#those brothers went through a lot it's only logical that one of them is a bit off the rails

[irgendwiepoetisch]

on another note, the first thing the sandmann did when hearing eos is back was to steal his girlfriend's corpse.....iconic

[iridescentxstars]

-> 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 .ೃ࿐ [ — bangchan ]

➳ published: 13.07.24 ➳ credit: banner & divider: @aaagustd || beta: @wooahaeproductions ➳ brother's best friend!au || genre: smut || rated: m ➳ pairing: brother's best friend!bangchan x reader ➳ summary: it's been a few years since you saw chan, your older brother's best friend and the first guy you ever had a crush on. a few years can change a lot of things, unexpectedly, especially when a fantasy becomes reality. ➳ word count: 3.2k ➳ warnings: age gap (7 years), masturbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism ➳ author's note: i don't think i've ever written an age gap before like this so let me know what you think. ➳ taglist: @byunparklimchoi @djeniryuu @sanjoongie @honey-andmilktea (please let me know if you want to be tagged in future works)

your thoughts and feedback are always welcomed and are always appreciated. let me know what you think of my work so i can continue to give works and know they are enjoyed.

It was an accident.

You need a change of clothes and know that your brother had kept some of your clothes in his room from your last visit, so you went to grab them. All you want is to get changed. All you have to do is head upstairs, take the first left, and head into the first room on the…

Mm.. mmm…

You freeze, hand on the door handle, mid turn. Did you hear that right? Your body temperature rises, thoughts running rampant through your mind as you try to wrap your head around what you had just heard. The sound is unmistakable even if you are trying to figure out whether you’ve finally gone crazy or not.

Ah… fuck…

Swallowing thickly, you turn your head tofind Chan’s door ajar and see the sensual red lights spill across the threshold, stopping at your feet as if tempting you to take a step closer. You’ve always had a crush on Chan, the actual cliche of it all not being lost on you when you finally realised and accepted those feelings while doing everything in your power to chase them away. You dated, compared everyone to him, and always managed to find your way back to him when your heart got broken.

Like that… yes…

At twenty-four, you are a catch. Beautiful, stunning, drop dead gorgeous but Chan never really paid attention to you like that. Why would he? Your older brother is his best friend and there is nothing that could come between them, their bond is unbreakable, and you? You’ve always been the rosy-cheeked little sister with your hair in pigtails, missing a front tooth, chasing after the teenage boys to be included. At twenty-four, you are a woman who has men chasing after her but there’ll always be one man who’ll take the podium alone.

Chan.

You tell yourself you never stood a chance because he’s known you since you were a kid, the seven year difference between the two of you being as much of a deterrent as the lisp you had when you lost your other front tooth. You tell yourself that Chan has never seen you as a woman and that the right thing to do when hearing the faint wet sound coming from his room is to turn around and walk in the opposite direction. You tell yourself that you don’t want to know, that it’s wrong listening to him without his knowledge…

…hss… ngh… good girl…

His door is open. Too open to be an accident. It’s not like he’s rushed into his room and slammed the door but it didn’t catch… It’s… open enough that from across the hall, you can see the foot of his bed, his shirt thrown carelessly onto the computer chair you can see half of– God, you need to walk away.

Yes. Smart.

You let go of the door handle and turn to leave, only to find your feet fighting against the logic being communicated from above. Keeping out of view, you stand with your back against the wall beside his door and clench your eyes shut as if it’ll either hide you from anyone coming up the stairs or keep you from listening to the filthy sounds coming from his room.

Catching Chan in the act was an accident but this? This is you playing with fire.

Chan had come back from the gym, having gone straight there after work and while he knew that you were going to be over, visiting while on holiday for university, he didn’t know that within the last few years of barely seeing you – you would have become an attractive young woman. It hit him like a freight train and while he felt like he was betraying your brother for lusting over you in his mind, part of him certainly liked the way those sinful thoughts were playing out.

You’re his best friend’s little sister. When you were thirteen, he had you drool all over his shoulder when coming back from the beach, he remembers doing your hair before the school play where you were playing the female lead, and he remembers sitting with you in the kitchen as you devoured three chocolate oreo ice cream sandwiches when you had your heartbroken for the first time. Chan knows as much about you as your brother does because he watched you grow up.

He should not be acting like this. He’s better than this, or so he likes to think he is.

It didn’t help that you were helping your brother clean his car, a water fight ensuing when Chan closed his car door and greeted you two only to see that your shirt was soaked. You looked so cute, blushing slightly and smiling up at him as you folded your arms over your chest to hide your breasts from his eyes that had made their way down. “Hey, it’s been a while.” He says, gaining composure after licking his lips and looking back into your shining eyes. You throw yourself at him and Chan chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck, your chest pressed against his as you wet his shirt. His hands land on your back to give you a small squeeze. “Careful now, petal, Jax might think that you’ve missed me more than him.”

