you greet him back with a relieved, yet sad smile. His eyes follow yours that seemed focused on his chest and thatâs when he finally notices the gaping hole as well as the lack of a beating heart and blood trail.
The grey clouds that have been gathering before you all were dropped off at the school finally begin to shed droplets of cold rain down on you. A drop lands perfectly on his face that looks indistinguishable to a shed tear. You instinctively reach out and wipe it away.
âIâm sorry you had to see me like this,â he pouts.Â
âItâs alright,â you withdraw your hand away from his cold and sickeningly pale cheek. âIâm sorry I couldnât save you from him.â
He took a deep breath as if he was about to say something else, but his eyes finally go blank and his upright body gives out and falls forward. You catch him with ease and carefully set him down on the damp soil. Heâs officially gone to you, yet you take extra care to cup the back of his head and gently set him down with shaking hands. As you kneel beside his stiff body, another drop falls on his face and trickles down.Â
Youâre not sure if itâs another raindrop or the first of many teardrops that begin to spill from your tear ducts once your brain finally registers that your best friend is lying dead before you.
A week later
Yuuji is dead, yet it is as clear as the large hole in his chest that Sukuna is still living on within the body, if only barely. Ieiri, Gojo and Ijichi canât tell, but you can. Call it yet another inherited skill or instinct, but no amount of pitiful words or comforting pats on your back from either of them are going to make you second guess yourself on this matter.
Sukuna is alive, yet for some reason he isnât staking his claim on the body. You know he can at any moment, but it seems heâs not entirely stupid and is trying to play his cards right.
Perhaps heâs waiting for something? Maybe a certain someone instead? It wouldnât surprise you if he has allies that are still alive and are well aware of his resurrection. It wouldnât surprise you either if they were gathering his other fingers in his stead. Those damn things are blinking beacons for other curses, so gathering them shouldnât be hard even for the most mediocre of cursed beings. Even when heâs made into a bunch of inanimate objects, he can still cause some amount of chaos and grief.
Damn him.
Your claim that Sukuna still lives goes from outlandish and desperate to undoubtedly true when a faint pulse of his energy brings everyoneâs attention to Yuujiâs corpse and puts you all on the defensive. It was a signal, specifically for you. He wants you to come to him, within his own playing field and without the prying eyes of your superiors or the chance for any outside interference from your teacher.
Speaking of Gojo, heâs been trying to pull you away from Yuujiâs corpse and usher you out of the room for your own protection.
âHe wants to talk to me,â you state the obvious to him.
âYeah, thatâs not happening,â he says with finality. Itâs almost adorable how heâs trying to play the role of the stern authority figure when heâs normally such an eccentric man 99% of the time. âCâmon, you need to leave.â
âGojo-sensei,â you reach up to your shoulder that heâs tightly gripping and gently pry his hand off. âI mean no disrespect to you, or anyone at this school for that matter. But when it comes to matters regarding Ryomen Sukuna, you and the higher ups donât know a damn thing about that monster.â
Your hand hastily reaches out and your fingertips merely graze against Yuujiâs cold and rigid skin. Just that slight contact is enough to have your surroundings shift from a stagnant and grey autopsy room to a dark and brooding domain. You blink away the dizziness from your sudden shift of reality and the first thing you notice is the pile of ox skulls. You also notice the endless rows of ribs high up in the air that further add towards the domainâs ominousness.
âIâm here!â you cup your hands around your mouth as you yell out. âThe hell do you want from me you two-faced bastard?!â
âQuit screaming,â his annoyed yet strangely soft voice startles you. You abruptly turn around to meet him face to face.
âWhereâs Yuuji?â you ask with command behind your infliction.
âThereâs no one else but us,â he says in a poor attempt to make you drop your defensive body posture. When he notices that you arenât relaxing, he points behind you with an annoyed glare. You turn to see nothing but the collection of dirtied animal skulls, but at the last second you see an unconscious Yuuji planted face down into the ankle deep water (blood?) at the bottom of the mountainous pile. Upon seeing the familiar tuft of pink hair, you sprint towards his unmoving body. You flip him upwards once heâs in reach, fearing he was drowning or at the very least injured in some way.
As you try to gently coax or check for any sign of life within your friend, you ignore or even fail to notice the way Sukuna observes you from behind. The boy is unconscious only due to Sukuna easily decapitating him earlier as they fought over the conditions of the binding vow he was enforcing in exchange for healing his vesselâs body and bringing him back to life. Just as he was about to uphold his end of the vow, he felt as you entered the room his vesselâs lifeless body was most definitely being stored to be later cremated.Â
His reaching out to you was an impulsive action on his part. He now knows that the one who stands before him is truly not you. Your energy and your descendants are near indistinguishable, so his sudden call of you was a mere force of habit and his prevailing desire to chase after you. Itâs not his brightest moment, but you tend to make him act beyond what is usually his typical behavior.Â
As he watches your descendant talk to a half awake and delirious Yuuji, he canât help but to examine them with a bit of awe. The one before him is your descendant of a thousand years, perhaps even more. They are your flesh and blood, and yet they retain not only your image, but even some of your memories as well. He doesnât know what to think of this revelation, truly he doesnât.
The only thing thatâs rubbing him the wrong way is the fact that they are not a product between you and him. Itâs not that he has or had any sort of unfulfilled paternal desire locked deep within him. Even if he did contemplate producing a few offspring before his temporary demise, he only wanted children for the same reason he wanted a harem, as a source of amusement that he can freely manipulate however he sees fit. Perhaps he did consider impregnating a few dozen of his concubines to see if any could birth him an heir worthy of his legacy, but the entire process was too much of a hassle that he wasnât willing to deal with at the time. He had no pure intentions when it comes to spreading his seed into the world.
So why is he angry that you went ahead and did so without him?
âYour ancestorâs spouse,â he idly mentions in an attempt to garner their careful attention. From the way they stiffen up and look at him with that familiar glare of yours, he has it. âWhat were they like?â
âAs if Iâd tell you,â they say.
âI see you inherited their stubbornness,â he huffs with annoyance, but deep down in the deepest and most hidden parts of his mind, he feels somewhat glad that your stubbornness continues to live on in the world. âTell me, and Iâll let you return with Yuuji-â
âTheir spouse was just as stubborn as they were,â they cut him off with an immediate answer. âNo matter how many times they tried to ignore or downplay their advances, they continued to chase after my predecessor until it was as obvious as the sun that they truly wanted to be together with them and make them happy.â
As he expected, their recollection of your life after him is too disgustingly domestic and romanticized for his liking. What does come at a surprise is that they completely went against their earlier proclamation of remaining silent and divulged him on the information he initially asked of you rather readily. Something must have switched in their mind. Are they trying to get back at him on your behalf by proudly stating that you lived a happy life without him?
âThatâs exactly what Iâm doing,â they say with a smug voice. âThey hated you beyond comprehension, and even if they are long gone from this world, I assure you that their hatred remains just as intense as it was when they lived.â
âDonât be mistaken, you pathetic human,â he growls, much more angrily than normal. âI could care less who they fornicated with and how many children they produced.â
âFor the self proclaimed king of curses, you sure are a terrible liar,â they say, almost pitifully. âYou regret the way you treated them, donât you? Deny it all you want, I know Iâm right.â
Your last comment is the final straw. With the flick of his wrist he casts you and Yuuji out of his inner domain and back into the living world. He heals Yuuji to maintain his side of the binding vow before settling back atop his rigid throne of horned skulls. He watches through Yuujiâs eyes how the two of you squeeze each other into a firm embrace after he reawakens. When Gojo makes a comment about how Yuuji is stark naked on the metal table, he feels the immense urge to grab one of the skulls and crush it into a fine dust in his bare fist as the two of you devolve into a fit of awkward but good natured laughter at the realization.
He canât remember a time when you ever laughed or smiled like your descendant is doing now.
Does he regret never once seeing or hearing you in such a way? Maybe.
But youâre gone, so there is no point lingering on it too much.
Thereâs no point in having regrets now.
Bonus
Sukuna knew it was only a matter of time before you and Yuuji solidified your relationship as a romantic one. Back in his prime, he behaved no differently than Yuuji did after he brought him back to life, straightforward and without a second thought. Ever since he stole you away from your family and home, every chance you took at defying him and damning his name into the fiery pits of hell invoked something within him. Something no other man or woman can or ever will be able to. And yet, each time he reached out to indulge himself further of you, you retreated into yourself and tried to cast him out of every corner of your mind while he tried to engrave your everything into his very being. Your behavior to his advances differ greatly from your descendant, who accepts Yuujiâs advances with an honest and willing smile.
He watches the relationship through the unsuspecting eyes of his vessel. Sometimes, he gags at how sickeningly affectionate Yuuji can be. Yet despite his behavior, your descendant drinks it all up and returns the hugs and the kisses tenfold. Nobara and Megumi often roll their eyes on the sidelines and comment on how they were practically made for each other. Sukuna can't help but silently roll his eyes as well as agree with their annoyed comments, even if it makes him incredibly irritated.Â
Will he ever admit to the latter? Never.
He does not regret the way things turned out between you and him. He cannot regret for the sake of his sanity. Instead, he often ponders about the possibilities. Had he not taken you from your home, could there have been a chance you and him could have been friends despite his reputation at the time? If he courted you properly instead of forcing you into his collection of common whores, could you look at him the same way your descendant looks at Yuuji, with so much love and tenderness that it makes his stomach twist into knots and the back of his throat burn? Despite being a curse who sustains himself on his pure carnal desires, could he have been selfless and put forth the efforts to make you happy?
During nights when they share a bed together, he sneaks control over the body and traces what was once your face with his black painted claws. Could you ever look so peaceful as your descendant does now if you laid beside him? Would you remain in his bed until the sun rises instead of fleeing? Would your body feel just as warm, fit just as perfectly in his embrace as your descendant does?
Sukuna does not regret the path he took. He cannot, for the sake of his sanity. He does wonder about the possibilities.
He wonders, could this descendant of yours have been his as well?
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujustu kaisen spoilers#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#gojo satoru#megumi fushiguro#kugisaki nobara#no regrets oneshot#writing
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Cherik angst!
Ooooh the angst!! The cherik fandom has an abundance of angst fics and I could probably make a list of hundred fics to recommend, but these are some of my favourite angsty cherik fics. I should warn you though, some of these require tissues.
Cherik Angst
Everyday Love in Stockholm â tahariel
Summary: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world.
His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he's kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life's work and happiness.
Bodenâs Mate â kaydeefalls
Summary: "Shaw has information that we need, and we need him alive to extract it," Moira says, and there it is: the job is on the table. Extraction.
XMFC/Inception fusion AU. Erik is an extractor, Alex is his point man. They're assembling a team to go after the most dangerous mind in dreamsharing: Sebastian Shaw. But unless Alex and the team can keep him in check, Erik's desire for vengeance might just rip the whole job apart around them -- and then there's the shade that haunts his dreams...
Ritual Self-Torture â TurtleTotem
Summary: Shaw is King, Charles is his royal consort and Erik is a Knight/Lord. Shaw is sterile but his kingdom can't find out, so he asks Erik to impregnate Charles.
