#the most they do is realise actually they would die for this other person they met two hours ago and its beautiful

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

The funny thing was that I expressed a mild concern about the review of a book that was just "smart, funny and sexy" because fellas several people are trying to hunt you i hope nothing sexy happens You Do Not Have The Time and also hardly know each other! and my mum said "you know, I think they're just using sexy as a new substitue word for cool or something. I recently heard someone call an interior design sexy which makes no sense at all." and she was right. the novel was indeed smart and also funny (but that is not the word i'd use, it had humour and funny moments but it's still a rather dark book with more serious dark fantasy vibes tbh) but the sexiest thing that happened was a very short kiss on the lips with no single emotion greatly explored behind it and zero romantic advances between those two people or as much as a hint of attraction (and i don't think it's just me being aroace either).

so anyway people have started to describe things as sexy ranodmly? what? why? also i'm realising i really have issues with that review. "smart funny and sexy" only 2/3s of this are true and the first part implies the entirely wrong vibes.

it has humour it's smart it's a super good novel but most of all it will have you gripped by the throat and is infusing your veins with its very essence refusing to leave just like the living magic that burnt through an entire world and it's going to choke you until you have the novel finished and then some. you might also become weird about blood

[ivys-garden]

Wild Life Spoilers: Session 2 Alliance Report:

Teams:

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Grian, Skizz) - formerly the Sub One Club, immediately forget their idea of using crawl mode and lament that they can't be sub one anymore. Mumbo then decides they are “The Floaters” due to them becoming obsessed with the levitation ability. Luckily this doesn't stick because I could not handle an alliance that changes name every session. Mumbo and Skizz built their “base” as a series of bridges, leading to Mumbo calling them “The Spanners” since “they span things”.

Speaking of levitation, they died from that. And starvation. This was not Mumbo or Skizzes session, with Mumbo losing two life's and Skizz losing 3, halfing his amount of lives in one session. If Skizz loses one next week he will be yellow. Seems Grian's curse of outlining his alliance has started early.

The Bam-Boozelers - (Scar, Lizzie, Jimmy)

I normally have a lot of faith in all life series teams. I think anyone can make it to the end. I think this so long as it is not abundantly clear that they're doomed. I never say someone is Doomed from the star-

This team is doomed from the start. Immediately they decide that the Wild Card is that he can't heal from hunger, now this is a good first thought and is shared by other teams, though those other teams immediately realised that if that were the Wild Card everyone would die of hunger and started looking for other options.

These 3? They stuck with that idea and started making boats to travel. When they realised that their hunger reduced passively, they panicked until Grian saved them by telling everyone in chat that they could eat anything. Now, armed with this knowledge they just have to find a good and easy to use food source.

They chose stone shovels. An item that cannot be stacked and required way more effort and resources to make than was worth it. And they stuck by this even as others told them about better foods. They only stopped using shovels because of the randomisation.

How is Jimmy the most confident member on his team?

In other news, they're theme park is going well and Lizzie's Parrot is cute. Jimmy also apparently has “Big Mascot Energy”.

Renwood - (Martyn, Ren)

These dogs are just vibing. They each lose a life each, no big deal. A far cry from previous seasons, Ren is just chilling, Not going after anyone unless they go after them first and trying to get Martyn to do the same. And he actually does, not attacking anyone this session at all. He even gives up going after Jimmy for stealing their cows (an action which was by every account deserved.)

The Tuff Guys (Tango, Etho, Bdubs) (not technically together (?))

Ah yes, Team B.E.S.T without Skizz …. Considering Skizz was the only person keeping Team B.E.S.T from imploding, this can only go well!

Yeah this team is not staying together. Technically they're already breaking up, with Bdubs saying they should only look out for themselves and insisting they live in different houses. Bdubs even cements this mentality by fully encouraging Scar to help kill Tango for no reason.

As for the “Tuff” part, Etho has decided that they need to be tougher and take what they want from people. You know, not to be nice or polite.

Luckily we can see how this works in practice, as Gem encourages him to go be tough to the Final Girls, let's see how Etho is an not being nice:

● he greets Scott and Cleo

● makes small talk

● politely asks for copper

● tries to stop Pearl stealing from them since he doesn't know she's on they're team

● takes more of the stuff he was told he could have

● gives them obsidian in return anyway

● and still feels bad about it.

Yeah not only was this the least tough Etho had ever been, the Girls almost certainly didn't notice and probably won't even care when they do. Great job Etho.

The Fast And The Furious (Gem, Joel)

This session, Gem announced her plan to make friends so people don't judge them based on 5 seasons worth of going insane every time they go red. This lasts for 3 minutes before other people arrive, Scar misunderstands instructions, Etho lets the cops out and the Final Girls partake in their favourite pastime of miscommunication and insisting their own teammates are doing something they aren't.

Other attempts to make friends do go better, with Gem arguably being on good terms with everyone except two people. So that's good.

Gem also builds a cute little Bard that I give a session before it's burnt down or has a Creeper hole in it. Joel spends all session building a car. Everyone on the server thinks it's hideous, mainly because it is hideous.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Pearl, Cleo, Impulse, Bigb)

Somehow the most stable team here, even if it is mostly out of spite. Yeah this team will stay together, the core four have never betrayed anyone unless an outside faction is involved. They're safe. Even if they continue the tradition of forgetting all the bad stuff they did and only reimbursing bad stuff their teammates did (what do you mean Pearl doesn't trust people based on what happened in previous seasons? That was you, Cleo!)

Oh Bigb also joined this session. Though I imagine this will be a Heart Foundation situation where he bases alone despite being on the team.

Scott and Cleo spend a lot of time this session fixing the mistakes Pearl and Impulse make by acting how they always do. A house and wall are built and Pearl and Impulse prepare revenge plans on Grian and Martyn. Pearl encourages Impulse not to tell the others, seemingly forgetting that Cleo and Bigb are addicted to revenge and would have no problem with this.

Alliances and Friendships:

Lizzie and Gem

these two agree to team up if their teammates die. Since their teammates are idiots.

Remember, Lizzie is the one who made the stone shovel plan.

Spanners Vs Bammers

The Bam-Boozelers still hate the Spanners, dropping their reputation all the way to zero. Mumbo and Skizz either don't realise this or don't care. Grian was gone almost all session mining so can't really say what his thoughts on the situation are.

The Family - (Joel, Etho, Gem)

Etho is indoctrinated into yet another family, though he seems more willing to be present for this one. When Tuff Guys breaks up like 5 minutes into session 3, we all know where he's going.

Also Scar might also be part of the family though every else seems to just ignore this.

Spanners Vs Tango

The Spanners are really angry at Tango for accidentally killing Skizz. They seem satisfied with manifesting his death through belief, but it seems they haven't let him off the hook yet. We all know Bdubs won't help him

Joel might also be mad at Tango since he ate the wheels of his ugly car.

Mumbo & Jimmy still hate Renwood

Mumbo still doesn't trust Martyn after the enchanter fiasco and Jimmy attempts to get revenge for the cow theft. Ren and Martyn have chosen to ignore this, Mumbo seems to have forgotten he was angry, and Jimmy is satisfied that he got revenge.

Ren buys his friends

Ren bought Gem and Tangos friendship through iron. Will this hold up? No.

Gem has beef with team oblivious

Gem hates Pearl and Impulse this season. They are at the top of her inevitable murder list.

● The Final Girls came round for a visit

● Impulse was accused of stealing

● He said he wouldt stela since he knows what it's like to be stolen from

● Gem took this as him amusing her of stealing

● Scott cut him off before he could explain himself by saying he was purposely antagonising them

● Gem cut both of them off by ranting about how much she doesn't trust them

Stellar miscommunication guys, great job as always. Please never change, the series would be way less funny if you did.

Pearl also made it worse by trying to Poison Gem 30 minutes later. Woopsie.

Neither Pearl nor Impulse notice that Gem hates them and the others refuse to tell them.

[nymphia-tarot]

Your first date with them 🌸 [PAC]

pile 1 ----> pile 2

pile 3 ----> pile 4

Paid readings ($2.99)

🌸 meditate on the pics and pick whichever one calls to you the most. you might feel drawn to more than one pile, which means you may have messages in other piles for you as well! if you don't feel particularly drawn to any pile, the messages in this reading might not be intended for you. since this is a general reading, take what resonates! 🌸

🌸 Pile 1:

I'm getting that this date is something that was a long-awaited thing. Like you or your person might have been planning or dreaming of this for quite a while. You might have met this person at a very crucial time of your life, almost as if the stars aligned perfectly at that moment, and they've been fairly impactful to you. Maybe you met them at school/uni or somewhere relevant to your educational field. This is a person that has been overall pretty important to you in your life, for maybe some sort of karmic lesson, and your connection has been fated to occur.

Pile 1, this is someone you're carefully considering as a serious option. And I feel like the date is a way for you to determine the course of your future with them. A lot of individuals who picked this pile are independent thinkers with a discerning judgement on people. Lots of sapiosexuals too. You want someone to match you at your level and it seems like the date between you two will be a very stimulating experience. The two of you will have a lot of deep conversations and get to know each other better at an intellectual and philosophical level.

There's a good chance of this relationship ending up in marriage for a lot of you. A proposal or offer from your partner. However, I feel like the future of the relationship isn't really that good? Like you're both very fine people but after a while the initial passion and spark would just die down, making the relationship feel very stagnant. Some of you might even stay and do your best to make it work even though it really isn't working. I'm also getting the possibility of cheating for some? If the worst happens, I feel like the best thing to do is to let go and give yourself freedom.

🌸 Pile 2:

Maybe a lot of yall in pile 2 have a tendency to get lowkey delusional when it comes to matters of love. Like getting infatuated and idealising the other party, mostly living in fantasy and maybe you guys read way too much love tarot. I'm seeing a lot of you guys won't really go in with a clear head for this date overall. Hampered intuition, reading too much into lines, limerence, etc. When you actually do get to date your person I'm seeing that it'll finally ground you and make you see them for who they really are and evaluate your own feelings and the future of this relationship from a more realistic lens.

Maybe a lot of you guys' partner here is rich or at least financially stable or abundant. They may even have generational wealth. You guys are going to get spoilt on your date though. Lavished materially, lowkey sugar daddy/mommy vibes, etc. You guys might go to a really fancy place and enjoy a luxurious date with them. However, there's a chance there's a sort of power imbalance in the end, like maybe they're someone who is on a more powerful position systematically or in any other way, they have power over you. I'm getting it's mostly financially though for most of you guys.

Overall, you might end up feeling disillusioned from your previous notions and expectations in this date and they might feel restricted or caged in some way by how you view them. It's like they'll realise that the idea you have of them in your mind does not represent who they are. You might even end up having conflicting views/mentalities.

🌸 Pile 3:

I feel like this is a connection thats mostly fueled by physical attraction/lust which is passionate, fiery and can be all-consuming. You might have been in a bit of a slump before the date occurs and I'm getting that one or both you felt unfulfilled by the current situation of your relationship/where you stand with each other. Maybe the relationship you guys have is something that's a bit unconventional so it can get tough.

It seems like the date will end up in heartbreak for one or both you in some way. I'm getting a serious breach of trust and breaking a promise or vow you had made to each other. It can either end in a break up or continuing to nurture a tattered/unfulfilling relationship. For most of you the one who betrayed the other is your partner in this relationship. Maybe you've wanted to be official with them for a while only to have the devastating realisation that it's not feasible to happen.

After this date, your feelings for your person might dull down or even fade completely. You might get your joys shattered and end up deciding that happiness for you doesn't lie here. As for your person, I'm ngl they seem very physically-driven. They might be trapping you in some way in this relationship in a way that isn't healthy. Like, even if you're unhappy, your person doesn't see it and continues to thrive and take and take while keeping you constrained, not letting you break free of unhealthy cycles. Their feelings for you are mostly lust.

🌸 Pile 4:

The dynamic/relationship between you two might be kinda slow-moving and the lowkey. Maybe you both took a long time to ask each other out finally and was in a sort of stalemate before deciding to go "screw it, you only live once" and shooting your shots. Since it feels like something that happens more haphazardly and on impulse, the date might be slightly awkward for you guys. One or both of you may stumble over your words a lot or kinda not know what to do. This feels kinda frustrating yet adorable from an outside perspective and there might be a lot of internal cursing involved lol.

However, once you actually get through it, you'll realise it really wasn't that bad and overall end up quite fulfilled and happy. At the end, the date might actually go pretty well despite the initial awkwardness once you get the hang of it. If you guys do continue with your relationship, it might actually lead to a lot of growth and development for both of you. I'm also sensing that there's a lot of travel involved? Maybe you guys are from different cultures or cities, etc.

You might be the more composed and rational one during this date and be lowkey analysing everything. Virgo vibes. You might end up intimidating your person a bit lol. Your person on the other hand is full of anxiety and nervousness and it might be more visible on their end lol.