He doesn't know Erik and Charles are in love.
The Winter of Banked Fires â Yahtzee
Summary: Charles Xavier has returned from the dead -- but is lost within his own mind. Rogue has cast aside her own power and doesn't know where she fits in the world any longer. The production of synthetic Cure means mutantkind itself is newly at risk. And Magneto, turned human against his will, is in despair until the day he feels a familiar consciousness tugging at his own
Us â Pangea
Summary: âCharles,â Erik says, and if his voice hits a pleading note then who can really blame him, âCharles, itâs me.â
It takes several longer moments before Charles musters up the strength to answer, breath stuttering horribly as he tries to breathe. Heâs shaking, entire body trembling.
âErik,â Charles says, his voice cracking, âErik, I want to die.â
Enigma â Yahtzee
Summary: Erik dies, or finds a reversey-time mutant, or a magical time travelling device, and wakes up in the past. This time, though, it's before he ever met Charles - in fact, it's before his mother died.
He can save his mother that one time (thanks to his mastery over powers carrying back), but what does Erik do after that? Does he stick around, or escape and run to find Charles again (and hope everything doesn't go wrong)?
By Faint Indirections â kianspo
Summary: Erik is in his ~50s, and lonely and bitter. He survived the Holocaust and was only ~14 when the war ended; and even ~40 years later, living in a country that helped to end WW2 and the Third Reich, homosexuality is still a taboo topic. Then one day, he stumbles over Charles, who is young(early 20s) and bright and smart and cheeky and full of energy and beautiful. And moving in the same street where Erik lives.
Lonesome on the Shelf â ikeracity
Summary: After three years of marriage, Charles has to admit that his relationship with Erik has significantly cooled off. These days, they're barely ever home at the same time and it seems like every conversation they have turns into an argument. Charles misses the way they used to be, misses the spontaneous dinner parties and the surprise morning sex and the wake up calls in the early mornings to catch the sunrise. But it's going to take two of them to fix this marriage, and some days, it seems as if all Erik wants is to be rid of him.
A fic about rekindling marriage.
When the Spell Breaks â kianspo
Summary: Erik, a high-profile lawyer with a successful career, meets a 21-year-old grad student in a bar, and within a few short months marries him. He and Charles are blissfully happy, until Erik's boss runs a background check on Charles and discovers he's been cheating on Erik. Charles denies everything, as there was no affair, but Erik doesn't believe him and throws him out. As Charles tries to figure out how to survive and stay at school that he can no longer afford and makes a lot of bad if not plain dangerous choices, Erik has to fight his own battle of discovering the truth and winning Charles back.
The Tower and the Hurricane â dreamlittleyo
Summary:(Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?
The Attempt â Yahtzee
Summary: Charles knows everything about Erik, knows how obsessive and self-destructive he is, how Erik would do anything, give anything, in his quest for vengeance against Shaw. But he also knows that Erik loves him in ways that aren't exactly platonic.
I'd like to see a completely straight!Charles, out of pure love and care of Erik, initiate a romantic relationship with him. It can be because he wishes to give Erik something positive in his life or because he thinks it might help change Erik's mind about Shaw, the reason is up to author. Also, while Charles finds intimacy with Erik strange and awkward, he does enjoy the new, non-romantic layers that have developed in their relationship.
Apple Seeds â pprfaith
Summary: Charles, Erik, apple seeds and Shakespearean love affairs.
Ashes, Ashes â winterhill
Summary: Post-apocalyptic AU â When the bombs fall, and mutually assured destruction occurs, it turns out that Shaw was right and radiation does enhance mutant powers. Snapshots of the XMFC main ensemble in the time after the bombs: Erik decides to stay, Moira thinks she might be the only human left, Raven is having trouble sleeping, and Charles is losing his mind.
Warnings: nuclear holocaust: death (death in general, not a specific character), cancer, burns, medical procedure, mutant powers gone awry
Five Bullet Points â Sperare
Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.
Charles was never supposed to be there with him.
Tequila on a spaceship â faerie_ground
Summary: In 2014, Charles Xavier gets brutally murdered and Erik Lehnsherr spends the rest of his life mourning his death.
In 3014, Captain Lehnsherr and CMO Dr Xavier are colleagues, best friends and maybe a little more besides that aboard the Magneto I.
The Tower and the Hurricane â dreamlittleyo
Summary: Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?
Simple and Uncomplicated â Pookaseraph
Summary: Erik and Charles had been fuck buddies for some, but when Charles is in an accident he figured their relationship would be over. Erik's visit to his bedside in the hospital changes his assumptions even as he has trouble believing Erik is sincere.
Lazarus â ClocksÂ
Summary: Erik is 19 when he says âI love youâ for the first time.
It would take five long years before Charles says it back.
Broken Eternity â CractasticDispatches
Sumnmary: It starts with being alone. It shouldnât, perhaps, but it does because, of course, alone is what no one ever wishes to be.
Shout it Out Loud â dreamlittleyo
Summary: (Movie-Concurrent AU.) When Charles forges a telepathic link between himself and Erik, the two men find themselves bound together by more than just destiny. With the world on the brink of war, Charles and Erik struggle to cope with a psychic connection that may well be permanent.
Call Me By His Name â sinuous_curve
Summary: Charles wakes from the absence of noise.
There is an empty space in his room, beside his bed. Not quiet as in an abandoned room, but utterly, featurelessly blank. Like a box made of unblemished, impenetrable metal and Charles knows before he opens his eyes.
The Longest Word â septicwheelbarrow
Summary: "I'm Charles Xavier," he says, smiling from ear to ear. Then he gestures to his wheelchair. "Terminal spinal osteoblastoma, reaper due to collect in a year."
After some time, the man gestures at himself with a sardonic smile. "Same, one year. Lung." And then, reluctant, as if trying to keep his name to himself, "Erik."
I reject your reality and substitute my own. Doesn't really work that way, both ways.
Copy â chantefable
Summary: Charles wakes up without his memory. His sole caretaker, Erik, claims to be his husband, and tells him he's recovering from a car accident on their honeymoon.
Slowly falling for Erik again, Charles begins to regain his memories. He starts to notice strange things about his body, Erik, and their secluded mansion.
Myosotis â SomeCoolName
Summary: When Charles got back from Cuba, he lost the two things which made him stand: his legs and the love of his life, Erik Lehnsherr. Charles can get used to the wheelchair but he won't ever be able to get pass the loss of Erik.
"I wish I never met him" is something Charles says one night, maybe a bit drunk, absolutely wrecked for sure. It's a bit silly but Charles figures out his only solution is to use his own powers to erase Erik from his mind, progressively.
Except one day Erik comes back to the Xavier mansion to win him back. And even if Charles doesn't want to stop forgetting about him, Erik will do anything he can to convince him otherwise.
Das Haus am See â sareyen
Summary: The Lake House AU:
Erik is an estate planning lawyer who takes some time off to get away from the big city after his marriage fell apart. He lives in a picturesque lake house by Chautauqua Lake for almost two years, before moving back to New York City. This is in 2019.
Charles is a famous but very private author stuck in a creative rut, and moves to his lakeside estate for a short while to try and find a reason to write again. This is in 2017.
By magic or fate, Charles and Erik discover that the letter box at the lake house has the ability to send letters through time, between Charles in 2017 and Erik in 2019. Through letters that transcend the barriers of time, Charles and Erik fall in love. Charles vows to find Erik two years in his future, and Erik promises to wait for him. Two years - just two, meagre years.
But, fate is fickle, and time waits for no one.
Appropriate Boundaries â YahtzeeÂ
Summary: Charles has been having serious problems with back cramps in the year and a half since he's been in a wheelchair. His doctor prescribes massage therapy. But when Charles meets his masseur, Erik, in some ways they begin to heal each other. So how do you cross the boundaries between professional touch -- and the personal?
Unbound â Cesare, helens78
Summary: Thousands of miles apart, Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier form a soulbond. But when that bond is severed five years later, they have to spend the next ten years trying to rebuild their lives alone.
Do You Love Me â cgf_kat
Summary: Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.
A Quiet Riot â cloudstroke (aQuired)
Summary: Erik can't stand the fact that his father has brought home a boy less than half his age.
But mostly because he's madly in love with Charles Xavier himself.
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Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language/brief nudity Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering... could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique "soul mark", which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader is gender neutral, but at some points will be described as leaning towards being feminine (due to personal interpretation of Alcina's character). Additionally, Lady D will eventually be referred to by her first name, so don't worry if you feel weird about her being called by her full title all the time, it's just for this chap, when the reader isn't familiar with her. Lastly, this contains a bit of one sided Alcina/Miranda, which serves as a plot point, but is (clearly) not the primary ship.
1: In The Shadow Of Giants
Three months, two weeks, and one day. Thatâs how long youâve been at this accursed castle, serving cruel mistresses, having been plucked from your peaceful life in the village. Anger stains your every thought, slowly festering inside your chest. There is no cure, at least not without a fatal price, but there are mild remedies. âTis not long before the other servants learn to give you the more physically demanding chores. Nothing numbs your mind quite the same way that chopping firewood does, though you often settle for hard scrubbing age-old tile. Every day ends with your muscles crying from the effort of it all. Every day⊠except today. Another servant, from the night shift, has been wounded severely, and her job was deemed too important to be foregone.
And, as such, she has been replaced. By you. For once, you turn in early, long before your clothes can become stained with sweat. Yet you arenât happy, not when you know that this change will ruin your sleep for weeks to come. Even worse, itâll be impossible to avoid your âemployersâ, whereas working the day shift meant almost never seeing them. So far, you have only seen them on four or five occasions. Hell, youâve only met two of them, being Cassandra and Bela. Based on what others told you, the other two werenât much (if at all) better. As you try your best to get some rest, only a single âpositiveâ thought runs through your head: Well, worst comes to worst, Iâll get killed, then I wonât have to worry about anything anymore.
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âRemember: No talking unless youâre asked a question. The Mistress has had a rough morning, and this is her best chance at relaxing,â Juniper explains, for what seems like the eighth time since the two of you met. Thereâs a nervous energy around her, which does little to ease your own anxieties. If you heard correctly, sheâs only been at the castle for a couple weeks, having previously worked for Mother Miranda. Youâre not sure what would have caused the transfer, considering most who were âfiredâ ended up dead. Something told you that it had to do with antsy nature. âOh, and donât leave unless dismissed, even once your part is done. We all need to be ready, in case Mistress- I mean, Lady Dimitrescu needs something. Sorry, Iâm still getting used to how things work here.â
âAs long as you donât slip up in front of her and get us both killed, I donât really care,â you replied, giving Juniper a level stare. Clearly unsure how to respond, she pauses for a moment, mouth opening then closing without a sound. Once sheâs seemingly composed herself, you give a short nod and push open the door to the bathroom. Two other servants are already inside, and they flinch at your arrival, briefly mistaking you for their boss. âI can hardly believe they made me change shifts for this,â you add, under your breath, rolling your eyes. What was so important about making sure a few candles stayed lit? During bathtime? Maybe it was something you had to be a giant, vampiric noblewoman to understand. Regardless of your annoyance, you quickly get to work, striking the first of a couple matches. Itâs a rather dull task. To think you would have preferred heavy labor to this.
Before long, the last flame springs to life, and Juniper dims the lights, allowing the candles to become the focus. At least one is scented, though you cannot place the specific kind. Less than a minute after the last one is lit, the door once again swings open, revealing your most elusive employer. Sheâs⊠more than you anticipated. In every conceivable way, truthfully. Taller, more graceful (even as she has to duck through the entrance), and, as much as you hate to think so, far, far more beautiful. If not for the warm lighting of the room, you would have worried about someone seeing your blush. Certainly I am not the first to react this way, you think, as you bow alongside the others.
âYes, yes, get on with it,â Lady Dimitrescu says, with a sharp frown. Then she moves closer to the tub, which you imagine could fit half a dozen ânormalâ people, and holds out her arms to her side. For a moment youâre confused, but you instinctively mimic the motions of the other maidens. Together the four of you reach for her robe, gently taking hold of it while she steps into the bath, before hanging it onto a nearby hook. A second later your entire world is turned upside down. Youâre freezing in place, eyes wide, as the bare back of Lady Dimitrescu reveals itself to you. Yet this is not an instance of poorly veiled lust. No, it is equal parts horror and repulsion, for you find yourself staring at a distinctive soul marking.
One that matches your own.
Beside you, Juniper watches you with concern, silently urging you to stay silent. Neither of the other two servants seem to react, other than by taking a small step backwards. Unable to speak, let alone form coherent thoughts, all you can do is point a trembling finger towards the soul mark. Itâs right in between Lady Dimitrescuâs shoulder blades. Once upon a time, you had marveled at the design, smiling every time you saw it in the mirror. Now, it might as well be the ugliest thing youâve ever seen. Based on her expression, Juniper seems to agree, although for different reasons. As your hand drops back to your side, you try to compose yourself enough to focus on the task before you. Instead, someone breaks the quiet, boldly, daring to think that they would be rewarded for it.
âMy Lady,â a servant says, stepping forward, shooting you a waywards glance. Instantly she has your employerâs attention, though that comes with the metallic sssssslk of her claws extending. Thereâs an unspoken threat that demands respect. None comes, however, just the frenzied words of a panicked maiden. âI know who your soulmate is, my Lady. I thought that perhaps youâd-â
âA name. Give me⊠a name,â Lady Dimitrescu interjects, claws still out and impatiently tapping on the tile floor. Tense, you start to step forward, wanting desperately to silence the treacherous maiden. But her tongue is faster than your fist, and soon enough your name is echoing through the room. âOh? The one right behind me, hmm? Dreadfully convenient, really. Step forward, dear, and let me see the proof. Assuming it exists.â All eyes other than hers are on you, now. With a deep breath, you begrudgingly step in front of Lady Dimitrescu, trying not to even briefly glance at her chest (or worse, lower). One of her hands shifts, a long claw tilting your chin up. âWell?â
âForgive the placement,â you mutter, awkwardly grabbing your shirt collar, tugging it down to reveal your soul mark, planted neatly on the center of your chest. If Lady Dimitrescuâs gaze wanders, it does so too quickly to be noticed, though she does make a low humming noise at the sight. Feeling much like a piece of meat on display at the butcherâs, you scowl deeply. Soon enough, but not as soon as youâd like, the claw under your chin retracts, and you once more cover up your soul mark. You canât bring yourself to look your soulmate in the eyes.
âHmm. Not what I expected. Not at all,â she muses, more to herself than to you, softly. Behind her, Juniper is sending you a sympathetic expression. All you can do, as Lady Dimitrescu judges you, is glare at the origin of this revelation. What did she think to gain by speaking up? Hadnât she heard the same rumors that you had? Didnât she know that your employer already loved another, even if that affection was unrequited? There was, simply put, no chance that you were the preferable option. Not when there was no race against neither time nor death. At best, you could be a distraction. Something to keep her mind off of the person sheâd rather be with. âGo clean up, get some sustenance if you must, then go to my quarters. We will discuss this further there- after I am done here.â
With that said, she waves you off, letting you relax for the first time in several minutes. After giving a short bow, you immediately move to leave. On your way, you intentionally bump shoulders with the maiden who spoke up, sending her a glare, then give Juniper a nod of acknowledgement. Nervous wreck or not, she was the only person you âknewâ on the night shift. Not that such a thing would even matter soon. To think that weâve been soulmates this whole time, you think, living in the same castle for months, never seeing each other. I wish things could have stayed that way. At least youâd have some time to process your developing situation. Though you doubted youâd have enough time.
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In an unusual change of pace, Alcina dismisses the rest of her servants, long before her bath is done. They exchange glances before scattering to the winds. A heavy sigh leaves her lips, and she sinks lower into the tub. Of course I have a soulmate, she thinks, bitterly. I knew this. Knew that it wasnât her, and yet still, I find myself surprised. Disappointed, even. How had an already rough evening gotten even worse? More than that, what was she supposed to do about it? There was a part of her that wanted to kill her soulmate. She figured that, with them out of the way, the universe might finally understand who she was meant to be with. After all, it wasnât uncommon for âwidowsâ to be given a new match, and those were generally other âwidowsâ. Considering that Alcina knew for a fact that Mother Mirandaâs soulmate had long since died, she did not think that her hopes were beyond possibility.
But there was another part of her, quieter, that dared to be more realistic. If the universe said that this human, this tiny thing, was her soulmate⊠would it not make sense to at least try? What harm could it do, when her current love had been unrequited for so long? Was this not the end to several decades of loneliness? Damn it, she thinks, gripping the edge of the bathtub until her knuckles turned white. There was no denying it, now that a single drop of rational thought had corrupted her mind. Fuck it all, I hardly have a choice. Or anything to lose, for that matter. With her decision made, she rises to her feet, emotionally ready to face the unknown.
---------------------------
âAh, so you do follow directions, after all. I half expected to learn that you had attempted to flee, or perhaps had a gruesome run in with one of my daughters,â Lady Dimitrescu chimes, as she ducks into her room. Inside, standing at attention, you await. All of your earlier nervousness returns, though this time it is tinged with your natural rage. Of all the monsters in the world, this was the one you were expected to love. It mattered not how tall she was, or how sharp her nails could be, or how fierce her loyalty to Mother Miranda. To you, it mattered that you had no choice in being here, that only a handful of servants had come to the castle willingly. It mattered that a single mistake could mean a cruel death. So you did not greet your soulmate with a smile, or excitement, rather with a forced bow and blank expression. Better to be dead than to fake true love. âCome now, do at least pretend that you are excited, for my sake. I have been waiting a century for this, after all.â
âPerhaps the universe found it difficult to find someone who could love you,â you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth, instant regret boiling up inside of you. What you expect is a swift death. What you get? A deep sigh, a scowl, a look of frustration. Still fearing your possible demise, you are quick to keep speaking. âOr maybe the universe heard me talk once, and struggled to find someone to tolerate me. Countless possibilities, a galaxy full of mysteries⊠and here we are. Forgive me for being crass, my Lady. I would blame it on my schedule change, but something tells me you would see right through that lie, yes?â Not like that was much better, you think, wondering how the hell you were going to survive this.
âYouâre quite the character, arenât you?... Do try not to make me regret this, Iâd rather not kill my soulmate. Now, sit down, itâs about time for a proper introduction,â Lady Dimitrescu commands. Then sheâs sitting on the edge of her bed, gently patting the spot next to her. Joining her is just about the last thing you want to do right now⊠but you obey nonetheless. Still, you angle yourself away from her ever so slightly, hoping the subtle body language would help you distance yourself from her. Thereâs something in her expression that tells you she knows exactly what youâre trying to do. âI am Lady Dimitrescu, though you already know that. You may call me Alcina⊠for now. Behave, or that is one of many privileges I will not hesitate to take from you. Understood?â
It takes all of your willpower to avoid rolling your eyes, but you manage, instead giving a short nod. Thisâll be interesting, for sure.
#lady dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#resident evil: village#re8 village#love this lady<3
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Playing tricks with the trickster
Summary: Failed escape attempt from yandere Childe. He lets you play your cards, even playing along, just for his own amusement.
Notes: My first genshin piece yay... I had a sweet and terrible dream of me running from Childe in the woods. Also some inspiration was drawn from @cinnamonestâs this post, one big virtual hug to her! I hope I did Childe justice, what can I say I love manipulative smiling boys. It has become a pattern as I dash from one fandom to another. This is had turned out to be longer then I expected...Ginger boy demands my time and energy too much omg. Mind the warnings, although there is nothing extreme in this.
Fun fact, I was looping to Nintendo game by Alessia Cara when writing this down. I believe it fits the theme of this fic quite well.
Tagging: @akutaguagua a great friend who patiently beta-read this mess of a horror dream and gave me lots of kind praises!Â
(Offical art belongs to miHoYo! This is a cover page of this video, if there is any issues, contact me and I will remove it at once)
Warnings:Â Implied past abduction,dub-con touching, mild degradation, drugging(not on reader), implied non-con/dub-con at the end, this is not healthy love and I do not condone this irl.
It has been nearly a month since the youngest Fatui Harbinger had âtaken you inâ. After a few tries, you were too horrified by the punishments to continuously fight him. You learned on the first day that Childeâs smiling, the friendly mask would come off towards you. Your behaviour would decide if that is a curse or a âblessingâ.
So you had quieted down, struggling to restrain yourself from yelling or screaming, carefully not to provoke his anger. Despite being compliant to his orders, you never truly showed him any affection either. Sure, you would sit on his lap if he asked, but you never initiated anything intimate with him. No matter how much Tartaglia spoiled you with clothes, books, jewelry or other luxuries, he is still the one who holds the commanding end of your shackles. Itâs the best not to get used to all of that when your sight is set on the door.
Although he has taken your freedom away, you are not kept in a windowless room. On the contrary, you have too many outings now. Wherever he goes, you have to be present in a 2m radius, including meetings. Being a Harbinger is no easy job, so he prefers not having to worry about your safetly during buisness hours. The best way to do that is never let you out of his sight.
âLove, no one should witness our little problems. Well, no one alive that is.â Of course you wouldnât want to put innocent people's lives at stake. You never dared to act out when you two are in public, and no one would bat an eye if a Fatui had taken a lover.Â
You had taken an emotionless approach towards him. If Childe wants a kiss on the cheek, youâll give him a quick light peck. If he wants breakfast, youâll go make some pancakes with the topping he likes. Luckily, Childe had not done anything too extreme yet. If cuddling to sleep does not count as extreme that is. The only time you slipped up is when he suddenly hugs you from behind when youâre cooking. Â
You thought maybe, just maybe, by being as boring and dull as you could, this bastard might just get tired of you and let you go. Childe only loves the fun of it right? Or maybe it could lower his guard.
Oh, how naive you are. You should have known better than to underestimate a Fatui harbinger. See, this is exactly why he needs to keep you around. Yes, unfortunately for you, Childe loves you, so very much. Speaking to him with a monotone voice isnât going to alter that fact.