[hatsukeii]

冬に死ぬの方がいい (I'd rather die in the winter) / denji x reader

genre(s): strangers to friends to lovers??? not fully lovers yet because it’s at the end so it's like kinda ambiguously romantic ig, angst with a not too angst ending!! hurt/comfort SO heavy on the hurt/comfort omg... also despite the tldr there is no death here like for the most part

warning(s): spoilers up to the end of public safety saga, canon divergent and timeline inaccurate at points because i haven't read csm in AGES, explicit depictions of SA and like near-death poverty because denji actually cannot catch a break um????? no explicit nsfw tho also not fully and completely proofread i will be editing as i go when i spot mistakes

wc: ~6.6k

tldr; dying in the winter doesn't seem so bad after all

Do you know what it feels like to die?

In the seventeenth winter of Denji’s life, he thinks he does, as the planks of termite-infested wood and sheets of metal collapse into his shed without warning in the dead of night, the blizzard of winter snow unrelenting in its advances. He dreams of the coldest winter he’s survived, a splinter of decayed, rotting wood knocking him awake from his half-slumber, before crumpled rubbish attacks him from all directions. His arms scramble around Pochita to hunch over his motionless, sleeping body as boulders of wood and rusted metal hammer at his back. Purpled, blistered fingers swat and claw at the rough patterns etched into the planks, skin ripping as Denji crawls into a foot of snow. 

In the seventeenth winter of Denji’s life, he curls up against his temporary home- the glass window of a convenience store, too afraid to enter. People come and go, crinkling bags of plastic shrugging into protective arms, parents tugging a little harsher at their children, who point and slobber at his ghastly figure, partners who hold each other’s waists a little closer as they pass.

“What a poor guy.”

“Fuck, that scared me.”

“Is that guy dying or something?”

Dying. Do they know what it feels like to die? 

Denji’s head is hung low when plastic wrap lands on the back of his skull. His fingers, frozen stiff, swipe at the glossy packaging, before a fleeting moment of warmth graces his frozen fingertips. He doesn’t look up to the sound of plastic ripping, or to the hand that slips a heat pack into his arms. He doesn’t look up when someone kneels to his level, and his vision trains further into the ground when they offer him half of a steaming red bean bun in a paper packet beside his body, their eyes peeking through the gap between his knees. 

“Sorry, that’s all I have.” 

He doesn’t make a sound when a bottle is twisted open, doesn’t move when they grab his hands and begin trickling water from their thermos onto his fingers. He only winces as the blisters begin to thaw, steaming as the remnants of wet snow melt beneath his feet. 

“I hope we never meet again.”

Denji only looks up as you turn to depart the store, etching into his mind the person that moves further from him with each step, and the eyes that meet his own, but only between his knees, and the fleeting touch that may have just saved him that night, in the seventeenth winter of his life. The person who had to see his shrivelled, curled up figure, and had to feed his dried, crusted mouth with half a red bean bun that still sits on the ground beside him, and had to touch his bleeding, puss-filled, blistering fingers to thaw them.  

He too thinks he would rather die in the cold of this winter than meet you again.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Die, Denji does, but only in the eighteenth spring of his life, when the blisters on his fingers have scarred into hardened skin, and he has found himself a new shed to spend his nights in. He dies with a chainsaw cord through his chest, and it’s a million times less painful than he once believed, at least until the dying pump of Pochita in his heart almost begs for mercy. Suddenly, his chest feels just a little too heavy, and he realises he’s never known how warm blood was until it drowns him in pools of sticky, metallic red. When two strong arms reach out to hold his collapsing body, he’s sure that he knows what it feels like to die. Denji’s limp figure hangs motionless in your grasp, and you frown at the mess of dried blood that paints his toothed head in specks of brown. This is not somewhere safe for him.

Denji opens his eyes with his head in someone’s lap, bumpy roads jolting him awake from his unconsciousness. He stares into the back of the front passenger seat, warm fabric beneath his cheeks as he inhales the air freshener of the car and raises his hands to his eyes. The hardened skin of his fingers seems to have scabbed and fallen off, leaving him with hands more akin to that of a teenager. A normal teenager. He senses something else, something toying with his matted strands of golden hair. Fluttering touches stir and spread on his scalp, a whole palm nuzzling into the top of his head and eliciting a satisfied sigh from his lips. 

“We’ve got another hour to go. Sleep more if you need to.”

There it is, the voice that haunts him in his sleep and chases him in his waking hours. The voice that tells him he did a good job after every hunting gig, snickers with him when he cheats the yakuza out of a sleazy hundred yen coin, lulls him to sleep at night with the promise of bread, and butter, and honey, even some jam. The voice that he remembers all too well, and can’t seem to run from, no matter how hard his mind races. 

His mind freezes, but his body betrays him as his head turns in your direction, vision meeting the full face that hid behind the cover of his knees on that winter day, when he swore he knew how it felt like to die. He once envisioned his death to be silent, frozen in his final breaths into the winter sky. Then, he thought of it as a mess of red, putrid blood flooding his orifices as he drowns in a dumpster of sliced up human remains. Now, by some miracle, he lies in the lap of a familiar stranger, staring back at their gaze that remains unchanged from the one they shot at him between his reddened, shrivelled legs, exactly one hundred and fifty four days ago.  

Denji isn’t completely sure if he knows what dying feels like anymore.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

There is vomit in Denji’s mouth. There are mouthfuls of grainy, soured bile that barge through Denji’s lips as he sits on the ground of a restaurant, arms pulled into his chest. Himeno’s grip on his jaw is unshakeable, no matter how hard he thrashes and gargles, doing anything he can to separate himself from her. She pulls him closer to her as she continues spewing all the food she’s consumed throughout the day into his throat, and his eyes dart toward you, who grimace in disgust at the horrific scene that ensues before your very eyes. 

Do you know what it feels like to die while still breathing?

Denji wants to die. He wants nothing more, than to really die here on the ground, somebody else’s vomit spilling from the corners of his mouth. Yet the way your eye twitches at his pathetic attempts to free himself, and the wandering of your gaze between Himeno, who just refuses to let go, and Denji, who can’t seem to force her off, sends him to the depths of hell before he’s even lost consciousness. There is no empathy in your gaze, only disgust. Denji once thought that having to touch his frostbitten, rotting body in the winter was the most shameful thing that he could put you through. He thinks this is tenfold worse. He glues his eyes shut, praying for this all to be over, and just misses the slam of your soda can into the wooden table, and the shuffling of your feet towards the combined bodies of himself and Himeno. The weight of Himeno’s suffocating grip lightens, and Denji is just able to wriggle out of her grasp, before he’s falling again and his head hits the ground. 

You watch the pool of puke that spreads beneath Denji’s cheek, seeping into his hair and sticky with bile and spit. Himeno babbles on, half a jug of beer in hand, and eight empty ones in front of her. You wince, tugging at Denji’s sleeve. He is motionless, blacked out, and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest. How did he, of all people, end up here? You look around at the people that surround the table, all of which bear lines of jagged scar tissue beneath the rolled up cuffs of their shirt sleeves, across the skin of their faces, along their huffing chests. You touch the scar on your shoulder through your shirt, scratching at it through the fabric. The itch does not fade, gradually becoming more and more intangible, yet so obviously present. This is not a place for people like Denji, or you, or anybody with half a will to live. If eighteen years of training and living under the public safety sector has taught you anything, it is that you never want to be near this place. You did not save Denji’s life last winter for him to let something as wretched as this line of work ruin it once again. You did not reminisce about him on the way home, half a red bean bun in hand, praying that he might find solace in this perverted world, only to have him return to the root of all things depraved. You did not scream for three days straight, the speech devil clawing open the skin of your esophagus at every breath you took, just to watch him jump into the stomach of another devil, giving up whatever little shred of sanity he had left. 

Your hands come up to form shapes, fingers twisting and jabbing at each other in sentences of sign. 

Makima, should I take him home with me to Aki’s?

“I’ll taaaaaaaake him…!” 

For somebody who is clearly far gone, Himeno is quite perceptive of what others around her are planning. Makima smiles, waving you off, and you frown. Grabbing your soda, you leave the restaurant without a word. Nobody else follows.

In the eighteenth spring of Denji’s life, he wakes up in a bed for the first time. His body sinks into the soft, linen sheets that cover the plush mattress, and there’s a weight that sits comfortably above his chest. He isn’t sure what it is, yet it wraps around his sweaty body like a cloud, threatening to lull him into slumber against the midnight that settles in a blanket of blue and ribbons of silver through lidded blinds. He does not want to die here. For once, Denji decides that he will bask in the rare warmth of a quilt on his chest, and the smoothness of silky fabric beneath his arms, his body finally relaxing after eighteen years of endless running, reluctant hunting, cold slumber on planks of wood and chewed up, moulding mattresses. That is, until, a familiar body crawls onto him from where his feet lie.

“Hey… Denji.” He freezes, the bed transforming into a bed of nails and pinning him down like needles that stab through fragile, fluttering wings of butterflies on framed planks of wood.

“Wanna sleep with me?” Himeno’s hand comes up to hold Denji’s cheek, creeping impossibly close to his flushed chest. 

This is what he wanted, right? Every night, as Pochita drifted to sleep on Denji’s shrivelled chest, he would tell him that getting laid would be the greatest honour of his life, wouldn't he?

But Denji wants to scream and cry, until his throat goes hoarse and his ribs crack under the pressure from the sheer exertion of his lungs. Himeno comes even closer now, and he can smell the bitter beer and putrid puke that laces her mouth. He doesn’t move. He can’t move. He can’t speak either, as her lips begin to pepper across his face, and along the shaft of his neck. Her kisses send his throat in a frenzy, panicked wheezes and groans vibrating into her mouth as she takes his Adam's apple in an open-mouthed kiss. He can’t breathe, and his legs won’t move to save him as her saliva dribbles down his neck, into his frantically heaving chest. Denji is frozen in place as Himeno peels off her sheer shirt, and he almost chuckles dryly, the concussion from before throbbing at the side of his skull. Safety? Comfort? A roof over his head, a house that won’t collapse even from the strongest of winds, a place to sleep in that won’t end up twisting his back? How audacious. Who is he kidding?

Denji thinks he should have just chosen to die when he woke up in this bed. 

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The day that Makima catches wind of Denji’s incident with Himeno is the day that he is moved to Aki’s residency. At the click of a key turning in a lock, you walk out of your room groggily to see a figure in the dark, who drops a half-empty duffel bag onto the ground at the doorway. Denji shrugs backwards as you flick the lights on, arms coming up to cover his eyes. The flat is warm, smells that he doesn’t know wafting into his twitching nose as he removes his hands from his vision to look around. You stare at Denji, who wanders around the kitchen counter, eyes searching every surface for something, anything. 

“We have leftover curry, if you want it.”

There’s that familiar voice again, calling out to him, offering him food, and safety, and a roof over his head. He turns to you, and you nudge your head towards the fridge, hands in the pocket of your hoodie. His eyes are bloodshot, and he doesn’t make a sound, or say a word. He simply glides towards the fridge, pulling it open and rummaging the racks for a plate of leftover curry rice. The clanks and clinks of glass dishes on plastic stirs the Hayakawa residence awake, Power swinging the door to your shared room wide open as the handle slams into the wall with a thud. Aki’s room remains closed, but you hear an abrupt hiccup from the other side of the door.

“What is this thing doing here! Why is it taking my food!”

“He needs food, Power. Plus, it’s not even yours. Go back to sleep.”

“No!”

Power huffs, and you forcefully shove her into the room, shutting the door behind you and flicking the lights back off. Denji unwraps cling wrap from the dish, balling it in his fist and tossing it aside as he searches for a spoon, metal utensils clashing against each other in wooden cabinets as his impatient fingers sift through forks, and knives, and chopsticks. Upon finding one, he travels to the couch, where you are sitting with your legs manspread lazily. The black screen of the television reflects the two of you on the couch; Denji’s tired arms reeling spoonfuls of cold curry and meat into his mouth, and you watching him eat, hands clasped and elbows propped up on your thighs. He lets each bite linger on his tongue for a little longer than it has to, savouring this new sensation of proper food in his mouth. Then, he wipes his mouth on his rolled-up sleeve, and sniffles at the realisation that his stomach is no longer throbbing and growling dully.

“Do you want to sleep?”

Denji doesn’t respond. He thinks you have hidden away the last two words to that question. He would rather die than hear confirmation of it.

“You can take my bed if you want. I can take the sofa for now.”