You have been devoid of emotions as of late. While Childe does appreciate fewer screams for the sake of his eardrums, this schemer can sense you are up to something. Perhaps this is the peace before your âstormâ(he thought of it more like a drizzle)
You want to play a game? Okay, why not? Childe cannot wait to see what tricks you got on those sleeves. Are you ever getting away? Does an amateur ever win when they play a game with a professional trickster? Never.
Still, nothing bites like a cornered rat. You are no airhead, and he is fully aware of that. Just not as cunning and observent as him, thatâs all.
The way you just kept your emotions sealed up is impressive, even to someone like him. Even when he got hansy, you did not flinch and just stared at the corner. Childe can only catch faint glimpses of anger when you thought he wasnât looking.
Hm, when are you pulling your trigger? Tonight, or tomorrow night? Not that Childe is impatient, anything from you is worth waiting. But he would need to dismiss his patrolling underlings in the nearby woods beforehand. No extras would be allowed to disturb this game.
There is no chance during the day, a somewhat mutual understanding for you two. Night time in comparison, is a different story.Â
Anyoneâs sleeping hours is their most vulnerable time of the day, Childe is no exception. You do not plan to harm him, not that you donât want to. But you are willing to swallow the pent up frustration towards him if you would never see his face again after this. Maybe beating up some slimes would help with the release?
You somehow managed to slip a mixture of herbs into his tea. Since he would buy cooking ingredients for you from time to time, you had requested a bunch of herbs along with the ingredients of a sleep inducing medicine you remembered. Although Childe does all he can to keep you near him, there are inevitable hours that he needs to be somewhere without you. He cannot jeopardize your safety with troublesome monsters. On a side note, he loves showing you off to anyone, his colleagues, acquaintances, business partners, anyone he does not deem a threat.
Enough time for you to make those herbs into powder and cover it up with a few spoons of milk. Tea with milk has become quite popular in Liyue as of late. Childe has grown to love them, so you have learned how to mix it up. He always let you handle his food and drinks, saying that he âtrusts youâ. What you do not know is this is one of the openings he exposed on purpose. Itâs not like you can aquire anything deadly under his suffocating supervision.
Your plan will work, or so you think. Childe will not wake up when you wiggle out of his grasp, because dreamland will keep him occupied. All you need is a glider and a usable sword from Liyue and youâll get your life back. Bottling up extreme emotions has certainly taken a toll on your mind, but it will be worth it if that is the prerequisite of being free.
Something about this being so easy sits ill with you. Have you really been with the youngest Fatui Harbinger this whole time? But that was brushed off your shoulders by the sheer excitement of regaining your long lost freedom. You know Liyue is in walking distance, all you need to do is cross these woods and-
The moment you dive into the forest, you think you heard an amused chuckle.Â
That smooth voice terrifies you to no end, the same voice you took orders from for the past month.
Oh, how Childe loves seeing you happy. Itâs priceless, both literally and figuratively. No matter how many things he buys you, you had not shown him even one small smile. Enjoy your sweet freedom, because it ainât going to last. You certainly will know your place after this right? If not you are just dumber then he give you credit for.
That glow of relief in your eyes is worth every last bit of this intense dizzying feeling to Childe. To make sure your plan go through, he had drunk the tea without hesitation, quick enough to catch the momentarily excitement you expressed. He knows the game is on, therefore he had given the night patrol guards the entire evening off. Forcing himself to stay concious by digging his nails into his palms, Childe followed you into the woods.
Your potion is quite strong. Excellent, youâll have to give him the recipe for informational purposes later. Especially how you managed to achieve such effects with a few herbs you had. He never took you to be anything less than a smart girl, but this has exceeded his expectations. Whereâs the fun in a game without challenges?
How you storm through the forest wearing that cute terrified expression looks so endearing, itâs surely not his fault if he wants to enjoy this sight to be longer right.
So, each time you feel the slightest at ease due to whatever reason, expect Childe to make some sound to send you running like your life depends on it again. The sadistic man is hunting you down playfully, like a cat chasing a stray mouse to the inevitable corner.
You know he is toying with you. There is nothing you can do to make him shut up though.
âLove, you had scratched your leg. Must hurts by the looks of it.â
âLiyue is that way, you know.â
âAre you tired? If you want to jog in the middle of the night, you should have called me to come along!â
How can he say those things nonchalantly while you are trying to escape from him? Â Here he is, daunting you with that signature smile he wears so very often. That is when reality slaps you right in the face. No matter how hard you plan, no matter how fast you run, there is no getting rid of him.
When your stamina runs out, a simple pull and push on your left wrist is enough to let you fall onto the ground panting. Even now, you still refuse to beg for mercy. You would take the cold grounds to the warmth of Childeâs embrace anyday.Â
âAw, burnt out already? Pathetic. Looks like we need to work on your stamina more. But this is not the place for exercise.â
âLook at me.â His slender but forceful fingers tilt your head up, making you look into those ocean blue orbs. There is anger present in his eyes, but those emotions are more a mixture of delight and that. His smile had also been replaced by a mocking smirk. âYou, trying to leave me? Your sense of humor is...well, letâs just call it unique. Lucky for you, you amused me nonetheless.â
âI know what youâre thinking. How Iâm a selfish jerk and you hate me. Why be so ungrateful? You get to live in luxury thanks to me, you know. I am selfish, yes, but look how stupid you are. I know you added something extra in my evening tea, my beloved.â
âCome now, we are going to do some exercises suited for a night like this once weâre back home. It is our one month milestone, after all. You had already given me your gift, it is only fair for you that I do the same.â
Childe is not making a sarcastic remark. The thrill of that chase was the best fun he had in months. And you are going to love his gift too, maybe not right away, but surely sometimes after.Â
You have to mentally prepare yourself for the worst as he dragged you back to the prison, hopefully youâll still be able to walk properly after whatever Childe got in store.
#yandere#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere childe x reader#yandere childe#yandere tartaglia#this is a dream fleshed out into a fic#i am not sorry
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This ending .... I can name 500 reasons and I will name them right now, because I donât think Iâm the only one who is upset with how things turned out. (Also, A positive message for all of you at the end)
MAJOR LEAKS SPOILERS/ READ WITH CAUTION
Update: after reading more theories from fellow RM bloggers, and sleeping over it one day, this entire chapter might be an april fools... Don't fully lose hope yet beautiful people. It's me just giving a review on a possible fake April fools chapter
After following this franchise since 2013, so nearly a DECADE. this ending is a pure disserve to the entire fandom. I feel like Yams has rushed it just for the sake of being done with the entire manga. So many things are left open, characters and their developemt are reverted back all the way to chapter 1 or are left even worse than that...
Mikasaâs worthless character development/ Aaronmikaâs horrible toxic codependent relationshipÂ
Oh honey... Letâs start with how horrible Isayama has treated her. We were all rooting for her, because we all felt like she was so misunderstood. She had a horrible childhood and imprinted on a guy who treated her like trash 99 percent of the story. And then, slowly but surely, she starts to realize she has to stop obsessing over him in the uprising arc with the help of a real man who treats her like a queen, more importantly, he treats her like a real human being. This man sees her for her abilities and that she has the power to be self dependent. She learned parts of herself, that she was able to work together with him like no one else could. She learned parts of herself she was unable to do so if she kept obsessing about Aaron. All this love, care, mutual understanding and RESPECT these two shared.Â
but...NAH FUCK THAT, right Yams?? Throw all this development away, all this bonding. Letâs make the main female lead even more yandere than she already was in the first season. Let her make out with his decapacitated head (like dude, this is also pure disrespect to Aaronâs dead body btw) and let her obsess even more about the guy who has treated her no better than a piece of toilet cloth 99 percent of the time. The guy who was never really appreciative in front of her for saving his ass billions of times, who always pushed her away, who yells at her and snaps at her whenever he can instead of reasoning and talking calmly with her in mature way. (EVEN PARODY YOUTUBE CHANNELS WHO DONT SHIP ANYTHING MAKE IT A TROPE WHERE AARON TELLS MIKASA HE HATES HER GUTS WHENEVER HE CAN)Â
Then after all that, suddenly Yams tries to last minute persuade us Aaronâs always been head over heels for her??? He should have build their relationship better which he hasnât even tried to do so... He must be thinking his fans are stupid for eating this from his hands.  Â
Like seriously??? What is this???Â
Isayama is just fully contradicting himself. Itâs like someone tipped him off with a buttload of money for him to write Aaron like this to satisfy shipping needs and to cash in those extra moneyâs from it. Even if he tried to cater to Erem*ika, this is not how you write a loving and caring couple which people will root for.Â
This next two panels just freaking infuriates me to the core of my soul. I canât even describe how dissapointed I am with Mikasa.Â
Why is she clutching that head so obsessively like that? Why is she walking and turning her back away from her comrades? After everything they have done for her, after all theyâve been through?! After everything Armin has done? Standing up for Mikasa, beating up Aaron for hurting her. I feel like even Jean, Connie and Sasha have cared more for her in a healthy way. Sure, Aaron cares for her romantically too apparently (What a twist Yams :)), but has he aided her to becoming a mentally healthier individual? Has he aided in her mental stability? The answer is a big fat NO! All I see between these two after todayâs raw Chapterâs are too Yandere obsessed individuals who have no clue on how to maintain a healthy relationship.Â
Love should only go as far as the heart can endure and it seems like her character is not willing to be aware of that. Even Armin was able to let go of Aaron in those latest panels. Why does her entire character resolve around this guy??? I really do not understand. Her Ackerbond and her age is not an excuse for her to throw her life away like this.Â
Shonenâs disgusting portrayal of womenÂ
Iâve seen this countless of times in the many years Iâve watched anime. SasuS*ku from Naruto, Ichih*me from Bleach, Shinji and that oranged hair girl from Neon Evangelion.. Why do these women get decreased to simpletons with one single goal? And that is to obsess over a bland male lead who either treats them like trash or doesnât notice them up until the last last chapter (LITERALLY WHAT YAMS HAS DONE). Some go even as far as the male leading wanting the kill the female love interest and yet the female lead is still in love with them???. Itâs disgusting for him to write the MAIN female character this way.Â
Itâs dissapointing we believed in Isayama doing Mikasaâs character right. That sheâs finally being able to let go of her codependency and to live for herself maybe live in Hizuru and find more about her roots???, but every single time she shows some improvement, itâs burried deep in the ground again by the Author. It almost seems like a lowkey kink of some of the male Mangakaâs to write about a girl obsessing over them no matter what. I see this so many times to the point that I truly stand behind it that some of them might have this fantasy.Â
I wished he didnât portray her last panels like this. Everyone else is living their lives while Mikasa is still grieving about him. Iâm not saying sheâs not allowed to grieve and everyone takes it at their own pace, but cmon... Show her living her life too. This is too much. Her being next to his grave and grieving him as her last panels just shoves it in our faces that YET AGAIN, BEING OBSESSED WITH AARON IS ALL HER CHARACTER STANDS FOR.Â
I truly despise how Isayama handles her grieving, kissing his decapacitated head, carrying it around like some handbag, and her last panels being thissss.
The world leaving Paradis alone miraciously after all that???Â
Itâs so weird and out of place with so many political feuds and disagreements between the world and Paradis, the entire Rumbling happening and we can see Mikasa just chilling outside in Paradis with no one bothering them. You can see the rings of the walls in the picture below. I donât know the exact reason behind as the manga is still in Korean, but from what I see, the story went the route of: throwing a happy ending without enough proper reason and it was all fixed just like that in a snap! It doesnât fit the entire narrative of attack on titan for things to be so peacful out of nowhere. When it comes to the narrative, how things work in that world, how hard it is to achieve peace, everything made somewhat sense up until chapter 138. 139 seems so so out of place...  Itâs like Iâm reading a chapter from a totally different manga.Â
Aaron Yoghurt got defeated so easily/ Aaronâs character assassination
The build up on the first part of the rumbling was great, those kids carrying coins. You could feel humanityâs fear and Aaronâs hatred in those pages. As if he truly had a goal and he has turned away completely from his comrades and his closest friends with no return. The world seemed truly doomed, but he got defeated just like that. He was in the nape all this time (because screw the warhammer power of hiding yourself elsewhere in his ginormous titan body). There is no master plan as we all expected, and in the end he just acts all yandere in the paths with Armin and thatâs it... They massacared his entire character as well. Many fan theories created a better ending with his character. Him being reincarnated as Historiaâs baby would be so much better. For him to still keep on seeking and to strive for power. It has always been his motive. Itâs his personality from the start until chapter 138. Even if things are okay, to keep on going and to seek that adventure, but then.. Heâs so weak and directionless suddenly.. Itâs so weird... This is not Aaron at all???
Using Aaron for him this entire post, because I donât want others to invade our tags... :)))
Historiaâs babyÂ
The only panel we got from Historiaâs child was this. Just a normal kid, normal life... Why did Isayama put so much effort in highlighting Historiaâs pregnancy if it was nothing too spectacular anyway? It seemed he had major plans for this kid and for their development too??? Itâs again, big plans, big developments, big relationship dynamic, but all got thrown out of the window...Â
Donât read the next sentence if you are a minor :â)Â
Itâs like almost ejaculating, but stopping right before it and repeating that every single Arc.
My energy when writing about this chapter is the same as Nostalgia Critic and his hatred for atla the live action
In Conclusion...
I know us fans should not be deciding on how this story should end, because this is Isayamaâs story after all, but I truly wished for him to wrap up things much more rounded. There are so many unanswered questions... Again, I think for the sake of being done with this manga, he rushed all of it. Heâs become a millionaire from this story and now his pockets are jammed full, I guess he doesnât need to put in any effort anymore, right? Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I really wished he cared for his fans a little bit more with this last chapter by giving some answers that make sense at least. Itâs his fans who gave him this platform and the opportunity to tell his story and for him to at least give in a bit of effort especially in the last chapter is the least he can do. Rivamika being canon or not, he truly rushed it without thinking much about the entire story line. He expanded it so much, he didnât know how to bind it all together.
Even after all this, Iâll still ship them in the headcanon type of way. I do give credit to Isayama for giving us a template for such a beautiful dynamic between Levi and Mikasa. He decides to waste it, but that doesnât mean we have to. I want to thank all the people with amazing writing skills, the ones who give us beautiful art like @carmenlee @phit chan @vialesanaâ and many more. I want to remind all of you that we can create something beautiful of our own and we donât neccesarily need canon lore for that. The art Iâve seen, the fanfictions Iâve read have touched me deeper than Isayama ever could at times.The Mikasa in our mind is appreciate of Levi, is mature, classy and has a strong will for herself. They spend their remaining days together peacefully. Keep writing, keep drawing, stay creative.Â
I love you all so so much, Iâve only been publicly active since March, but thank you Rivamika fandom for giving me so much joy as a lurker these past 7 years <3
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Of Qingxins and Rattles: One
Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Xiao x ReaderÂ
Summary:Â He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.
ââââ
Xiao was a being that has existed for thousands of centuries.Â
Which meant that he has outlived countless of people, watching them come and go as they eventually get taken by the passage of time.
It was also safe to say that the yaksha has experienced much more than any other mortal could in their entire lifetime. He's travelled the entirety of Liyue on foot, has bore witness to phenomenon that people could only talk about in hushed whispers as the eons pass them by and has fought a number of battles that no human could ever imagine. The blood that stained his hands wasn't something that could be easily washed away and Xiao was convinced that anything good touched by those hands would wither and perish. He was a sinner and Xiao was determined to live the rest of his life paying off the debt of his sins in perpetual agony until you waltzed into his life, turning everything he's come to known in disarray the moment he saw the breeze catch locks of your (h/c)  as you overlooked Dihua Marsh from Wangshu Inn's balcony.
In retrospect, the Yaksha should have known better than to meddle in trivial human affairs. You were just another face among thousands he's met. You shouldn't have been able to draw him in the way you did. Yet here he was now, putty in your arms as you stroked gentle circles on the small of his back, whispering words of love and reassurance that Xiao knows he doesn't deserve but soaks it up all the same.Â
Perhaps...just maybe - Xiao thinks with a hopeful afterthought as his lips press against yours in a silent act of worship of your presence, fingers ghosting feather light touches onto your skin - maybe he too deserved even a moment of respite, to love and be loved.
To simply exist in bliss.Â
Xiao looks at you with a gaze that displays deep unspoken emotion. He watches you in awe even with the simplest of his things.
He watches in awe as you work your way in the kitchen, weaving your way through the space and he fights back a chuckle as you almost trip. He catches you before you could hurt yourself though (he always does).
He watches in awe even when you rouse from your sleep, admiring the way the sun bathes you in a warm glow as it floods into the room from the open window. He admires the way your lashes slowly flutter as you attempt to blink away the sleep that raptures your system, sending him a small smile as you nuzzle further into his embrace, murmuring something about needing a couple more hours of rest. Xiao scoffs at that every time, knowing you'd oversleep (yet he always allows you).Â
Mortal traditions don't normally interest Xiao, yet he watches in awe as you walked down the makeshift aisle the inn staff had prepared, donned in fine silk and Qingxin braided in your hair. Xiao thought you've never looked more beautiful, like a goddess that has descended from Celestia itself. It takes him a while to recover from the sight and by then you're already standing next to him with the brightest of smiles, holding his hand and intertwining your fingers. The entire world tuned out of existence and the only thing Xiao could see was you. He doesn't even remember what he said for his vows, too awestruck to even form a coherent sentence as his thoughts reeled a thousand miles per second. Whatever it was he said seemed to make you happy and Xiao allows himself to smile as he slips the ring onto your finger. There weren't many to bear witness to the day you both promised to be one - except perhaps Verr, Huai'an and the traveler who each played a part - but for Xiao it was more than enough to feel the plush of your lips against his under the light of the moon and the stars.
(Zhongli couldn't help but smile at the scene before him but he leaves without another word, receding into the darkness of the night before anyone could take notice.)Â
Xiao worried the most throughout your pregnancy and even more so on the day you gave birth. Mortals are far too fragile of a creature and Xiao was hyperaware of this fact as he paced to and fro outside the door, could only hear the way you cry out and the midwife's gentle encouragement as she eases you through the process. There was a moment of silence and Xiao had to fight the urge to burst into the room, thinking that something terrible must have gone wrong until suddenly there was a tiny cry and Xiao's heart seized up in his throat.Â
He was allowed inside a moment later and he immediately moves to your side, gently stroking your hair as you smiled up at him tiredly before turning your gaze to the baby swaddled in your arms.Â
"Congratulations," the midwife had said, a smile on her face before leaving the room, "it's a healthy baby girl."Â
No amount of words could have ever expressed the emotion swirling in Xiao's eyes, both anxiety, joy and excitement clashing within amber speckled orbs but his hand stops in mid-air and all of a sudden time feels as though it was suddenly put to a halt.
Is this truly alright?
He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.
Perhaps this was just some dream he's conjured up in the hazy murk of his mind and he'll wake up on the roof of the inn like he's always had with only the frigid wind keeping him company. That's right, maybe this wasn't true at all. He's simply far too gone that he's fabricated an ideal world of his making. One where he lives in peace, where he's loved and accepted. The iron tang of blood suddenly fills the air and all at once he imagines the battles he's fought, the sickening squelch of metal against flesh and the dust and grime of battles waged in war. The screams, the cries, the pain, the agony-Â
A small hand wrapping itself around his pinky successfully pulls him out of his trance and the soft giggle and coo that followed after it made Xiao's chest constrict tightly with an emotion he can't seem to place.Â
Xiao's breath catches in his throat as the small fist around his finger grounded him back to reality.
For a moment Xiao felt stupid for allowing himself to be consumed by how his mind wandered back into one of the darkest fragments of his memory, how could he when he was in front of the very two things that shone light in his life of perpetual agony?Â
The adepti allowed a shaky breath himself a shaky breath at long last, leaning closer so he could rest his head against yours while he allowed his daughter to hold onto his pinky.Â
"Can I..." he started, fumbling with his words as he kept his gaze fixated on the infant, "can I hold her?"Â
The apprehension in his voice was terribly apparent and in an effort to calm his nerves you gently press a kiss to his cheek, nodding before carefully placing the child in his awkward attempt of a cradle. He quickly adjusts himself with your careful guidance, much more silent than he already usually is as the baby babbled sleepily. You will yourself to stay awake despite the fatigue and discomfort settling in your bones, opting instead to lean back against the headboard as you watch Xiao marvel in the presence of your child.Â
"I'll protect you." Xiao says a moment later, voice soft yet filled with determination.Â
He turns to face you this time and you swore you saw his eyes glisten with the beginning of tears but you don't get so much of a second chance to look before he rests his forehead against your shoulder, purposely hiding so you won't see the way he breaks and the vulnerability that lies behind the battle-hardened warrior of one of Rex Lapis' strongest Yakshas.
"I'll protect the both of you no matter what the cost."Â
You're both terribly precious to me.Â
ââââ
I feel like I idealize relationships with these characters so much because of how touch-starved and affection craved I am but I live for soff Xiao so here. Take this mushy thing I made during class again wwww
I do hope it wasnât too OOC at least
#Genshin Impact#Genshin Impact Xiao#genshin impact fanfiction#Genshin Impact x Reader#Xiao x Reader#Of Qingxins and Rattles
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A Canopy of Stars
Author: shadowsong26
Rating: PG
Fandom: BSG
Characters: Gaius Baltar, Caprica-Six
Warnings:Â Background references to death/etc,; but nothing really specific.
Summary:Â A few weeks after settling on Earth, Gaius and Caprica share a quiet night together.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.
Notes: Written for the Year of the OTP event. March prompt: fresh starts.
(I am also going to do this for Star Wars and some of my original âverses, if youâre interested in checking those out! One ship per canon. The fanfic ones will be posted to AO3 probably a day or two after theyâre on tumblr. This fic is also available on AO3 here. Master list of all fills can be found here.)