He doesn’t get up from the couch. Instead, he drops the spoon onto the empty plate, and feels his body tip sideways. His head lands in your lap again, the same way it did in the company car, on the day that he died for the first time. Your arms shoot up to accommodate him, body tensing as his hair hits your leg. He sighs, small snores eliciting from his nose as he passes out on you, still clad in his work suit. You tug the windsor knot of his tie loose, before running your fingers through his blonde locks, and rolling your head back over the edge of the couch. You can only take a guess at what happened with Himeno the night before that rendered him so unresponsive. So unlike the brash, boisterous version of him that beamed at Himeno’s offer of a french kiss, before having puke forced into his mouth. You cringe at even the thought of it, taking note of Denji’s little hums in his slumber, limp arms hanging off the couch and feet dangling off the edge. Swiping a thumb across his lip, you collect the curry that remains around his mouth, and he jolts unconsciously in his sleep, before relaxing against you again. Wind whistles past the glass windows of the living room, and it’s almost as if Denji shivers at the sound of coldness, even if it is blocked by the four walls that surround him. Your hand on his head moves to cradle his jaw, which shifts periodically as he breathes in, and breathes out. You hope that he can stay like this forever.

Another hiccup sounds from Aki’s room, Power kicks and flails at blankets in muffled thumps.

You bring your other hand to your mouth, parting your lips against your thumb to take a first taste of the untouched plate of curry that was supposed to be your dinner.  

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

“She even touched my shoulder! My shoulder, guys!”

On a windy night of Denji’s eighteenth autumn, he beams at the dinner table, grains of rice spewing from his stuffed mouth as his chopsticks wave and swing in the air. He hits you in the face, a piece of limp spinach slapping onto your cheek from his utensils, and Power screeches, jagged teeth bared in her maniacal laughter. You side eye him, picking the vegetable off your face and silently shoving more rice into your mouth. You’ve noticed the skip in Denji’s step upon his return to the Hayakawa residence, the dusty blush that lines his cheeks as he grabs at the fabric of his shirt around the shoulders, and sniffs it, the bashful giggles he gives himself when he waves you off for asking him what’s got him in such a good mood. Knowing your line of work, that won’t last, no matter how hard you try to speak it into existence. 

“Yeah, she touched your shoulder. We get it.”

“No no no, you don’t. I think she likes me! Like, really likes me!”

Denji slams his hands onto the coffee table now, shooting up to defend his proclamation of love on behalf of some random girl. You sigh, opting for a piece of beef from the plate in front of you. On your tongue is soft meat, savoury sauce, sour, putrid dread. Aki shoots you a glance from across the table. He watches your eyes widen for just a glimpse of a second, and nods, a mutual understanding clearly reached between you two. You take a fistful of Denji’s shirt, yanking him back down to ground level, and he pouts as you shove bundles of spinach and ladles of sauce into his bowl. He bites his thumb, gnawing and nibbling as his chopsticks pick aimlessly at his meal.

“Stop biting your finger, Denji. That’s gross.” You grab his wrist and pull his thumb out of his mouth.

“Nah, I made a promise to Makima.”

“Makima?”

Aki chews on his rice silently at your question. Denji stares at his nail, jagged and peeling from biting on it constantly. 

“She’s the one for me. That’s why she told me to remember how it feels when she bites my thumb.”

At that, your palm makes contact with the back of his head, knocking it forward. Denji wheezes, the wind knocked out of his windpipe at your sudden attack. Aki shovels individual grains of rice into his mouth, clearing his bowl. Power joins in your antics, hands chopping at his body even after you’ve stopped to glare at him. She gets bored of your inaction quickly, scratching her ass as she leaves the table for the shared room. Denji’s eyes are trained onto his bowl, the food looking less and less appetising by the second. 

“She did what?”

Denji stretches his palm in front of his face, inspecting it as if it was some antique object. His chest sinks, feeling your eyes burn holes into the side of his head. Makima promised him love, and sex, and everything he has ever wanted. He isn’t sure why it seems so wrong to you. You once told him you wanted him to find someplace safe, no? Where do you think he would be, if not for Makima bringing him in on that fateful spring day?

“Well, she let me cop a feel because she cares about what I want. Even said she’d grant me any wish if I got the gun devil.”

“She does not care about you, Denji!”

Denji scowls, hands waving erratically as he searches for his words. Aki leaves for the kitchen sink silently, the sound of running water serving as a backdrop to your wordless fury. You slam your hands onto his shoulders, shaking him back and forth. His eyes meet yours, and he sees something that Makima, that other girl from today, Himeno, Power, Aki, none of them have shown him before. Desperation. Fear. Worry. 

“You know what? Go back to that girl you met in the phone booth. Do what you want, just don’t get me roped into your shit. And remember, I told you so.”

You shove him away, retreating into the shared room. That night, Denji sleeps on the couch instead of you. He doesn’t think about the girl from the phone booth, or Makima. He dreams about the day that you thawed his frostbitten fingers outside a convenience store, the day that had him thinking he knew what it meant to die, but really had no grasp on it. 

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Denji learns the taste of flowers in the eighteenth autumn of his life, when he shoves an entire bouquet of them into his mouth in a cafe. The petals turn into mush on his tongue as he chews and swallows them. He waits for some girl that tried to bite his tongue off and murder him two days ago, sitting alone on a bar seat in a bustling coffee shop. Stares and murmurs ensue behind his back, couples and friends alike glancing at his pathetic figure that waits for a fabricated promise, flowers stuffed in his mouth. He tastes the bitterness of the flowerbuds, the type of bitterness that seeped through his veins when she kissed him, and ripped his tongue from his mouth. The type of bitterness that he can’t seem to fully carry, even after she tried to blow him up. The type of bitterness that is covered by the sweetness of flora, which somehow still makes its way through to his sinuses. Like recollections of how she showed him how to swim, laughed at his awful jokes, taught him to read and write, and turned all shades of red and pink at his flirtations. Rose-tinted recollections of a military trained spy, whose very purpose was to blush on command, laugh on command, lure him into emotional investment, before biting his tongue off, slashing his wrists open, and ripping his heart out of his chest. 

He doesn’t like the way these flowers taste. He throws the half-eaten bouquet onto the ground of the cafe, and pushes his way out of the shop. 

When Denji returns home, you are squeezing whole bottles of throat medicine into your mouth on the living room sofa. He points at his throat, and pretends to pull a pin from his neck. You nod, clawing at the air around your throat. He shoots you a thumbs up, unsure what to say as he faces the consequences of his fortunate victory against the bomb hybrid from the night before. You wave him off, eyes never meeting him as you mouth, it’s fine, I’ll be good. From across the living room, he catches the blood that coats your entire bed of teeth, the dark, deadly shade of crimson splattered across your lips. He hears your screams again, and again, and again, as he stands in the doorway. Blood curdling commands coming one after the other, he can almost feel his throat rip open with every word, taste the blood that you cough up after finishing the bottle of throat medicine. 

Walking towards the couch, he plops down beside you, his weight creating a dip in the soft fabric. You pretend to pull a pin at your throat, and point at Denji, who sighs hopelessly. You falter, brows furrowing at his disappointment. For the weeks leading up to today, Denji had not removed himself from Reze- some unknown girl he met in a telephone booth. He had beamed about his advances to you- namely regurgitating a saliva coated flower from his mouth magically, and you had listened patiently, fists gripped by your sides. He told you he wanted to run away with her, after all this mess and carnage was over, only for her to become the root of another senseless massacre. Your hands move to form shapes, sign language that Denji has picked up on throughout the past months of living and working alongside you. His skills are scarce, yet he just makes out what you are asking.

Beach, girl, run?

He shakes his head, back hunching in defeat. She didn’t care about his heart, only the Chainsaw devil’s. Even her blushes and laughs were rehearsed to perfection. 

“She didn’t show up to the cafe anyways.”

You frown, hitting Denji’s chest with the back of your palm, eyes still not meeting his own. He bites his thumb, and you slap his hand away from his mouth without even looking. Signing furiously, your fingers contort into a flurry of shapes. Shapes that Denji can barely decipher, but understand just enough to feel your disdain. 

No biting… unbelievable. Makima, Reze. Gross... 

Denji smiles weakly, wiping his thumb on his blood-stained uniform. Your teeth are bared until the tips of your canines just peek through the opening of your lips, before you retract them and gnaw your bottom lip meekly. He takes in the corners of your worried eyes and irked brows, and he thinks that even Pochita feels a little guilty in the way that his chest seems to beat agonisingly with every pang, like a nail burying itself into his heart at each pump. You punch his shoulder, finally taking a good look at his haggard figure, before reaching for another bottle of medicine and twisting the cap open with a click. You gargle and cough at each swallow, splatters of blood spitting into a white tissue from your throat at each sound you make. Suddenly, Denji wishes he didn’t throw the flowers away at the coffee shop. Maybe a few petals could ease the pain too, because he’s sure it’s the petals he ate that are making him feel a blooming warmth in his chest right now.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Plus, you saved my life out there yesterday. So, thanks.”

You smile at him with your lips pursed, and Denji hopes that he doesn’t die before you find your voice again.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

In the beginning of Denji’s eighteenth winter, he slashes a chainsaw through Makima’s body. He watches her cut up, mutilated organs fall to the ground, throwing the chainsaw next to them. There is no pity, or rage, or overwhelming sadness. All he can do is stare, coated head to toe in her blood. He takes her skin, and bones, and organs in a plastic bag, inhales blood that smells akin to rat shit and bile. He walks into a new apartment, devoid of the Hayakawa name that was once engraved into the tin mailbox of his old home. It is empty, no one greets him on the couch as he walks in. 

He throws the bag of remains onto the counter of his new kitchen, bought with the money left in Aki’s will. He’s sorry, he thinks, because he doesn’t feel anything right now. Not anger, not worry, not fear. Aki is dead. Power is dead too. He should feel something, at the very least for you, who was wheeled onto an ambulance as he picked up the remains of Makima with his bare hands. 

Denji eats dinner alone at his new coffee table, also bought with the money from Aki’s will. He shuts his eyes, and pretends that Power is bickering with him. He can almost hear her frenzied shouts, feel her hands slap his back, and his head, and his chest. Aki should be sitting across the table, sipping his tea mindlessly, or lighting a cigarette and filling the room with nicotine. He shoves Makima’s flesh into his mouth, swallowing without so much as chewing on it. The idea that he is shovelling human flesh into his stomach while fully human makes his skin crawl and stomach flip. He wants to throw up. His eyes water at the grooves and fibres in the meat that etch themselves into his tongue. 

He squeezes shut his eyes even harder now, instead envisioning you beside him. You, who force strings of vegetables into his meals at dinner. You, who speak only when needed, and rarely in sentences that drag on for more than you deem the need to, and showed him how to live on with half a red bean bun and a thermos. He has never known the curves of your body like the rest of his prospects, never thought to try and learn them either. He doesn’t know of your past, or your present either, really. 

Despite that, you know the shrivelled figure of his past, his habit of thumb biting, his fear of sharing a bed, his disdain for spinach over any other vegetable. And when you spat at him, I told you so, you were right. Himeno wanted him to fuel some petty, one-sided feud. Reze ripped his tongue out of his mouth, only to apologise, before snapping his neck and leaving him in the dust. Makima, the one who swore to give him sex, and love, and safety, and purpose, everything he could have ever wanted, binded him in a dog’s collar so he could watch as she tore Power in half from the torso. All Power wanted was to give him a cake. 

You confuse him to no end, but something sits between the two of you for certain. Something that shrouds his heart in a warm glow, one that almost calls out at him to keep it there. A glow that creeps up to his mouth when you can’t speak, threatening to spill out of his lips and into yours so he can heal you, for once. But the glow always seems to turn into poison that leaks back down his throat. He swallows his words, bites his lip, bites his own fingers. He doesn’t know how it feels to die, only because you’ve shielded him from it all along.

The remains of Makima have been consumed. Denji throws the plates and bowls into the sink carelessly, his chopsticks following suit. When he swings open his cabinet to two new boxes of throat medicine, he can’t help but stare at his purchase. He really only had you in mind when he filled the cabinets of his new apartment with the only familiar thing a grocery store could offer. Maybe he should give you a visit soon.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

In the eighteenth winter of Denji’s life, you learn that he is afraid of living. Your backs against the sheets of your hospital bed, the two of you stare at the ceiling light that blinks periodically, just as it has for the past week that you’ve been here for. Its flickers have gradually become more erratic than the days before. You stare at the familiar cracks that spread from beneath the light bracket towards the rest of the ceiling, arms behind your head. 

“Does it still hurt to talk?”

“Just a bit.”

He hums in understanding, continuing his aimless staring. The hospital television whirs in static and vague sounds of people speaking behind the two of you, and you shift in place, the bed sheets wrinkling and shuffling beneath your body. 

“Can I tell you something?”

You nod wordlessly.

“I’m starting to think I can’t live anymore. Like this whole devil thing has made me less…human, I guess.”

“Why?”

Denji clicks his tongue, hissing a sharp inhale through his teeth. 

“I don’t really see the point in touching tits, or having sex anymore, you know? Like, all those things that I thought I wanted so badly, they didn’t make me feel how I wanted to. But then, I’m not sure how to live. Shouldn’t I live so someone can love me? Is that not what everyone lives for?”

You glance at him, the messy blonde hair that presses into the mattress, lousily tucked white shirt that creases around the waist, eyes that once were zealous turned tired, unfeeling. You pull one hand out from beneath your head, the one that doesn’t have an IV drip attached to your index finger. It travels to Denji’s crossed arms, untangling them from each other so you can grab at his hand. His fingers are unresponsive until you give him a squeeze, then another, then a third, and they finally relax against your own. He turns, meeting the eyes that peeked through his knees in his seventeenth winter. Eyes that look at him with worry, whether he is sitting at a dinner table, beaming about some girl whose flirtations have blinded his rationality, or if he is curled up against the glass door of some convenience store at midnight, breath stagnant and frozen in the winter air. 

“Do you think they loved you, Denji?”

His vision travels to the mattress beneath him. He thinks they did, or maybe they didn’t, or it was somewhat in between love and indifference, or whatever that’s supposed to feel like.

“I don’t know. They all wanted chainsaw man’s heart. But nobody wanted mine, you know? Nobody ever wanted Denji’s.”

You give his hand another squeeze, and he feels another pang in his chest. This is what it feels like to die, Denji thinks. Not blood gushing from his chest, or being frozen solid as people walk past his crouched body, but knowing that his efforts to become worthy of appreciation have only amounted to being used for his power. This is what it feels like to die, a hollow boy with nothing left in his chest but a devil that pumps blood for him. Even his heart is a contract that he has to follow. 

“I didn’t save you a year ago today for you to think that, Denji.”

Your weak elbows try to prop your body up to look at him from above, before they collapse back into the mattress and elicit a hiss of pain from your mouth. It’s by some miracle that you’re even alive right now, and that your throat has healed enough to make out short sentences. Short proclamations like this, that you’ve waited so long to make. Denji catches your fall, a palm cushioning your elbow. His hand is still in yours as he shifts to look at you properly. 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to know?”

He opens his mouth, and his scrambled words get caught in his throat. So, he nods, the bags beneath his eyes relaxing. You let go of his hand, instead running your fingers along his chest and laying your palm flat on his heart. It beats in rhythmic thumps, steadily pulsing on the lines of your hand. 

“What are you feeling right now?”

Denji’s mind is a jumbled mess, yet he can clearly tell what he is feeling. “Warm.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No.”

Your hands move to the back of his head, scratching and rubbing at his scalp with the pads of your fingers. Denji leans into your touch, eyes still trained onto your own. His heart continues to beat steadily, and he feels something building up around it. Something that has his breaths getting heavier, and his vision of you becoming even clearer than it already is. 

“What does this feel like?”

“Nice.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Your hand makes its advance to his cheek, cradling it gently. Dusty pink scatters across his face, and Denji has to remember to breathe. In, out, in, out. Your thumb swipes across the dark bag beneath his eye. He thinks this is bliss, so unlike the drooling, panting mess he used to be for Makima, or the bumbling, fake persona he played up for Reze. He is more sober than ever, and his hand hovers over your body. He doesn’t want to just cop a feel. He wants to touch every inch of skin that you inhibit, trace over whatever scars you might have accumulated from the trials of time, plant kisses wherever you want him to, whenever you want him to. 

“What does this feel like?”

“Can you stay like that?”

“Sure.”

He reaches for your wrist, holding onto it like a lost boy in a crowd. His fingers feel for smoothed scar tissue in your palm, around your knuckles, on your wrist. He pulls your hand away from his face to take a look at the lines that etch themselves into your skin, lips hovering just above your fingers.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod. He starts on the scar of your palm, one that you earned during a fight in the early days of your work. He kisses the fleshy scar that slashes across your hand, peppering along its length. 

“Can I keep going?”

“Yeah, keep going Denji.”

His head dips to the faint white lines that decorate your arm, from your wrist to the connection between your forearm and bicep. His hair tickles the sides of your arm as fluttering kisses plant themselves into each poisoned, torn open line of your skin. You squirm, hospital gown coming loose on one shoulder as the cool air of the room hits the scar that reaches from your shoulder to the dip between your collarbones. Denji notices, and pulls your arm away from him.

“Can I?”

You wince, the scar beginning to itch and throb.

“Please, do it.”

His fingers trace along the jagged scar, before he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, and moves along to the centre of the dip just above your chest. You roll your head back to give him space, and he kisses up your neck and onto your jaw. He’s inexperienced, nose bumping into your flesh when he comes up to look at you again. His eyes flicker to your lips, and you answer his question for him as you pull him into you. The glow in his heart rushes from his chest to his mouth, but his teeth bump into yours, and you pull away. It tastes like your blood, the blood that has saved his life more times than he can count as you rip your throat open for him. He wants to taste it again as much as you want him to.

“What does that feel like?”

Denji knows what it means to die now, but he thinks he’s starting to understand how to live too. If this day, in the eighteenth winter of his life, is what dying and being reborn feels like, he would rather die in the winter when his time comes.

“I think it feels like love.”

author's note:

guys this took SO LONG i really do not have what it takes to do a longfic in 2 days anymore after that tsukishima one... but im so proud of this tho like i had so much fun writing it and i love my baby boy denji so much omg also wishi i am so sorry it took this long to come out but i hope you like it sososoosososososos much

anyways tags!!

@wishi-selfships @staraxiaa @kuroppiii @akaakeis @iiwaijime @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @bailey-reeds @hiraethwa @catsoupki @wyrcan

[save-the-villainous-cat]

So what about a genius hero x street smart villain, maybe hero is a little awkward from being in the lab all the time but villain makes up for it by being able to pick up on hero’s body language? Kinda alone the lines of “they didn’t correct you to insult you, they were trying to be helpful”?

"Can you walk?"

"Y-yes, of course," the hero answered. But the villain wasn't fooled that easily. Obviously, they noticed the white-knuckled grip and the pale face. They noticed the unsteady gaze and the shaking hand. The five coffee mugs.

"I didn't bring you here to work yourself to death," the villain said. they crossed their arms in front of their chest, attempting to sound soothing.

It could be quite challenging to guess the hero's feelings. Kidnapping someone to work for them wasn't exactly...a promise for good cooperation. It wasn't ideal either but the villain barely knew what an Erlenmeyer flask was and they really needed the hero to research the disease.

"Being careless could cost you your life. This is pretty dangerous. If this virus can kill people with superpowers, I don't want to know what it can do to us."

"The average human immune system can destroy the virus, don't worry," the hero said. They closed their eyes and took in a deep breath. "People with superpowers are flawed, though. Their bodies need to come up with a lot of energy to conjure superpowers. Specialized cells create a nearly independent system on their own. But, you know, some parts of the body - of the vessel - don't get as much energy as they need. Organs are important, so...immune system it is. That's why a bunch of kids with superpowers die. There is barely any information on it yet, though."

"Do you need more...specimen?"

"No. No, I..." The hero pressed a palm against their temple. They looked angry, they looked frustrated. The villain supposed not getting proper sleep for days was an explanation for that.

"Okay, that's enough, I think."

"I am fine," the hero insisted.

"You are not fine." The villain took a step towards them. "I know you are working on this so you can find a way to kill supervillains, not superheroes. But right now the only person you are close to killing is yourself."

"What would you know about my work? I am fine, I am doing amazing."

The villain reached out to touch the hero's shoulder but the hero slapped their hand away weakly.

They knew the hero wasn't...particularly good with other people. Especially, when it came to work. For the most part, the villain understood why but they could barely understand why they insisted on working hard enough to forget basic self-care. It seemed like brilliance demanded stubborness.

"You're right. I don't know much about your work, but I do know a lot about behaviour. And your behaviour is unacceptable."

"Unacceptable? How dare-"

The villain grabbed their chin, shutting up the hero. They took a step forward, forcing the hero to press their lower back into the table.

The proximity surprised even the villain - they hadn't realised the hero was this close to the table.

And this close to the villain.

"Alright, listen," the villain said. Their voice was dangerously low. "Right now, I am your boss and you will do as I say. If I tell you to rest, you will rest. If I tell you to eat, you will eat. I don't care if you want to work 20 hours a day or if you want to finish one more test. I decide how much you work, got it?"

The villain's fingers dug into the hero's cheeks softly and they smiled when the hero frowned at that.

"You don't want me to start threatening you, do you?"

The hero rolled their eyes and then they just stared at the villain. Stared with those curious and tired eyes, as if the villain was another experiment they were interested in.

"You're actually quite adorable," the villain said. They squeezed the hero's cheeks again for good measure. "You can have my bed."

The villain let go of them and the hero blinked a few times. A soft blush decorated their face. And for some strange reason, the villain felt really warm and...satisfied inside.

"What about you?" the hero asked.

"I will take the couch."

"Absolutely not. Do you know how many bacteria colonies are on a couch?" They turned away from the villain and slowly started cleaning their workplace with shaky hands.

"Believe me, I will survive."

"Fine." The hero shrugged. "Your funeral."

"You're making this up, aren't ya?" The hero turned towards the villain again and even their ears had turned red.

"Do I look like I would lie about that sort of stuff?" they asked but they didn't meet the villain's eyes. It was quite funny but the villain didn't know if it was supposed to be a joke.

Usually, the hero only acted sassy when someone criticised their work, when they got annoyed or when they got embarrassed.

The villain guessed the latter was happening.

But whatever was the catalyst, it seemed like the hero was willing to rest and that was all the villain truly wanted.

"Ah, screw it." The villain waved with their hand, still smiling. "My bed is big enough for two, anyway."

"It, uh, better be."

[baeshijima]

u know what would be a cool genshin fic idea? isekai/transmigrated reader, but instead of appearing within the general timeline, you come into the genshin world 500 years prior to the start of the storyline in khaenri'ah.

honestly it could be either a little before the cataclysm, giving enough time to delve into some relationship building + explore some world building with characters like dainsleif, traveller's sibling (which would probably be lumine bc i actually do like her as abyss sibling & aether as traveller), and npcs like halfdan (still crying over him to this day ;w;) and possibly the khaenri'ahn royal guards (assuming you either join them or have a good enough relationship with them), OR it could be you appear during the crisis, completely and utterly lost as to why you were brought amidst the chaos and bloodshed as you watch everything you barely knew about this nation crumble before your very eyes.

either route will still result in reader's existential crises and constant "why am i here? just to suffer?" monologues because really, who would be fine after going through that after coming from /our/ world? and not to mention you've had to endure the next 500 years wandering with no real set path because you don't know this world— this era of teyvat or of genshin. you're merely stuck, unable to die, and forced to live a life of uncertainty with no clear direction for you to go to.

despite it all, you've at least been able to see dain during this course. while your meetings pass far too quickly for your lonesome, and his solemn demeanour is something you're yet to be accustomed to after having been with him before the fall of khaenri'ah (assuming it's the route where you appear before the cataclysm), you're glad to see a familiar face every now and then. after the messy departure with the lumine who left for the abyss order, you've come to appreciate his quiet presence more and more each time.

and then you decide it might be time to settle. you soon realise it's difficult to do so when your lifespan has become far more than that of a human's — of a mortal's — and so you find yourself becoming used to staying in one place for a few years before setting off for the next. rinse and repeat. over and over. it's come to a point where you've witnessed the nations undergo various changes each time you visit. you know change is inevitable, and yet your heart stings each time you witness it; a testament to how the world is ever-changing, yet you're stuck in place as a bystander.

one thing you're grateful for, however, are the bonds you've established amid your back-and-forth over the centuries. from archons like zhongli and venti to long-life beings such as neuvillette and the adepti to regular mortals who have showed you kindness as if one of their own... you've grown to cherish those memories, often reminiscing them when the nights get too long and surroundings too quiet. it was difficult at first, and still is, but you've become used to the inevitable change and the passing of those you once knew.

and after 500 years, you find yourself face-to-face with one you haven't seen since before you appeared in this world; the protagonist of this world, and the one you eventually join in hopes of finally finding a means to an end, aether.

little side notes/extras:

from /our/ world, you would probably know the storyline from up to around current (5.0) or maybe a little after the fontaine aq conclusion. it gives a lot to work with, but you definitely won't remember a lot of the lore after so long other than some main events, especially since most of your knowledge is pretty irrelevant for the next 500 years,,,

i think it would be cool if you had an inteyvat on your person as a little homage of khaenri'ah, which may or may not invoke some opinions from certain characters (*cough* aether immediately being reminded of lumine and having an existential crisis *cough*)

post-cataclysm you would go through a, uhm, long phase of helplessness, wondering why you were even brought to this world so far back if you couldn't even make any contributions. it does eventually morph into a resolution to do what you can to help those you come across if it's within your capabilities, but the nightmares and helplessness come back every now and then as a reminder for what you can't do :D yippee :D

honestly i'm on the fence whether you would have a vision or some other type of abilities (think on the similar lines of aether/lumine's and dain's), but i think having some type of purification mechanic would be a must in your arsenal !! would definitely lead to some moments between you and characters like dain or zhongli who suffer from the erosion as you give them a slight reprieve from what rages within and corrodes them

a little self indulgent, but i'd like to think your first /proper/ meeting with zhongli happens during a lantern rite festival, wherein you're admiring the lanterns in the sky after making a wish of your own and he comes up from behind with "they're beautiful, wouldn't you say so?" and !!

also as for love interests, as much as i would love for human/mortal characters, a part of me feels like this story would be better suited for the immortal/long-life characters as love interests?? idk i feel like considering that 500 years is, well, a long time, the bonds you would have with them compared to characters like, say, alhaitham or diluc would be way too different ?? though i would definitely still add them as love interest bc i am a sucker for so many of the human characters ;w; it would also add to the angst and hurt/comfort ahahha...

anyway thank you for reading this massive brain dump of a fic bc i absolutely would put this as a long term project, and if u made it this far then i would like to say that dain solos—

[unabletomakedecisions]

I don't know where to talk about this but I need to talk with SOMEONE about how NPMD has an ongoing theme (I think it's a theme?) of people getting a taste of what they always wanted before it is stolen from them and they die.