This was something they had never done before--lie on the grass together, staring up at the stars. Or, well, perhaps Caprica had projected something like this for herself, somewhere along the line, but it had never been an experience theyâd shared.
But they were here now, together, on the living Earth; together under a canopy of stars, the air smelling of sweet grass and woodsmoke.
(The fire was mostly there to deter any curious local fauna from investigating their half-built home. The night was warm enough, and the full moon provided enough light, that they wouldnât have needed it otherwise.)
If it wasnât entirely quiet--due to said curious local fauna, if nothing else--it was peaceful.
And it all feltâŠvery real. Purely, physically, undeniably real. This world, this new life, the sound of her breathing next to him. Not suddenly, exactly, but more so than it had yesterday, or the day before. Tomorrow, he thought, might be realer yet again.
âWhat are you thinking?â she asked.
âMm, nothing really,â he said, shifting position to lean on one arm, tracing delicate patterns along her shoulder with one finger, and then paused, remembering. ââŠyou had a scar here, didnât you? I mean, before. On Caprica.â
It had been a slightly jagged crescent on the outside of her arm. And he remembered the dress sheâd been wearing the first time heâd noticed it--soft, dark green; with just enough buttons to build tension and not so many that it became frustrating.
Her hand drifted to meet his, and she smiled. âI did. I remember thinking it looked like a moon.â
âIt did,â he said, and kissed the spot--and then her fingertips--softly. ââŠdid itâŠâ
âWhat?â
âWas it strange, toâŠto wake up and find it gone?â
It was something heâd never really thought about before, in all the time heâd given to considering Cylon resurrection, particularly after DâAnna. But seeing her unscarred shoulderâŠwhile there were things he would certainly prefer to forget, the thought of waking up with scars like that one, with all the little marks that showed oneâs body had been truly lived in just--gone, washed away in a cybernetic amniotic bathâŠ
ââŠIâm not sure strange is the right word,â she said, after thinking it over for a moment. âEspecially withâŠwith everything else going through my head at the time. But I noticed it. I was encouraged toâŠI tried not to think about it too often. To allow myself thatâŠthat clean break, that new beginning. To move forward. But I remembered. I couldnât help remembering.â It was her turn to shift position now, leaning on that same arm to face him, resting her face on her hand; her hair almost glowing in the moonlight. âDo you want to know how I got it?â
âMaybe later,â he said, leaning in to kiss her, light and tender. âWe have time.â
And there it was again; that sense of reality. Not closing in, the way it had in the past.
But stretching out around them; wide open, like this grassy clearing; like the endless starry sky.
Like the promises theyâd made--no more secrets, no more lies, no more hidden agendas or ulterior motives. To take the leap of faith, to be honest with each other, to trust each other.
They had loved each other for a long time; but this kind of simple, open trust was something new.
And beautiful.
She smiled; that soft, sweet smile that had once been so rare and so cherished--although no less so now that he saw it almost every day--and kissed him back. âWe have all the time in the world.â
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One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series âdonât worry about a thingâ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it wonât let me embed it)
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse
Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they arenât they
Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.
Word Count: 2778
Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182
If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:
-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.
-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasnât for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You werenât usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.
-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the worldâs slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snailâs pace. You werenât getting anywhere quick.
All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.
Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.
The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious âWAHEYYYYâ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.
âY/N? Is that you?â
You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.
You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as âare they? Arenât they?â
You sure as hell couldnât tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.
Heâd told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.
Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.
In the state you were currently in, you couldnât decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.
Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.
âDonât tell me someoneâs upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/Nâ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.
âNo, no. Not upset. I swear. Just⊠pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, yâsee.â
âOh. Well, I know all about that. Iâm quick to anger at any given moment but then again, âs in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?â
You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someoneâs puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.
âIt was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.â
Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.
âOoookay. Well, I wonât ask for details but, here.â He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you werenât in a fit state for rational thinking.
âThank you,â you breathed out. âIâm all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.â You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.
âWhat you got there? Looks interesting.â He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.
âOh, mouse traps. Thereâs a little shit thinking that he owns my flat whoâs probably currently in my bread bin. Thought Iâd stop the problem while I could, considering thereâs that saying about seeing mice. Yâknow, for every mouse you see, thereâs always another one somewhere. Canât wait to clean that up!â Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.
âWoah. You really are pissed, arenât you?â Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.
âYes. Yes, actually I am. Because yâknow what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely donât think that Iâve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I canât relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like Iâve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, Iâm fuming.â You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.
The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.
âCan I give you a lift?â
â
After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.
Youâd calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that youâd had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that heâd even offered you a lift. This wasnât helped when you heard him say,
âLet me walk you upstairs. Check that youâre okay.â
You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.
âWoah woah there, calm down. Itâs just a little mouse, weâll sort this,â Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldnât help but smile slightly.
Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.
âLook Y/N, Iâm going to do something here which I donât do very often, and all Iâm asking is that you donât freak out,â the demon announced.
You couldnât help but make a sarcastic joke.
âWhatâs that then, the housework?â Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.
âFine, you donât need my help!â He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldnât help but tease him back into good spirits.
âNo no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?â
âSnake.â
You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.
âA⊠a snake? You have a snake?â
âYes. Well, no. Well⊠yes. Look itâs complicated, can I just show you?â
Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.
You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.
âHow fucking many are there now?!â You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.
âLook Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?â
âOf mice? I think thatâs pretty evident Crow-â
âNo, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?â
âWhat is it with you and these snakes?â You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.
âStay still. Donât freak out please. I promise this will help.â
Before you knew it, Crowleyâs hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.
What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.
Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didnât take long, considering the snakeâs body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.
Youâd never really considered Crowleyâs powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didnât control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.
But it was so, so beautiful.
Moving.
And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.
Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.
Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowleyâs sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.
There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.
The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before youâd even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.
You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and ⊠ahem⊠was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.
âConsider those rodents dispatched.â
The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldnât help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.
Youâd just witnessed something- something that couldnât exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?
Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.
There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.
âPlease tell me you didnât eat those mice, Crowley?â Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.
The demon scoffed, âI prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didnât eat them. I can assure you though, they wonât be back any time soon.â
Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowleyâs sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.
Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasnât exactly thrilled by this.
âHey, donât play games with those. Theyâre my-â
He didnât stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowleyâs, but at least some of it came from your heart.
âDo it again. Turn back.â
The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demonâs face.
âReally? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.â
The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.
âNot at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. Itâs intrigue. I swear.â
You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.
And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...
Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadnât continued to question you.
The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.
âCan... may I? Can I touch?â You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.
Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.
âCrowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.â You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.
Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snakeâs head suddenly felt warm.
Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.
âI didnât even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.â
Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.
âCrowley, are you blushing?â You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.
This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.
And of course, he made you blush too.
A new side of Crowley. One that you couldnât help but adore.
#good omens one shot#good omens#good omens x reader#crowley x reader#snake crowley#good omens fanfic#reader insert
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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB
Chapter 11: Cadence
(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)
The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Danielaâs. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. Thereâs a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your loverâs abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.
âCome hell or high water, Songbird, I wonât let anything happen to you. I promise,â Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. âYouâve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you⊠except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.â Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. âNow letâs put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?â
THREE HOURS EARLIER:
âHere, you can borrow my brooch. Itâs been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,â Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. âIâm more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I donât know where the hell theyâve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.â
âAnything for my best friend. Especially after all the times youâve saved my ass these past few months,â you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. âSpeaking of that⊠of my life being on the line, I mean⊠no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. Youâve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what Iâve done, what Iâve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing Iâd ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.â
Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.
âNobody around here is stupid enough to think youâll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and âservantâ. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,â she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, sheâs pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile sheâd ever see gracing your lips.
---------------------------
A handâs edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your âcover storyâ for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Danielaâs input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.
âAre you sure our mutual friend wonât be upset to see the two of us together?â You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.
Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where theyâve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.
âGood luck. Donât fuck this up for Daniela, or Iâll never hear the end of it,â she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didnât know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.
âAva, please calm down. If youâre not careful, sheâll throw something at you. If she does that, youâll probably dodge, and then Iâll probably end up getting hit, and then Iâll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,â you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her âfriendâ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldnât parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way thereâŠ
ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:
âI love you, Firefly, and I know that youâre going to do absolutely amazing out there. Iâm so proud of you,â you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Danielaâs cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. âLady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado⊠let us begin!â
Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandraâs partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. Itâs fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her familyâs applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.
Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcinaâs direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.
âNow, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed âNorthern Lightsâ. Enjoy!â You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you werenât sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. âTwas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.
When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Danielaâs hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.
There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. âTis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.
âOutstanding, incredible,â she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Danielaâs, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process whatâs happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. âYou did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.â The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.
Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.
âIâll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,â she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels⊠wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. âMother⊠we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.â
#daniela dimitrescu x reader#daniela dimitrescu#resident evil: village#re8 village#avaskian caldwell#cliffhanger#sorry folks#not beta read
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So I watched SPN for years, right up until the end of S11, when they brought back Mary. I heard that S15 would be the last season, and I was like âoh ok Iâll rewatch (for like the 8th time) and finish SPN thenâ BUT THEN 15x18 happened and I was violently pulled back into the SPN fandom. I still havenât caught up fully watching yet, but Iâve read so much discourse now...and I have thoughts. Hypotheses currently. Iâll wait to finish the whole show for real to call any of this theories but, I wanted to record my thoughts.
Theyâre about Chuck. As a villain. Which weirds me out. As an antagonist? Sure. As evil? No. Canât envision it. I just finished my rewatch of S5 and, damn, but if Chuck is the ultimate villain, S5 reads very differently. :0
But I recently saw a post comparing Deanâs reaction in 1x18 (I believe) to his in 10x05 (for sure) about when someone mentions his motherâs death. In 1x18, itâs Sam when they were children and Dean gets angry. In 10x05, itâs a group of high school girls and Dean just bops his head along to the song. The post was framing it as 10x05 not understanding Deanâs thoughts about his mother, but I think that both episodes understand Dean. When Dean is a child, the trauma over his motherâs murder is still fresh. By 10x05, the event is 70 years in the past. Of course it still affects Dean. Of course. You never really get over something like that. But Iâd argue that after 70 years, Dean has moved through the stages of grief to acceptance. It still hurts, but like an old ache, not a fresh, still-bleeding wound.
Interestingly, 10x05 is when we see Chuck, after a long absence. Heâs watching the play, probably happy that someone loves his work enough to even make a musical, but he is also watching the Winchesters. The actual episodes of the show, aka the books Chuck writes, are what Chuck knows/cares about regarding the Winchesters. Despite being God, Iâd argue he doesnât pay attention to every second and all the little minutia of the boysâ lives. So, here in 10x05, we have confirmation that Chuck is around to see that Dean has healed from his motherâs death.
Later, in S11, Dean acts as therapist/life counsellor to Chuck/God, regarding Amara and Lucifer. And it works! Dean teaches God about family and about healing. Why does God listen to Dean Winchester, a random human? Perhaps it is because of S1-5. Perhaps it is because Dean and Sam were part of Godâs test, as God himself describes it in 5x22.