[MASSIVE SPOILERS]

Max thought the nerds actually cared about him and were willing to do something nice for him out of their own free will.

And then he fell and realised the nerds didn't care about him, they only wanted to hurt him (although they didn't actually want to kill him).

Richie finally became friends with the popular footballers (is it football? I'm Australian idk) and they told him they liked + needed him.

And then Max called out and made Richie think they were bullying him again, then told him that he'll always be a loser.

Ruth got her moment on stage and hit that amazing high note, proving to herself that she could be a lead at a musical theatre and be the star of the show.

And then Max booed her, which essentially told her that she could never be good enough to do it, and he killed her before she could ever perform in front of an audience.

Steph's dad and his assistant don't fit this, but they're not main characters.

Pete finally asks Stephanie out for the dance and she says yes, fulfilling both of their hopes for each other's love.

And then... If Max hadn't stopped the bullet, Pete would've died knowing he could never be with Steph, and Steph would have lived on in sadness. And if Grace hadn't called Max away and tricked him, then they both would have died with the knowledge that they failed to save the person they loved most and would never be with them.

In giving up her chastity, Grace stops the cycle from repeating with Steph & Pete, and instead forces Max to die again. Max doesn't actually lose what he wanted most with his second death, because Grace substitutes her want (to become holy again and to have this never haunt her again) for one of his wants (to have sex with Grace).

I don't know if I'm onto something here, if I'm being crazy, or if someone else has already noticed it.

[mulloey]

innocents • yunho

it’s easy to forget you’re his prisoner

warnings: criminal!yunho, mentioned sex trafficking (but it’s in the context of him Not doing it), mentioned murder, reader is held against her will but nothing is done to her without consent, her shitty boyfriend pimped her out kind of and yunho’s not about that but he is Not a good dude in this, dom yunho, implied drugging (alcohol), implied physical punishment, other than the *implications* this is actually pretty tame. also san is yunho’s goon lol

this doesn’t represent yunho, ateez or my perception of them in any way. don’t like, don’t read:) please comment if you enjoyed!

—————

The first time you met Yunho, you were a payment. Your stupid, doofus boyfriend, thinking he was tough and smart enough to survive a life of crime, had gotten in too deep with the wrong people and found himself with a bounty on his head, pursued across the country until he was finally cornered in a dodgy part of Seoul. Dragged unceremoniously to Yunho’s office, he’d realised quickly who he was dealing with, and what was about to happen to him, and in a moment of desperation had offered you up instead. “Take my girlfriend,” he’d begged. “She’s at my house and she’s beautiful, you can have her. Just please don’t kill me.” And Yunho, disgusted that your boyfriend would offer you up like cattle but intrigued by the thought of you, had sent one of his men to pick you up.

You knew what your boyfriend had gotten involved with and you knew how spineless he was, so you weren’t surprised to see an armed man in your doorway, telling you to come with him if you wanted your boyfriend to live. You were more annoyed than anything else, but as much as you hated your boyfriend for selling you out like this, you didn’t want him to die, certainly not in the slow, painful way the man in your doorway had so graphically promised. So you followed, allowing yourself to be brought to a sprawling property on the other side of the city. When you were dragged into Yunho’s office, your coward of a boyfriend wouldn’t even meet your eye. But there was one person who couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The tall, dangerous looking man behind the desk.

He looked you up and down for a moment, ordering his man to turn you around so he could see the back of you, before nodding. “I accept your offer,” he told your boyfriend. “Leave her with me and don’t ever return to Korea, and I’ll wipe your debts and set you free. Understood?”

And without a moment's hesitation, your boyfriend agreed, thanking Yunho profusely for his generosity — for taking her instead of me. You could have attacked him if you weren’t surrounded by armed henchmen, but you were realising now that this pathetic little man wasn’t worth any more of your energy. So you let him scurry away with your back turned, eyes cast downwards to the floor.

The room was silent for a moment, tension in the air, until Yunho spoke. “If you’re wondering what I’m going to do to you, don’t worry,” he said. “I sell things, not people. Not women, at least. You’ll be safe here with me.”

You nodded, not really convinced before he ordered you closer to him. You shuffled forwards, as slow as you could before one of his men shoved you so hard you stumbled, landing on the solid wood of the desk.”

“San, you fucking idiot,” Yunho snapped, standing from his chair and rounding the desk to help you up. You looked you up and down and, satisfied you weren’t hurt, released his grip on you. “Your boyfriend’s lucky you’re such a beauty,” he said. “And so are you. Cus he’s not being fed to dogs right now, and I’m going to take much better care of you than he did.”

For some reason, maybe the sting and annoyance of the idiotic betrayal you’d just suffered, you believed him. Yunho would take care of you. He’d keep you safe. And you’d never be bounty again.

True to his word, Yunho was for the most part perfectly respectful. He didn’t touch or try anything with you without your permission, and he made certain none of his men did either, as made abundantly clear your second month under his care, when a low level fighter had cornered and felt you up, and Yunho, upon hearing about it, had summoned him to his office and, without a word, shot him between the eyes with his own gun.

The only time Yunho wasn’t so nice to you was the few attempts you’d made to escape. As much as he respected you as a person, he’d forgiven a lot of transgressions and missed out on an awful lot of money to have you, and he wasn’t going to let you go. And in the months (you think, time moves strangely in Yunho’s house) you’d been in his possession, he had by his own admission, developed feelings that gave him another reason to want to keep you with him.

After a few failed escape attempts and quite severe reprisals, he’d settled on another way to keep you pliant. With your previous boyfriend you’d gotten heavily into alcohol and as Yunho quickly realised, supplying you with it was a good way to keep you happy and obedient. And to keep you safe by his side, anything that worked was worth it.

You’re a few drinks deep when he comes into your room, taking a seat on your bed, eyes on you. You’re at your desk and facing him, fiddling absentmindedly with an empty glass.

“Come here.”

You feel dizzy, and not just because of the alcohol. You see the small knife in his hand, dwarfed by his massive palms. You know what those palms can do to you. You’ve tried everything to avoid finding out about the knife.

“Are you going to cut me?” You try to sound as afraid as possible, knowing it softens him — not because he feels bad for scaring you, but because he likes it. You’re such a good girl, he’d say, being so afraid of me. He thinks it’s sweet. It makes him happy. And you like when he’s happy.

His face is blank. “Why would I cut you?”

“The knife.”

His gaze flickers to it, then back to you. “Ah,” he says, smiling slightly. “This isn’t for you.”

“Did you hurt someone?” You ask softly.

“I’m going to,” he says. He puts the knife down on the bed, behind his back where you can’t see it. But now you know it’s there and you guess that was his intention. Your time with this man has taught you that nothing, nothing he does is an accident. “Come here.”

His tone is harder now, on the edge of anger. Since becoming his prisoner, as he hates when you call yourself, you’ve learned that Yunho does not like repeating himself — a lesson that has been painfully delivered to you more times than either of you would like. Not wanting another, you scurry over to him, stopping short of settling on his lap, because he hasn’t said you can touch him, and you know not to do it without his permission. Nothing without permission.

He smiles, recognising your obedience and pats his lap. “Sit.”

You settle yourself in your lap, heart still racing slightly, but the feeling of his warm hands on the small of your back always calms you. He strokes up and down your back, humming softly with his gaze fixed on you. “Have you been good today?” He asks.

You nod. “I have. Thank you for the drinks.”

He hums, running his thumb across your plush lips. He pushes it in slightly, letting you suck at the tip while his other fingers stroke your cheek. “I wanted to check on you,” he says quietly, “before I leave. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you say, smiling softly.

He narrows his eyes, studying your face for any signs of dishonesty, but you know better than to lie to him. You know that in less than a second, the soft, gentle touches on your back could turn hard, crushing and striking, and it informs every choice you make with him. He nods, apparently satisfied that you’re telling the truth, and presses a kiss to your lips. “Good girl,” he breathes.

You smile at the praise, out of relief as much as happiness. You’ve learned quickly that Yunho is very, very good at concealing his true feelings — a necessary skill for someone of his profession — so you never bank on him being satisfied with your behaviour until he confirms it himself. But today he is satisfied, and it fills you with relief. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Yunho smiles at you and pushes his thumb back into your mouth. Focused on the feeling, you don’t notice his other hand move from the small of your back to the top of your leg. The feeling of his hand on the sensitive bare skin of your thigh makes you jolt and he tuts, tightening his grip slightly. “Still,” he orders gently.

He lets his hand wander further up your leg, into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, dangerously close. Your breath hitches as his hand slowly approaches your most sensitive area. “Yunho,” you whisper, the desperation in your voice evident.

He smiles softly but shakes his head. “I don’t have time now, darling,” he says regretfully. “Just wanted to play with my baby a little before I go. Get her worked up and ready for when I’m back.”

The hand on your face moves to grip your thigh, holding you in place as the other pulls your tiny shorts to the side and presses a long finger into your hole. You gasp softly; it’s been a while since you’d started playing with Yunho like this, but you’ll never get used to his size, not just of his dick but of his entire body. Everything about him is large, strong, brimming with restrained power until he has a reason to unless it.

The finger reaches deep inside you, curling as he pushes another in. He starts to pump them slowly, quickly speeding up until you’re whining and squirming on his lap. A third soon joins and you almost choke. “Yunho,” you cry.

He hums, not acknowledging you further. You love when he plays with you like this, clinically and methodically pleasuring you but seeming indifferent to you or your reactions. He doesn’t care what sounds you make, how many times you come undone on his fingers. You’re his toy and he’ll play with you until he gets bored.

He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing in circles to drive you close to the edge. You’re babbling incoherently now, crying and gasping as he works you to your orgasm.

“Yunho,” you sob as his fingers speed up. “Yunho, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he says. He doesn’t look up at you, gaze still fixed in your gushing pussy.

You cry as you let yourself go, juices coating his entire hand. He chuckles at the sight, pumping his fingers a few more times before pulling them out, but you know that’s more due to his time constraints than any desire to show you mercy. Other than your worst misbehaviours, the only time Yunho shows the merciless, cruel side of himself with you is during sex. He’s in charge, and he loves the way you cower and come undone beneath him.

He holds you in his lap for a few more minutes, stroking your gently and whispering praises as you come down from your high, before he gets up, a sad look on his face. “I so wish I could stay, baby,” he says mournfully. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

“Me too,” you sigh. “Please don’t get hurt.

He tilts his head, lips twitching with an amused smile. “I never do that,” he says. “And I’m not fighting anyone tonight. Just teaching them a lesson. Be ready for me when I’m back, yeah?”

You nod and he smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips before picking up his knife and walking out of your room. You hear the lock click behind him, a reminder that as much as you love each other, you’re still his prisoner. But the ghosts of his touches on your skin make it so much sweeter.

—————

[sansaorgana]

Oh my God!!

"You talked in your sleep... do you really love me?"

With Buck Cleven X reader, please?? Maybe reader is his best friend and sometimes talks in her sleep? So, best friends to lovers?? Please you'd cure my depression 😭😍

Love you & thank you 💕

hiii I'm so sorry you had to wait so long 😭 does anyone even still remember me omg 😫 thank you for your request! I didn't use this exact quote but the situation is the same and The Reader is a nurse here 😷

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Working as a nurse and befriending some of these boys, you mostly dreaded the day when one of them would come to you in a state that was doomed. To stare at your dying friend in pain, knowing you can’t do anything about it… That was keeping you awake at night. It was already difficult enough already to witness the boys you didn’t know at all die like this and not be able to help. But a vision of one of your friends in this situation was impossible to handle at times.

The one you worried about the most was Major Gale Cleven, the one everyone kept calling Buck. But you were the only person who still was calling him Gale. He was your friend from the moment he showed up. Handsome, charming but in a quiet way, kind-hearted and very responsible. You admired the way he was with his boys; like an older brother they could look up to. And not long time had passed until you realised you were actually in love with him.

Of course you would never admit that. But it made you smile when the boys admitted you were their favourite nurse, when they were treating you like the female equivalent of Gale Cleven at the base. Almost as if you were playing house with him with a bunch of pilots who were like your sons.

But loving a pilot was a dangerous business for the heart. Not that love could have been prevented. You had no control over that. But at least it was unrequited – in other circumstances you would cry your heart out into your pillow at night for loving someone who didn’t reciprocate his feelings. But this time it was for the better.

Yet, when you found him in the med bay after one of the missions, your heart skipped a beat. Your friend was talking to him softly, his face was in blood. You approached them immediately, ignoring other patients waiting for your care and attention.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You asked, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“His plane got hit,” your friend explained. “He managed to come back and land safely with a concussion, can you imagine?” The admiration in her voice made you feel jealous and you hated this side of you. She had every right to admire him for this sort of achievement. “I have to clean the wounds on his face. Poor lad, they’re gonna leave scars.”

“I’ll do it,” you dismissed her and moved past her, nearly pushing her away. She was surprised at your reaction but she didn’t have time to think about it or comment because other patients needed her.

So, she left you alone with Gale. His beautiful eyes were hazy from the concussion and probably a state of shock his body was in. He wouldn’t be able to fly a plane with a concussion if not for the adrenaline in his blood system.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly when you started to clean the wounds on his face gently. They were not very deep but they caused lots of bleeding and your friend was right; some of them would leave scars. Not that you minded, you only hoped he wouldn’t grow insecure because of them. “You’ve gained some scars, brave fly boy,” you chuckled nervously but he only looked at you like he didn’t recognise you. “It’s okay. You’ll sleep it off,” you caressed his hair gently. 

He was confused and in pain but yet, you hated yourself for kind of liking this version of Gale Cleven. Not only was he even more adorable than usual but also you could allow yourself the gestures you would never do if he was acting like himself.

When his face was clean and you washed some of his hair, too – the parts that got stuck together with blood, you laid him down gently and smiled softly at his handsome face. He reached his hand out as if he wanted you to hold it. An unusual thing to do, which made your heart flutter in your chest, but you tried to remember that he was not acting sane at the moment. Still, you gently took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. You decided to be with him until he’d wake up. Even if it would be the whole rest of the day and a night.

“Other boys need you,” the doctor approached you with a furrowed brow.

“He needs me the most,” you looked up.

“Cleven had a slight concussion, he will be absolutely fine,” the doctor insisted.

You knew that he was right and you didn’t want to act suspicious, so you sighed and squeezed Gale’s hand before leaving his side to go back to work. However, you worked as fast as you could, not even talking to the boys you were taking care of, just focusing purely on your job. And when you were finished, you went back to Gale’s bed and sat on the edge to watch over him. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

His wounds still kept bleeding a little here and there so you continued to clean them once in a while. And in his sleep, he sometimes moved, so you were putting your hand on his forehead, trying to calm him down and make sure he didn’t have a fever. Bucky checked on him in the meantime.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he winked at you and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Did he know…? Were you that obvious?

“It’s nothing. He always takes care of all of you boys. I can see that and they always tell me that. Even today, the guys from his fort were asking me to take extra care of Major Cleven,” I answered with all honesty.

“Yeah, they look up to him. What he did today was… incredible,” Bucky nodded. “When they landed, he didn’t even recognise me but a few minutes earlier he had been flying the goddamn plane in this state.”

“It was shock and adrenaline,” you explained. “He could have forgotten us but not how to survive and fly,” you added with a smile. “Or he’s a natural. Maybe he was born and already knew how to fly.”

“Believe me, he didn’t,” Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “I remember our early days… He didn’t.”

“Okay,” you giggled and squeezed Gale’s hand tighter. You imagined what he had to be like in the early days of his training. He had to be adorable; a bit scared but also full of hope and optimism, that boyish excitement. “Thanks for checking up on him. When he wakes up, I’ll tell him you came.”

“If he recognises us,” Bucky made a joke and walked out of the med bay but it left you anxious now. He was right. The doctor had said it was a slight concussion but… What if Gale would wake up and not recognise any of you?

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t realise he was having a dream again. You only reacted when he started to mumble some incoherent things.

“Shh, Gale, shh, it’s fine,” you whispered softly when you leaned in to see his face better and put both of your hands on his wounded cheeks, delicately, avoiding to cause him any further pain.

“...Her…” He mumbled, his words suddenly making sense. You furrowed your brow. “I love her.”

You swallowed thickly at those words. It was only a dream, right? It didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t be in love with someone else…? 

You shook it off. What were you even thinking of? What did it matter? You were not together and you would never be.

But then, Gale mumbled your name. Yours, not anyone else’s. You had to blink a few times and catch your breath all over again. And when you thought it had all been a mistake, he mumbled it out again and and again and then…

“I love her,” he repeated.

However, he seemed to be in a great torment because of whatever the dream was about. So, with a heavy heart, you shook his shoulders a little, forcing him to come back to reality.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly as his eyes widened. “Welcome back, soldier. Do you know where you are?”

“Wh-what happened?” He sat up rapidly, his hands immediately going to his face as if he wanted to check if everything was in its place.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” You asked, adjusting yourself on the edge of his bed to be closer to him.

“We got hit… Oh my God… We got hit!” He panicked but you shushed him. Other boys were asleep and you didn’t want them to wake up or be alarmed by his attack.

“It’s fine, hey, Gale, it’s okay. Everyone from your fort is fine and you know why…?” You asked with a gentle smile. He shook his head. “Because you safely took them home and landed that goddamn plane even though you had concussion and didn’t know your own name,” you tried to sound casual but the pride in your voice was more than obvious.

“I… I did that?” He asked. “No way.”

“Yeah, you did,” you laughed. “And I cleaned your face, it was all bloody. You’re gonna have some scars,” you explained. “Want a mirror?”

“I don’t think so,” Gale winced as his fingertips traced the wounds. He hissed out of pain so you grabbed his wrists and took the hands away from his face.

“Don’t. They’re still fresh. But not so bad, I’ve seen worse,” you tried to cheer him up. “In fact, I think, you’re gonna look amazing,” you winked and he sighed. “You remember me, right?”

“What? What are you talking about? Of course I do,” he furrowed his brows as his eyes looked worried.

“Yeah, but after you landed, you didn’t. You didn’t even know who Bucky was. He was here, you know. Checking on you. And all the boys from your fort were so worried about you. You’re a real leader,” you squeezed his hands but he didn’t say anything to these things. Praises were making him blush and he did now as well, looking away.

“Well, thanks for taking care of me,” he finally looked at you again.

“No problem. You wanted me to stay, reaching your hands out like a little boy,” you chuckled nervously. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring this up.

“Yeah, well, I had to feel lonely when I couldn’t recognise anyone. Even when I can, I often feel lonely,” he admitted with a shrug of his arms. “We’re so far away from home, from our families. The boys are like family, too, but every day can be their last. And men… Well, we don’t really…” He tried to look for words.

“Hold each other’s hands?” You asked and he nodded. You squeezed his hands again. “You talked in your sleep,” you brought that up, encouraged by his last confession.

“Oh dear God…” Gale rolled his eyes, visibly embarrassed. “What about?”

“You were talking about some girl that you love,” you teased him, grinning and winking playfully, pretending to be a teasing friend and hiding the nervousness. “She happens to have the same name as me or something.”

You expected him to be defensive or laugh at you. You would push his shoulder gently and tell him that you had been joking. But he didn’t react like that at all. In fact, he took his hands away as if your touch burnt him and he cleared his throat nervously.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Can we… Can we pretend you’ve never heard that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You kept staring at him in disbelief and bit on your lower lip.

“How?” You asked, feeling a sudden outburst of bravery in you. If Gale could have flown a plane with a concussion, you could say what you wanted to say. “How am I supposed to pretend I have never heard that? When that’s… That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

Gale looked up at you as if he had to check with his own eyes if you weren’t joking. But you were dead serious.

“So don’t pretend,” he finally spoke up and reached out for your hand again. His fingers were cold and shaky. You intertwined them with yours. “But I didn’t want to do anything until… Well, I planned to ask you to dance with me at the party after my 25th mission. But I never wanted to let you know before that because if I died…”

“If you died, I would never know,” you looked up to meet his gaze with tears pricking your eyes. “And you think that’s fair? You think it would make it easier for me? It would not.”

“I’m sorry,” Gale swallowed thickly. “Are you angry with me?”

“For that? No. For nearly dying today? Yes,” you nodded and wiped your tears away with your free hand.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposed, looking at you with pain in his eyes. He hated to see you so sad and crying… Especially when it was caused by him. “Let’s not… Let’s not do anything about it until I’ve done my missions, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded through the tears. “But… What if you don’t finish them…?”

“Well, then, we’re both gonna die without ever kissing each other,” he lowered his voice even though all the other nurses were out of the med bay and other patients were asleep. “But… That doesn’t sound right to me.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me either,” you admitted.

“Then come here,” he encouraged you to get closer. “Just one kiss.”

“A promise of many more, I hope. Not the last one,” you said in a shaky voice but he only nodded his head because that was a promise he couldn’t make.

If it depended on him, he would. He would swear on everything. But it depended on things much bigger than you or him. On things he couldn’t control nor prevent.

He cupped your face delicately, as if it were you with the wounds on your cheeks, and he joined your lips in a sweet kiss, even though it tasted salty from all your tears.

“Just don’t die,” you breathed out when the kiss ended. “Just don’t die and the rest I can fix and endure.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[midniiights-garden]

General HCs on Mizu with an S/O

First Meeting: How would she have most likely come into contact with the reader?

Personally I believe that Mizu would have most likely met her future S/O whilst they were travelling or working.

I'm gearing this more towards non-binary/female readers so if you're a guy reading this I'm sorry 😞

Anyways, yeah she probably met her S/O whilst they were either running away from something, hiding themselves or maybe as a brothel worker.

Either way I really think the first meeting would go the same no matter how you met her.

She'd be pretty cold and distant as she is with most people, keeping her distance both physically and emotionally. At first she won't treat her future S/O that differently than others.

Her Type: What would her type be?

I see Mizu as someone who needs stability. So ideally her S/O wouldn't be someone with the tendency to need adventure or conflict to thrive.

She would probably want someone who knows who they are, someone she doesn't need to take care of as an addition to herself. Someone who is ok with being alone especially since Mizu strikes me as the type to need time to herself often.

I also think she wouldn't be great with words of affirmation, so if you really need words to feel secure I don't think she'd be a great partner for that. Throughout the show I notice that she shows appreciation mainly through acts of service and quaility time, and this would still be the case with her S/O.

In terms of apperance I don't think she'd actually care too much. I think she may have an unconcious bias towards other Asians since she was raised in Japan, but due to her prior experience with racisim I don't think she'd necessarily be willing to be with someone of European lineage. I think that this might change through time though, especially once Mizu manages to come to terms with her own features. Then I think she'd be pretty unbiased.

They'd also have to be more on the mature side. Not necessarily in terms of age, but just personality wise. Someone who is self-aware and understanding and paitent.

Trust: How trusting would she be?

At first not very.

Obviously she has had incredibly negative experiences with relationships, so once she had an S/O I think she may still struggle with making the difference between her past relationship and her current one.

This may result in a bit of a turbulent start and I think there may be more arguements.

However, as time goes on and she realises that her S/O is truly in love with her for who she is and would probably die for her she starts to open up some more.

I've seen other headcanons saying that she becomes more feminine once she's comfortable with her S/O and I 100% agree with it. Just imagining her with her S/O, her hair down and letting her partner put makeup on her makes me blush and giggle ngl. Like, she is stunning. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Words cannot describe how wonderful she is.

Anyways-

Yeah it would be like the reverse of "calm before the storm".

Arguements: How would she handle an arguement between her and her S/O?

Ok, so firstly I think an arguement would probably arise due to her aforementioned unwillingness to open up. Her S/O would be tired of being kept in the dark or worried about Mizu and would pry, and Mizu would snap.

I think Mizu would actually end up storming off, wanting to cool down first before coming back.

Mizu isn't one to solve things with violence when it comes to the people she cares about, so I think she'd prefer to talk things out calmly instead of yelling.

It may turn into yelling if said S/O tried to follow her when she leaves to go cool down though.

After the arguement she may be a little cold for a couple of days before returning to her usual self.

Marriage: Does she want to get remarried?

At the beginning of the relationship I do not think she was very willing to get married again. (Fuck you M*kio.)

Of course, as I mentioned plenty of times before she would have a lot of reservations in terms of opening herself up emotionally.