What was the test? Was it Godâs experiment about choice and free will? About freedom vs peace? Or, perhaps, was God trying to understand sibling relationships? He and Amara are two faces of the same coin. They are siblings, but with very different outlooks and it caused a rift between them, caused Chuck to seal Amara away before she could destroy his creations. Chuck regretted this, but saw it as a necessary betrayal. But then, some time later, Chuckâs angelic children experience their own betrayal and sibling rift. Lucifer tries to turn the angels against God, rebel and reject God. He makes demons, for sure, and maybe even Hell. But why? God figures that Lucifer was maybe jealous of the new baby (humans) like others in the show postulates. Or maybe Lucifer had beef specifically with Michael, because humans are little more than amoebas from an angelic perspective. Aside from Castiel, Anna and a handful of other angels, angels consistently view humans as humans might view dust mites. Maybe humans were the cause of the rift between Michael and Lucifer, but it was Michael and Luciferâs relationship that needed fixing in the end, regardless.
So God is left with the sad conclusion that maybe close siblings will inevitably betray each other and be unable to forgive and heal. He wants to heal with Amara. But he also wants Michael and Lucifer to be able to heal. (It doesnât occur to God that maybe Luciferâs problem was never with humanity or Michael; it was with God.)
So God has research to do, to see if itâs possible for siblings to experience such deep betrayal and still heal. He turns to his little hairless apes, the only sentient species on Earth with potential to parallel the angels. He starts testing siblings. Cain and Abel are first up. Needless to say, but the betrayal was too strong and left no room for healing. But on down the line of Cain, God continues testing. Eventually, we come to Sam and Dean.
God has scheduled Michael and Luciferâs family counselling session for 2010. All the data up to this point says it can only end badly. Maybe itâll half-kill the Earth, but itâs finally time for Michael and Lucifer to meet and for one of them to die. God isnât happy about this conclusion, but itâs what the data says. So, finally, the last test subjects, the last in the line who will be the vessels for Michael and Luciferâs showdown, arrive. Sam and Dean Winchester are to be the last sibling test. The conclusion seems foregone at this point, but there is no point in cancelling the last bit of the test after so long, so it continues. God watches. And Sam and Dean surprise God. Siblings after siblings had failed for millennia to heal. Betrayals too strong, healing too little, too late. But Sam and Dean. no matter how badly they hurt each other, find a way to come back together and heal. They donât give up on each other, despite millennia of data to the contrary. Still, the angels and demons push and push at Sam and Dean until their rift is as wide and as deep as Michael and Luciferâs, as Godâs and Amaraâs (in late S4). It seems, despite the brothersâ best efforts earlier on, itâs all for naught.
But there is a further element of randomness, something God couldnât foresee. Castiel. God hasnât had occasion for romantic love in his own experience, so he is entirely blind to what choices Castiel is likely to make. He provides an element of randomness to the experiment, an essential part that gives Dean the ultimate chance to go back to Sam and begin to heal (4x22).
Throughout S5, Sam and Dean heal. There is hurt, still, of course, but they love each other and forgive each other. By 5x22, theyâve surprised everyone. Even the angels have given up on turning them against each other, and have shrugged and settled for using Nick and Adam as the vessels for the showdown. Sam and Dean passed their test. They were siblings who betrayed each other and healed from it. God reconsiders how family counselling will go with Michael and Lucifer. He figured it would be the Apocalypse, the end of the problems between Michael and Lucifer, as one of them dies, as had always happened before. But, Sam and Dean showed God, that though it is rare, it is possible to heal. So God gives Sam and Dean an out. He gives Sam the strength to seize back control from Lucifer, should things go south.
Finally, the showdown arrives. Michael and Lucifer meet. They talk things out. To Godâs surprise, Lucifer reveals that he never had a problem with Michael. He had forgiven Michael long ago. But Michael couldnât forgive Lucifer. He had to be a âgood sonâ and do what he thought God wanted him to do. But Michael didnât realise, that God doesnât give orders. Free will all the way, baby! But the whole thing comes as a surprise. Apparently, all this time, the problem relationship wasnât siblings, it was parents.
Oops.
Good thing God had a back-up plan.
Sam throws himself and Lucifer (and Michael and Adam) into the Cage. Michael and Lucifer have an eternity to figure things out between each other now. But thatâs beside the point. The point is, now, that God has to start testing all over again. Not how to fix sibling relationships, but how to fix parent-child relationships.
God restores Castiel, perhaps for a few reasons because God exists outside of time, but originally it may have been just for one. He likes Castiel. He is impressed that Castiel invented free will for himself, broke free of angelic programming (multiple times over), and did it all for love. Itâs novel. Itâs interesting. God might even think itâs sweet. But God has had time later, and thought about it, and he has a plan. And Castiel is essential.
But Dean Winchester is the key.
Sam and Deanâs relationship with their own father has been strained, but both boys find a way to forgive John his flaws and failings, and love him. Whenever they do get a chance to see him again, post his death, they donât hate him. Theyâve healed. Johnâs relationship with Sam and Dean is one point of data, Abraham and Isaac another. There are many data points that God can reflect back on and consider.
But as S6 through S10 roll on, God watches Sam and Dean and Castiel. He even watches Crowley and Rowena for another data point. Dean is his main focus, however. (This is a little meta, but as the story focuses more on Dean than Sam post S5, it ties in. Prior to S6, both Sam and Dean were essential - the sibling test. Now, post S5, the parent test, Dean is the most essential. Of course, Sam and Castiel are important too. But Dean is key.)
Dean is a good father. He was a good father to Sam, even when he was only 6 years old himself. He was a good father to Ben. He was willing to die for Bobby John. Heâs always good with kids. Not only that, but Dean is blunt enough, brave enough, and crazy enough to tell God to Godâs face what he thinks. God needs Deanâs advice, his perspective and opinion on family relationships, but he also needs to see what Dean would do if he were in Godâs shoes.
[Edit (1/04/21): After seeing Michael and Lucifer (mostly) heal, and after seeing Sam and Dean heal their relationship, God finally has hope for him and Amara. So God logically wants to retrieve Amara from her prison. But how? Well, he could just wander on up to Cain and do it himself, but what would Amara say? âSo I see youâve come crawling back, eh, Chucky?â She wouldnât be impressed with God. She wouldnât understand, because sheâs hopeless too. SO how to give her hope? How to make her see that she and God can be okay again? Why, stick her near Dean Winchester, of course! So God sets things up for Dean to get and lose the Mark of Cain, thereby ensuring that Amara will feel a connection to Dean and stick around him/keep him alive long enough for Dean to work his life-coach magic.]
In S11, God and Amara heal their relationship because of the hope Sam and Dean gave God, and also the direct advice Dean gives God. God and Lucifer, not so much.
God needs more data. He needs to see what Dean would do. In comes Castielâs relevance. God sets things up so that Lucifer can have a son. A nephil. Jack. And God points Castiel in Jackâs direction, trusting Castielâs ability for unconditional love to keep Jack alive long enough for the experiment. Castiel becomes Jackâs father. But Castiel will never betray Jack, the way God betrayed Lucifer. And, besides, Castiel isnât the target of this experiment. But it is Castielâs relationship with Dean Winchester that provides the link needed to get the experiment rolling.
Because Jack is Castielâs son, he is therefore Sam and Deanâs nephew. Except, God has been watching Castiel and Dean. And, frankly, their romantic love for each other is so obvious even God cannot miss it. Through Castiel, Dean sees Jack as his son too. He loves Jack, exactly like a son. In this way, Dean parallels God, and Jack parallels Lucifer.
But God knows Dean would not easily turn on any child, let alone his own child. So God had a plan for that too. One that Amara helped him with.
They brought back Mary Winchester.
Mary is the one person in existence whose loss would hurt Dean enough to spur him to action. So, she was brought back to die. It was a matter of only a few years of gentle prodding to get everything in position. Jack causes Maryâs death. Dean is faced with a horrible decision. If Jack can kill Mary, whatâs to say that Sam and Castiel wouldnât be next? Maryâs death is like everything beginning all over again for Dean as well. Her first death set off a chain reaction, a series of unfortunate events that spanned decades and nearly caused the ruination of not only Deanâs life, but Samâs and Johnâs and even the world. That scar, which had healed as well as it could after 70 years, that God saw was healed in 10x05, has been violently opened up again. Itâs the only thing that could force Deanâs hand, that could get him to betray Jack and try to kill him. If Jack had killed Sam or Castiel, it wouldnât have had the same effect. Both Sam and Castiel had died and come back so many times, and while it would hurt Dean and make him doubt Jack, their deaths would be a sacrifice that Dean would feel obligated to respect, to give Jack a second chance like they would both want. (And God has been laying the groundwork for Dean, convincing him that Jack is evil, will be evil like Lucifer, canât be allowed to live. All things God has thought about Lucifer over time. Was Lucifer inherently evil? Was their rift inevitable?)
So, here it is. The big test. Will Dean kill Jack? Will he betray Jack and cause an unhealable rift? Or will he find a way to heal, like he did with Sam against all the odds?
And, once again, Dean impresses God. He refuses to kill Jack.
But now weâre in the endgame. Sam, Dean and Castiel are aware that Jackâs life was only on the line because of God. Itâs not something they can forgive, or understand. Theyâre all Godâs guinea pigs, and while he loves his guinea pigs, he knows heâs hurt them in the name of science, of knowledge. or healing, and God canât undo what heâs done. Free will is linear, after all. So it is time for the Winchesters, Castiel and Jack included, to be done with God. God is done with them, too. Itâs time for them to be free and at peace. The experiments are done. God has decided not to kill Lucifer. He has decided to try to heal. He can get Lucifer out of the Empty and talk and try to fix things. He has forever to fix things, now that he knows he can. (The last element of this, Jack forgiving Dean for trying to kill him, is something I have limited knowledge of, but I am under the impression happens so... To be added in the edit once I finish the series.)
But the only way the Winchesters will be able to rest, is if they think God, the last and greatest villain, is out of the way. They know theyâve been manipulated their whole lives, first towards the sibling experiment and now the parent experiment, so they need to think God is gone so they can feel secure in their free will once more. Truthfully, God never took their free will. He set them up in situations, maybe even gave a bio-chemical nudge of anger (Dean) or attraction (Sam and Eileen) every now and then. But the choices were always theirs. Still, God knows they wonât see it that way. So he sets things up so that they can defeat him.
He lets them win. He wants them to win. They cannot defeat God, after all. Itâs not Godâs time, and Death is the only one who can claim God in the end, as the two embrace as friends and walk to the next existence. But the Winchesters need this, and so God allows it. A last gift, to the beings who have been such help, hope and inspiration to him.
With an eye for an eventual S16, 15x20 is written to be âan endingâ but also one that could easily be reframed as a bad dream.
For example...
Unfortunately, after Jack, suped up on a extra Grace God lent him, restores the Earth and expends all the Grace (âgiving up the mantle of God so that their is no God, no plans, only Free Willâ), and Dean, Sam and Jack head back to the Bunker to regroup and gather the ingredients to do the spell to rescue Castiel from the Empty, theyâre jumped by monsters who are angry with how much God has fucked with them on behalf of the Winchesters. 15x20 is all a djinn dream Dean is trapped in.