She fears getting married again might be a Mikio pt. 2 which would not be great for her mental health.

But as the relationship grows and her S/O proves that they intended to stay by her side ring or not... that's when she starts to consider the idea again. Especially since this time it's with someone she truly loves and who loves her back.

Her wedding would be small. Obviously. No hate to my precious baby but she doesn't have a whole lot of friends nor family to invite over. It would most likely just consist of her S/O and her, Ringo and Akemi. Who may or may not have dragged Taigen along.

Mizu would get to wear her wedding attire and properly get married to the love of her life. 😭😭😭

I can imagine her being really nervous beforehand, wondering if her S/O might consider her ugly once she saw her in her wedding attire and what not.

But of course her S/O would be like "stfu you're beautiful".

All in all it'd be a pretty emotional affair, lots of crying (behind doors for Mizu) and hugs.

(A/N: Ok. So I may have lied when I said general. Listen, in my defense I'm basically just throwing up my ideas here.)

[hyacintheros]

Hii! Can you write headcanons for what it would be like for a female reader to share a dorm with marauders?(since first year) Maybe like girls dorms were full?? I know it makes no sense but I couldn't come up with anything else. Thanks in advance 🎀

This is such a thought though, you're cooking with this one, never done headcanons before, but I hope I can deliver your vision dovey!🥰🫡

Maybe there were too many first year females in Gryffindor, I mean record breaking and they weren't expecting it, so some girls had to be accommodated with the boys

Each dorm had 5 beds anyways, so the marauders were happy to host another person c:

First year would be a little awkward, not used to being co-ed, reader would definitely have her curtains drawn 85% of the time, made her own friends outside of the marauders treating them as roommates rather than friends

Second year is a little better, being now more used to the presence of the boys, maybe warming up to Peter's quiet personality, Remus’ bookworm behaviour, then to James’ happy go lucky attitude, then finally Sirius’ flirting. Being more adventurous and actually hanging out with them outside of their dorm, pulling little pranks here and there

By third year, she'd finally been let in on Remus’ Moony escapades, now an honorary member of the Marauders. This is also when everyone pledges to become animagi for Remus’ sake, telling the reader that she doesn't have to do this with them. She relents, wanting to do her best for Moony! When they all finally complete the animation process, reader finds out hers is a raccoon, earning the name ‘Bandit’, now attracted to anything shiny, like a niffler!

Fourth year is when she starts to realise that maybe there's more to her friendship with the marauders. Keeping her curtains open most nights, reading books with Remus on his bed, often falling asleep there. Listening to Jamie talk about quidditch while she does homework, picking flowers and leaves with Peter, and gossiping with Sirius about McGonagall. Though, she doesn't want to ruin the current dynamic they've got going on, instead, resigning to keeping her feelings bottled

Fifth year has reader in a twist, trying to balance a social life while studying for her O.W.Ls, while also trying to keep her feelings afloat. She spends most time hidden in a corner in the library, a spot none of the marauders are privy to. By Christmas, the boys feel as if they've done something wrong, their best friend and partner in crime won't hang out with them anymore. Before the break, they confront Bandit, needing to repair their friendship before any more damage is done. Confessing her feelings to them in the astronomy tower, she's ready to bolt. Before she can, James pulls her in, expressing that she's not alone in her feelings. Promising to work through a 5 person relationship, they are officially together by the end of the year.

Sixth year comes along, and so do rumours. Hogwarts had never seen a relationship like theirs, confused and oddly weirded out by its nature, turned to bullying the poor girl. She'd often hide out in the dorm after class and before meals, the pressure getting too much at times. Sirius is the one to bash the rumours, standing on the Gryffindor table before Easter break, shouting his undying love for Bandit and the other marauders! The rumours die down after that, and Bandit can finally walk the halls without being ridiculed again.

Last year, seventh year comes, a melancholic air around them, wishing they could spend more and more years at Hogwarts. What will they do after? James wants to be an Auror, Sirius a Quidditch star, Remus an Author, Peter a Herbologist. And reader? She's still trying to figure that out, thus taking all possible courses to help her out later. Most days are filled with endless studying, wishing she knew how to plan her life, yet she still finds time to pull some senior pranks on the younger kids, all harmless and joyful. Graduation comes sooner than expected, eager to see what life will bring across her path.

They all find an apartment in muggle London with the help of Bandit's parents. They had to custom make a bed that would accommodate all 5 of them with much room to cuddle with. James does end up being and Auror, Sirius following suit. Peter is furthering his studies on Herbology and Caring for Magical Creatures, while Remus attends a muggle University for an English degree. Bandit ended up for applying as a Potions teaching assistant back at Hogwarts, her love brewing at the cauldron ♡

I feel like headcanons are supposed to be short, maybe I'm silly *insert that cat voices gif* 

[rivendell-poet]

I LOVED your SFW alphabet with Fili! Could you do Thorin next?? 🫶🤍

Hi! First of all thank you so much! Second of all, of course 🤍

*･༓˚✧❝𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « SFW Alphabet »

Wordcount : 2.7k (not including questions)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) He's an affectionate person, but Thorin isn't good at public displays of affection - when it comes to giving it to you. He will, however, not protest if you're the one who initiates it. So, if you're a big fan of hand holding or kisses then he'll happily do it for. However, he also needs you to know that he cares for you, that he would move mountains for you. So Thorin mainly does it in two ways, the first being acts of service. The thing you mentioned that needs to be done? It's completed, and not just by any dwarf - he needs to make sure he's either done by him or one of the best in the realm. He's been working for most of his life, so is pretty adept to when it will become stressful. As such, he often prepares things ahead of time - like a relaxing bath or finely cooked meal - so that you can stay on top of everything.

And of course, as a dwarf, his most prominent love language is gift giving. Almost always has a long project for you on the go - such as an extravagant necklace, or a new sword (with only the perfect mixture of ornate and practical). He also will bring you smaller gifts, a collection of rings made from a new vein of rubies, or the final knife he made (that secretly had you in mind). If you'd met while he was still working as a blacksmith then Thorin would still try to bring you gifts - putting just as much time into them. They wouldn't be made of the same materials, and he sheepishly apologises about the pendant he presents you. In his eyes it doesn't matter that it's almost perfect, but that you deserve more than a pendant made from metal saved up from scrapped swords. To you, it matters not the materials but the time and love clearly put into it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Thorin is a very good friend - although more in a I-will-support-and-die-for-you than a lets-go-hang-out today friend. We've seen it with all of his companions, and if you were his friend he would give you the same loyalty. The friendship probably evolves over time, starting with spending time together in a job or similar way, and eventually building up into wanting to spend time with you because you're friends - and not because you simply need to spend time together. It also means that when you finally confirm 'we're friends, right?' that it's slightly awkward, because you've already known each other for so long. (He laughs before saying 'of course'.)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Thorin is fine with cuddling, although generally it will just be a hug with him - so you're the one to pull the dwarf back. The first time you do it he freezes up, looking at you and tensing before slowly relaxing into your touch. Once it's done a few times he's quick to envelope you when he realises that's what you want. Thorin is also very much the big spoon, he enjoys cuddling and the physical contact - but he also enjoys it because it keeps you safe and close to him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Thorin will go to Erebor, and therefore very much wants to settle down. He wants his home back. He's actually very good at cleaning, to an almost unusual amount, and you almost can't tell he's been at work in the mines for a day. A lot of this comes from his sense of pride in a home, and that - for him - cleanliness is one of the best ways to keep control of a home (while he's not in Erebor). And he cares too deeply about Erebor to let it be dirty. Cooking is something he's decent at, but he doesn't excelle in the field.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Is very open and honest about this. He speaks to you before, multiple times, and desperately wants you to stay with him. However he also won't stay with someone who makes him unhappy, so instead sits and talks it over - explaining his reasons, but lacking some emotion.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Commitment is something that's always in the back of his mind, as he's a prince. But he also knows that things may not last forever. So although he goes into a relationship fully committed, Thorin isn't sure if you'll be his forever. But within only a few months, he realises that you are the one he wants to make his one and only. You are the one he wants to be with forever. He proposes fairly quickly, wanting to show his loyalty, but waits to get married until Erebor is reclaimed. Thorin wants the two of you to get married in outfits embroidered with diamonds, walking in the halls of his ancestors - and swearing the oath that will make you his fellow monarch in the halls you will be ruler in.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Thorin is not a particularly emotionally gentle person, but that doesn't mean that he is brash or uncaring. He still cares about you immensely, spending time with you - asking how you are and if you ever need anything. It's gentle but consistent, and you know that he will listen without judgement - and that he will help you the most he can. However, Thorin is very physically gentle. He will hug you as though you are made of the frailest glass, and when he holds your hand it's always a gentle slip into yours to let you draw away if you don't want to. Sometimes you'll reprimand him about it, and he does always apologise.

"I am sorry, my love. But when you are taught to be careful with treasures your entire life, it is difficult to break that habit."

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Thorin is neutral about hugs as a thing, but he's a fan of the physical contact and the feeling of protection it gives the both of you. Depending on the height difference he'll either lean his head on you, or wait for you to lean your head onto his. It's still one of the most socially acceptable ways to show physical affection, and he does it a lot with friends, so you get hugged a lot - there are simply things he'd rather do. His hugs are gentle, but once you convince him they start off slightly harder - still not squeezing you enough to bring discomfort, but enough to reassure you he's here.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Thorin's realisation that he loves you comes slowly, and although he's been with you for a time - so subconsciously known it - the thought had never truly been realised. And then he does. And once that occurs, it takes almost no time for him to say 'I love you'.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) He's a pretty jealous person, even though he knows you're not going you leave him. It's fairly obvious, with him generally glowering at the person before making his way over to you so he can be next to you. He will then be very brusque to that person, not even hiding his attempt to either drive them away, or give them a warning that you're taken. He can put this aside if he needs to, like if it's on a very important diplomatic mission, but even then he's still ruder to that person - and it's obvious to people who know him well.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Thorin's kissing is deeper and needy, not rough - but not as gentle as his other touches. He will start off just as gentle, the kiss simply asking if you want more of it. Still looking into your eyes, and then when you deepen it he instantly deepens it back. He enjoys kissing you on the lips, and that's where he kisses you the most - however if you're too much taller than him (although he still kisses you the same way) then he's also a fan of kissing your hand. It's a greeting, sometimes, him kissing your hand before giving a knowing smile.

Enjoys being kissed on the lips the most, but also enjoys being kissed on the forehead (especially if you're taller than him). He will, however, never admit this.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Isn't very good with children. He can deal with them, but he doesn't particularly like them. Thorin generally avoids them, or plans out his interactions beforehand - such as a speech in a place he knows they'll be. However he would be a very good father. But only to his child.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Tends to wake up early, but not always to do anything. Often he will wake up and look at you next to him, and just lay there - content in the fact that you love him, and that the both of you are there for each other. When you wake up he's next to you, giving you a gentle kiss before greeting you - his voice still sleepy from lack of use. Very occasionally, such as if he wakes up particularly early, he will go to do things but always stays closer to you. When you wake up on those days, most small tasks are completed and a breakfast is ready.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Will come home after a day and immediately go to you, expressing how he missed you and he's glad you here. Often asks you to tell him about your day and he'll share his in exchange. Occasionally, you'll realise that he's not come home and find him slaving over paperwork or some new crafting. He apologises, but will sometimes make mistakes. Reassures you that it's always him being dwarven, and never a slight on you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) He would wait a while to reveal everything to you, but that's just because he's not someone who often talks about himself. Also, a large amount of the things he could say to you relate to Erebor and his role before it's destruction, which he understandably doesn't enjoy taking about. When he does it's quite expository, and more factual than anything else. Thorin does become a lot more open once Erebor has been reclaimed, walking you through the halls while telling tales of his life within them.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) He's ok with his temper. It's more easy to get him irritated, but he also doesn't actually lose his temper very easily. Makes his annoyance obvious, but doesn't often lose temper. When he does lose his temper, he always apologises afterwards.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Thorin remembers a lot about you, to a very impressive degree. It's also never something he particularly draws attention to, so the first few times he's able to remember a - what you deem as - insignificant fact you're surprised. And then it keeps happening. Has a small notebook in which he sketches or writes ideas about gifts for you. A large part of this notebook is simply things you like that he could turn into gifts for you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) His favourite moment of the two of you together is when Thorin finally realises that he loves you. The two of you are together after a long day, and you've gently leaned into him - almost sleeping on him, although you're still awake. As the two of you are so close together he can almost feel your heartbeat, how the two of you are so matched. How the two of you are so close. How he loves you.

The realisation puts a smile on his face, one which you barely notice and so ask what's going on. He shakes his head with a smile. "I love you."

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Thorin is very protective of you, both generally and in romantic terms. He needs to make sure that his heart will be safe - and he's already lost so much. Would also give you a bodyguard if he could, but respects that you may not want someone constantly around you. So instead he tries to be around you as much as he can, and also focuses a lot on armour and weaponry. In fact, a lot of gifts early in your relationship and quite battle-oriented (and he is more than happy to spend time with you if you need to learn techniques).

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Puts a lot of effort into gifts, as previously stated, and also puts a lot of effort into anniversaries and dates. Some of the things he looks forward too most are his dates between the two of you - so of course he tries as hard as he can to make them special for you. Anniversaries are always a big deal, but they get especially extravagant once he becomes king. Thorin prefers to hire help for everyday tasks, simply because he'd rather someone else do it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Thorin's greatest flaw is that he's stubborn, even if his loved one is trying to get him to back down. It is possible to get through to him, but takes a lot of effort and energy. He does get better once Erebor is reclaimed, but this stubborness is a part of him - not just because of his troubles, but his personality.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He wants to look nice, both in terms of his physical appearance and his clothes. Also, he enjoys when you see him and blush. Dwarves generally spend a lot of time on their beards, which I feel extends to the rest of their body - especially royal dwarves.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Once Thorin has truly fallen in love with you, he would certainly feel incomplete if he was to lose you. Thorin deeply cares about the things that are important to him, and you are probably one of - if not the - most important thing go him. It would be something that he would deal with forever; a hurt that gets better but never truly heals.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Thorin is actually a sapphire person. He thinks it brings out his eyes, and although white gems are preferable they pale in comparison to the Arkenstone. Gifts he gives to you are often made of sapphires, unless you've expressed preferences.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Thorin cares too much about Erebor to leave it for anyone, but he also doesn't want his beloved to be unhappy - so if he had to chose between the two of you he'd chose Erebor.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Manages to go to sleep fairly quickly, and wakes up fairly early as well. He will generally follow you into bed, and picks up a lot of your sleep schedules.

A/N : Sorry for the wait darling, but hopefully you enjoyed this! My hobbit works are slowly increasing, but you guys seem to be enjoying them? (subtly asks for feedback, *wink, wink*)

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @ferns-fics / @recordofragnarokfan2 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Do you have a molly redesign?

I do!

She isn’t a fullbody or finished at all but I love her dearly. Whenever I draw her face I like to make her look really sweet until she opens her eyes and its like ⚫️w⚫️ and its like “oh! um!” Cause I love doing stuff with eyes. I want hers to be kind of creepy looking cause I mean shes a spider! But also I want her to look a bit out of place in heaven, her halo is a little crooked, her eyes are really big and don’t have much shine to them, and her general appearance is just a little off putting the way she stares and her interests. Like she was in the mafia and witnessed her brother overdose and slowly die in a coma, shes going to be kind of fucked up. Plus she has a bit of a thousand yard stare in canon anyway

I think molly being in heaven is really interesting honestly and it’s a large part of her character, like she’s very important to plot once Sir Pentious gets into heaven and we actually see more of it. Shes still her own person of course but she also serves as a way to show that some people in heaven are almost as strange as people in hell. Molly loves spiders and has an intense interest in true crime and surgical procedures, also again, she’s something that people are usually afraid of, like when you die and go to heaven most people usually aren’t like “OH MY GOD I HOPE IM A SPIDER…” but she totally was cause shes just like that.

Unlike Angel (hence why he isn’t up here) Molly was very religious and still holds a large chunk of religious trauma, however she remains faithful and is using her faith as a way to cope with her grief and stress. A large majority of her family were homophobic and transphobic so having two twins that were respectively gay and trans they didn’t take very kindly to that. Molly was just much much more closeted than Angel/Anthony. She still tried to help him with his problems but found it hard to when he was so engaged in the family business and turned to drugs instead of talking to her and we know how that ended up turning out already.

Molly never really got to transition while alive and spent the remainder of her life after Anthony died more closed off and a bit more sad than she already was. She didn’t entirely shut down but for a few years she absolutely did and eventually separated from her family and tried to pursue herself and her religion further (ie. getting a boyfriend and going to church) While Angel broke many of the 10 commandments, Molly made sure to do her best to respect them and would always pray afterwards. She did end up dying of old age and ended up in heaven, though upon arrival realising her brother was in fact not here was a detrimental blow to her mindset and sets up a bit of the point with how religion can be used both to help grief but also can be used to completely ignore grief as well as coming to terms with the fact those you care for might not always be the best people and sometimes you’re forced to leave them behind because of that.

I have not reached this point in the rewrite yet to figure out how or if Angel gets redeemed at all but I really like imagining them hugging and being shocked at how much the other has changed

[mythologicalcorner]

Apollo x Human!Reader Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about who is wanted in requests -

• Apollo’s first reaction towards you would be absolute awe. He’s enamoured by your presence despite only being a normal person and will do all in his power to have you be his, no matter what you say or feel about the situation.

• Apollo generally assumes that most humans are the same, although he’s well aware of their various desires and abilities he knows that they’re all pretty similar deep down. However, once seeing you he immediately feels as if you can’t be the same as everyone else, because if you were then he wouldn’t be so interested in you.

• Apollo sees you to be different mainly due to his first impressions of your beauty and how you carry yourself. He’d notice your kindness after this and would be drawn to your personality and behaviour towards others, hoping that you would dedicate yourself through these acts directly to him.

• Apollo would be desperate to keep you away from other gods and goddesses, especially as nothing good ever happens once multiple gods have set their eyes upon one being (also not saying that one god is a good thing either). He sets himself apart from all other deified beings and would never comprehend anything bad happening to you being the fault of his own and would blame another deity for getting involved for the blame of your misfortune no matter how guilty he actually is at the time.

• He’d be incredibly protective of you constantly and would always be watching over you whenever he can to ensure that he sees you safe. If anything does ever happen he’d spring into action filled with rage and would hide you away to try to prevent any further harm coming your way, even if it was only something minor.

• He would also be very obsessive over you, and unfortunately your answer of no towards his advances wouldn’t be listened to. There would be no escape for Apollo and his obsession would only die if he was forced or something very unfortunate happened to you; however, simply keeping you both apart wouldn’t settle his obsession towards you.

• Apollo thoroughly enjoys spoiling you, with both physical affection and material items. In his mind it’s his job to give all he can to you to ensure your happiness and pleasure, even if he can go overboard and too far without realising it.

• Apollo fawns over how small and vulnerable you are compared to him, even when he’s at human height. His power over you is incredible and this is something he truly relishes in every time he notices it as it fuels his ego as a protector and provider for you.

[my-adhd-gremlin-blog]

I am as disappointed as everyone else is with the final season of The Umbrella Academy, but I also have some of my own Thoughts™️. Allow me to weigh in.

We can all agree that the finale was absolute dogshit, right? I've seen a lot of commentary about the character assassination of Number Five, and the cursed as fuck crack ship that should've stayed in the deep recesses of ao3, where no one could find it. But there was also absolutely no character development for any of them in the end? Not really?

Luther still has unresolved daddy issues (why else would he be squatting in the condemned building of the Academy?). And he just, what, gave up looking for his wife? Luther "loverboy" Hargreeves. The man who chased and pined for Allison almost his entire life gave up on HIS WIFE after/within six years? No way.

Diego's character basically went nowhere. Four seasons, and he still didn't come to any kind of realisation that, hey, maybe he is enough. No. If he isn't in Luther's shadow, he's insecure about his marriage, or his powers, and being "strong enough." Everything was a competition to him, even though he was the only one competing. He deserved a little bit of self-love, but apparently, "self-destruct" is all he gets.

Allison had her ups and downs, and they let her end on a fucking down? Her arch was the most disappointing. We literally see her trying to be a better, more honest person in s1, and then a human rights activist in s2. Her powers are morally grey, sure, but she had so much potential. Then she just straight up becomes a villain and has barely any redemption for it? Her character started on a high. It was natural progression for her to hit a low. But not that low. And she never really came back up from it. In six years, it seemed like she made no real effort to make up for what she did. A couple of good decisions do not make up for a multitude of bad ones.

Which brings me to Klaus. I wasn't sold on sober, germaphobe Klaus to begin with. I thought it was just a little bit too out of character. But I'll take that any day than what happened to him this season. And to his credit, his hypochondria after losing his powers at least made sense. But he'd made so much progress, not just on his sobriety but on embracing his powers rather than being afraid. (Also, he and Allison being codependent on each other like that was not healthy).

This season made Ben, as a character, pretty much pointless. From the beginning, it seemed like his death was supposed to bring the Academy together, narratively speaking. It was his "purpose" to die and become a sort of martyr to his siblings (I mean, it didn't work, so even then, Ben kinda died unnecessarily). But in reality, his death wasn't a teachable moment, it was just murder. And without Ben, the story still would have ended the same way. Any of the children born from the marigold could have brought about the cleanse, it didn't necessarily HAVE to be Ben. And with the number of timelines there were, it was probably inevitable that it would happen in at least one of them. They all died pointlessly, but Ben's deaths were especially pointless.

Viktor was about the only character that DID have some development. He finally stood up to his father and received at least some validation for his mistreatment as a kid. Not that it ended up mattering because his relationship with his siblings was practically non-existent at this point. All he'd ever wanted was to be a part of the team, and yet apparently made no effort in six years to see his siblings and actually be a part of the family. It makes no sense for his character.

I hate that Lila was a damsel in distress for most of this season. She's a grown woman who we know is fully capable of standing up for herself, but it felt like she was reduced to just her role in the family. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with being a mother or a wife, but that seemed to be ALL her character was this season, when we know she's more than that. The one thing she got to herself was taken away from her coz it hurt "poor Diego's feelings 🥺". Grow up 🙄. And I am not touching the other thing with a ten foot barge pole.

Now, obviously, there's Five. People have already talked about how his character was completely butchered this season. No, Five of the past would not have given up so easily. Despite the jabs and the squabbling, Five loved his family. He fought hard to get back to them when he was stranded. After a struggle like that, why the fuck WOULD he stop fighting to keep his family together?

I'm not saying all of these characters had to be good, outstanding citizens by the end of the show. But they should have at least had a journey from season one. Instead, they either went backwards or in circles. And in the end, none of it mattered anyway.

This season was so fucking stupid. It completely undermined the rest of the story. What was the point in literally anything that happened in the previous seasons if it was just leading up to all of it being erased? This is some, "and it was all a dream" bullshit, and I'm not here for it.

[angelicameron]

J.M / HEADCANNONS

pairings: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

summary: what it would be like to date THE JJ Maybank

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD!! new to writing so lmk if there’s anything i can improve and give tips if possible, also i have a Jj mini fic idea if you and him doing smt adventurous and you getting hurt and him on the verge of tears and blaming himself? lmk if i should write it xx

warnings: nsfw content at the end, mention of toys and exploring kinks (none in particular), mention of praise and degradation, lmk if i missed any!

SFW:

- not only would he be your bf, you guys would be best friends.

- he’d literally be your ride or die.

- he would quite literally risk his life to even make you the tiniest bit happier, he just wants to see you smile.

- if anyone ever spoke about you badly he wouldn’t let them get away with it.

- on the other hand, he loves danger so he’d take you to do a lot of dangerous and adrenaline inducing things but if you so much as scraped your knee he’d feel so bad for letting you get hurt.

- he doesn’t have much money so he can’t spoil you like that but he’d give you so much love and attention and he’d die for you.

- he does need a lot of reassurance. he doesn’t believe anyone can truly love him so he’ll need a reminder here and there that you do love him.

- he’s always scared of messing up and losing you.

- you are literally his favourite person on the planet and he feels like you’re the only one who truly understands him and he doesn’t want to lose that.

- he would love love love seeing you in his clothes.

- he would always be giving you his shirts, jumpers, caps, pants, etc.

- whenever you complained about not having anything to wear he’d help you decide and more often than not the entire outfit consisted of his clothes.

- he’d love it just because he thinks you look cute in his clothes but also because it shows everyone that you are Jjs girlfriend.

- he gots so jealous.

- he loves pda anywhere and everywhere.

- a guy was just flirting with you at a party? e immediately making out with you.

- some guy was checking you out? he’s hugging you from behind and kissing your neck.

- you are even breathing the same air as another guy? his arms around your waist.

- he also just loves being close to you all the time because it brings him comfort.

- Jayj always compliments you because he needs you to realise you are the most perfect girl ever.

- you make him feel truly loved and he wouldn’t give that up for the world.

NSFW:

- also very adventurous in the bedroom.

- would love the idea of trying out new kinks and toys.

- he’s usually a dom but after a tough day sometimes he’ll be more submissive.

- i feel like he’d be very passionate when it comes to sex.

- he’s had his fair share of hookups but once he actual commits he takes it very seriously.

- he’s always made sure everyone he’s slept with gets off.

- but with you he makes sure you get off multiple times.

- i have a feeling he’d love to give and receive praise.

- he’d also be down to degrade you here and there though if that’s what you prefer.