16x01 is Dean waking himself up from the djinn dream, Sam and Jack escaping their own monsters, and then the end of 16x01 is Dean saying something about waking Castiel up from his own dreams in the Empty. The rest of S16 sees the boys save Castiel, reunite with Eileen, start a monster-hunting Bobby Singer/Men of Letters-esque organisation, Dean and Castiel getting together and getting married on Valentineâs Day, Jack getting to live a normal life, going to school, making friends, etc.
If their is no S16 ever (which would be criminal), then 15x20 makes no sense, unless it is plainly a recount of an old, hopeless ending written by God. However you spin it, 15x20 is not the way it seems (like owls).
All things being said, God is an antagonist, but heâs not evil. Heâs an asshole, sure, but he never once worked against the Winchesters, never bet against them, never tried to erase or end them. He wanted them to win. He wanted to see the fruits of free will be love, second chances, hope, forgiveness, healing, and happiness, not just betrayal, pain, selfishness, jealousy, disappointment, and hopelessness.
Why is the ending he shows Becky âhopelessâ? Because God is. He has spent his long existence losing his most loved family members. Amara, Lucifer. How can things end well for God, when they canât even end well for humans? But Sam and Dean defy the script, again and again. They surprise God, defying the statistics, defying the hypotheses, throwing the experiment into disarray. Giving God hope. Sam and Dean were okay. Dean and Jack were okay. If God had a romantic love, he would find hope from Dean and Castiel being okay. But when God wrote the book he showed Becky, he was writing what he thought would happen. In the end, surely, not even Dean can be enough to hold Sam and Cas and Jack together. But in the end, as we see, as God sees, he is proven wrong and heâs happy to be wrong. Heâs hopeful. And he can leave Dean, Sam, Castiel and Jack, and all the angels and all the humans, to rule the Earth and the Heavens. He doesnât need to learn anything more from them, so he heads to the Empty, with Amara, with Lucifer, with Death (Billie or not, Death is there for God in the end), and they can all depart for a better existence of their own.
If you read all of this, thanks! I eagerly anticipate watching the remaining 10 seasons so I can come back and edit the heck outta this, but until then, if yâall have any thoughts, Iâd be interested to hear them~
TLDR: God is a morally bankrupt scientist and the Winchesters are his guinea pigs, but heâs not evil and he does love his guinea pigs, even if he could really treat them nicer.
#supernatural#spn#dean winchester#sam winchester#jack kline#castiel#god#chuck#amara#lucifer#mary winchester#destiel#deancas#this is what i get for living on spn tumblr in a post s15 world while rewatching s5 and having memories ranging from hq to 8bit about s1-s11#be kind i haven't finished my rewatch/finished the show so i probably have stuff wrong#what if god isn't evil just has no inherent moral compass because he has to teach himself everything#and he's taken to using the winchesters as his guinea pigs/life counsellors
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Commission for the ever so lovely @bouncyirwin - who spreads joy, happiness, and support as freely and easily as some people breathe (this fandom wouldnât be the same without you đđđđđ)
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How anyone could so much as breathe without adoration hitching their efforts around her, Shisui really didnât know.
This wasnât even the first time this week heâd found himself staring in awe without a word able to escape him. Sakura had a way of making him dumb to the quick wit and playful flirting that usually came as natural as most any other social interaction to him - heâd always been the social butterfly of his clan, berated for it at times and having his hair fondly tousled at others. And yet here he sat, in the corner of the little restaurant Sakura and her team and her teamâs families had all crowded into, unable to absorb any of the chatter or whatever joke had Kakashi snickering behind his book or even what had Naruto and the brat arguing this time.
Sakura seemed content enough to sit back and soak it all in as well, pride in the soft smile that graced her lips, a cup of tea cradled in her hand near her chest in lieu of the spirit that many of her companions had chosen to partake in this evening. And who could blame them? Rare was the day any shinobi party could come back unscathed along with their success, and given the tentative peace between Konoha and Kiri could have been destroyed at the smallest misstep their celebration came with relief felt by the entire village.
It warmed him to no end to see her so content and sure, so proud, none of the hesitance that used to haunt her expressions and tense her body anywhere to be found - the kunoichi that had chased and chased after her teammates had long since caught up and surpassed them in so many ways, and even without being privy to the intimate details of her internal battles Shisui could feel emotion trying to choke him.
Gods, but he had it bad, didnât he? He forced some of his own tea down, looking away from the woman who had no idea she held his heart so tightly in her grip, scrubbing his face with his free hand in an attempt to clear his head. Admiration was one thing - very understandable in this case, given Sakura set the precedent for strong and capable shinobi who could punch a ravine into existence - but they could hardly even be called friends if he was honest with himself. So openly staring at her with his heart in his eyes could definitely count as creepy.
Maybe he needed more hobbies.
âNot really like you to hang out on the sidelines.â
It was a bit embarrassing to be snuck up on like that. He hoped his surprise wasnât too obvious as he peeked through his hands, finding the woman whoâd been occupying his thoughts all night now occupying the seat next to him. Up so close he could see her cheeks were dusted pink, though he couldnât really tell if it was the chill from the night air or just some blush sheâd painted on.
Either way. It didnât really matter which one it was. All Shisui could really do with the information is filing it under âsheâs the most gorgeous woman Iâve ever metâ and keep the simple image of her tucking some pink hair behind her ear firmly in his mindâs eye for the rest of his days.
âNot a place Iâd expect to find you either.â She blinked at his words as if confused, pursing her lips even, so despite how obvious it seemed to him Shisui clarified, âYou more the frontline type, right?â
âAh, yeah, I donât really care for âsupporting othersâ to mean âbeing left behind.â But today,â Sakura turned just enough to look over at her teammates, Shisui following her gaze to see Naruto gesturing wildly in horror at something that had Sasuke snickering unashamedly. âToday, I think Iâm alright with not being in the middle of them. There are some conversations Iâd rather they have without me.â
âWhat even has them going, anyway?â
âRelationships,â Sakura said, a little too quickly. But she didnât let the awkwardness stay, her eyes flicking down to her tea which she held between her hands as if her fingers might be cold. Shisui wished he could warm them between his own. âWell, not exactly relationships. More like things people do in them. They seem to find it amusing to list all the people theyâve managed to kiss or make out with.â
With a snort, Shisui said, âIâm guessing theyâre both at the top of each otherâs lists then?â
He was very glad to see the tiny bit of tension relax right away from Sakura as she laughed, her eyes alight with mirth. âSomehow, they always seem to forget to mention that.â
âBet you love to remind them.â
âBet I do.â She flashed him a smile that had his ears heating up, and for the life of him Shisui could not say why it made him feel bold.
Despite how calm people saw him, despite his rather laid back nature, Shisui often found himself tongue tied where feelings were involved. But past his beating heart he somehow managed to not make a fool of himself, his nerves not overwhelming him - perhaps it was simply how welcomed he felt in her presence? How inviting and warm she was even as all she did was sip her tea, simply existing but existing there, next to him, when any number of seats were available next to those she was far closer to. And didnât that make him feel lucky.
âDo you have a list?â
The gods only knew how he managed to make that sound casual. Even when Sakuraâs eyes widened and blinked up at him (he swore his favorite color used to be blue but damn if that shade of green wasnât going to change that) - and for a terrifying moment he remembered just how easily this woman could demolish any wall that stood in her way. With her fist.
Even if that wall was made with solid concrete, or was, say, a whole ass mountain. He was pretty sure he wasnât anywhere near as solid as a mountain.
When she chose to not punch him, every single last bone in his body heaved a sigh of thankfully unbroken relief. âNo, I...donât have a list.â
No list? That was a little surprising. âA name, then?â Maybe not the best thing to ask someone, at least not before he was sure she would be comfortable with answering. Shisui was quick to add âUnless itâs a secret or somethingâ - the last thing he needed was to drive her away by pushing into her own personal life.
Though, then again - and something in Shisui rose up in slight saddened panic at the thought - what would he do if she did have a name? A significant other? Itachi was out on another of his long missions, who exactly was he supposed to lean on and eat comfort chocolate with if it turned out his growing crush was, well...crushed, before anything could come of it?
âNo. No name.â
It took physical effort to not sag with some sort of relief at her words, but it wasnât a relief that Shisui had much time to process. Because as much as he wanted a chance with the woman of his dreams, as much as he had wanted to hear that...
âEh? Really? You?â Shisui found it beyond the realms of possibility that Sakura, of all the people in Konoha, had yet to have her first kiss, and that shock was perhaps a bit too loud in his tone.
Definitely not good for his health and wellbeing. The nerve on Sakuraâs forehead was suddenly twitching, and the sharp look she sent his way had him gulping.
âAnd whatâs that supposed to mean?â
âOh, no! No no, nothing- I didnât mean like that!â He shook his head a little more than necessary, horror dawning on him as he realized his unintentional insinuation. âI just meant- youâre just, well, beautiful! Beautiful and an exceptional shinobi, a damn good medic, and from what Sasukeâs told me in confidence you make a mean blueberry tart. Not to mention you could punch through steel if it offended you.â By some grace of the gods he managed to bit off his rambling there, scratching nervously at the back of his head, almost mumbling as he ended his poor excuse of an explanation with, âI just expected, you know⊠You might have kissed at least one of the people who admired you.â
The moments of quiet after his words were probably the most terrifying seconds of his life, though by some mercy Sakura did not seem angry. Maybe his apology/explanation was acceptable after all and he wouldnât have to-
Sakura said something under her breath, and Shisui blinked back out of his thoughts, frowning a little in confusion. âWhat?â
âItâs just that IâŠâ Her bottom lip caught between her teeth for a moment, drawing Shisuiâs eyes. âIâve never really had an appealing offer. You know?â
Had she always been sitting that close to him? Their thighs were touching and Shisui couldnât remember when that had happened, but his pulse picked up, the whole of him keenly aware of every inch of her.
And how bad would it be, really, to be buried in the ground by those deceptively slender fingers?
âWould I,â Shisui started, with a smooth tone that belied how his heart beat frantically in his chest, âqualify as an appealing offer?â
A breath. Two. Sakuraâs gaze flickered down to his lips as hers parted the barest bit - and even before she nodded Shisui knew her answer - though he knew not how he'd been so lucky as to get a yes.
Her hair was soft under his fingers as he cupped the back of her head, her pupils wide as she tilted her chin to look up at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that they were not alone, their friends and coworkers laughing and drinking and chattering away not even half a small restaurant away from them, but all of him preferred to focus on Sakuraâs hand now coming to rest on his arm, the way she shifted forward as he leaned closer, how intimate it felt to brush their noses together, her breath tickling his lips.
And then their lips met, and the rest of the world fell away.
#shisaku#shisui#sakura#fanfiction#mywriting#commission#thank you!!#I'm sorry it took a while to write T^T#fluff#some humor#also on ao3#link in the source!
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