Pulling away, he doesn’t miss the colour in your cheeks darkening as your brother clears his throat and Chan chuckles as he lets you step out of his reach. Fuck, you felt so nice in his arms. Your body has grown into that of a woman with soft curves in all the right places and it’s only because Chan isn’t the type to push anything unless he knows he’s not mistaking the signals that he let you go. “If you want, we can clean your car, too?” You smile up at him and Chan hums softly in thought before returning the warmth in his own smile.

“Sure,” he passes you the keys, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue but he’s smart. Smart enough not to risk a right hook from Jackson. “I’m heading in to shower.” A simple lie falling off his soft lips – Chan showered at the gym. He needs to stop looking at the shirt clinging to your body and teasing him with thoughts of you. Escape seems to be the only way to keep his sanity. “We can catch up afterward, hm?”

He can’t get into his room fast enough, the door left open in his haste as he pulls his damp white shirt off and throws it in a random direction. He wants to erase the image of you from his mind as he runs fingers through his slightly messy black locks, trying to keep the image of you pure, sweet, innocent – failing miserably in doing so.

Where the fuck did this come from?

He’s always known, Chan thinks about it, he’s always known that you’ve had a crush on him because he saw how you’d behave when you started going through puberty and avoided being near him for the longest time. A girl who was always so happy to give her big brother and his best friend a hug, who would hold Chan’s hand whenever you crossed the road, and who would squeal with joy when he’d give you piggyback rides. You never shied away from his affections until you were fifteen and couldn’t look him in the eye.

He figured it out quickly but never once did he mention it because he didn’t see you like that. Sweet, innocent petal who shines as bright as the sun. That’s what you’ve always been to him and he thought that he’d always think about you that way until…

Were you even wearing a bra? The way your nipples pebbled against your shirt… “Fuck.” He groans, collapsing onto his bed and closing his eyes while taking deep breaths as if it’ll erase the sinful thoughts plaguing his mind.

He can hear the laughter coming through his open window and Chan knows that the only way that he’s going to be able to survive spending the rest of the evening with you is to get off before facing you again. He’s lying to himself, praying that he can believe it as he closes his window curtains and sets the mood to help get through this easier. Chan’s not one for masturbation, he’s not opposed to it either but he’s always preferred mutual satisfaction over solo pleasure, however, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Like fucking his hand while thinking about taking you on the hood of his car.

Ambient music plays, the hexagon LED lights set to a sensual red as he lays his head on the pillow with his eyes closed. His large, calloused hands run over his body, gliding along the dips and rises of his abdomen slowly before moving back up; he’s painting a picture in his mind, a fantasy that he usually wouldn’t play with considering he’s not one to be touched during sex but wouldn’t you be curious? Wanting to map out his body with the same need that he’d have to learn yours, watching to know where to touch, what pressure to apply, and committing every inch to memory. 

To know it like it’s his own.

Mm… mmm…

He’s working himself up, fantasising about everything his mind can play as his heart races and his body temperature rises. The way you’d feel beneath him, how wet you’d be as he plunged his fingers deep into your core so that you were well and truly worked up. “Ah… fuck,” Chan bites his lip as he palms his erection, the hardness evident in his grey sweats and he looks down at how much of an effect you have on him in such a short amount of time. His imagination goes wild; his large hand being replaced by your smaller one as it rubs slowly over his clothed cock and the ache that comes with wanting to stroke himself grows with the fire in his abdomen. “Like that… yes…”

Chan has been one for delayed gratification. More so his partner than himself but it’s not unusual for him to drag it out… especially when his prize is on the other side of the door.

“Hss… ngh… good girl.” He breathes out as he grips the throbbing member wanting to be released. His hand pauses for a moment, so close to reaching inside and releasing himself as he opens his eyes and hears movement on the other side of the door. A smirk plays on his bitten lips as he realises you’ve caught him and tried to hide. He doesn’t know when you had made your way upstairs but it seems that your timing couldn’t have been better because Chan is only just getting started and nothing fuels the man more than knowing the effect he has on someone else.

If there’s no indication that you’ve tried to run away then he knows you’re caught up in him as much as he is caught up in you.

Moving slightly so that he can release his thick cock, the member slapping against his abdomen now that it’s not restrained, Chan reaches beside him and grabs the lubricant next to his bed. Usually, he’d use some proper lube but it’s been a while since he’s masturbated alone and a man has to use the resources around him.

Unless… fuck, his cock throbs at the thought of being buried deep inside you.

Using just enough to allow for a smooth glide, Chan wraps his hand around his cock and begins to stroke, groaning at the feeling and knowing that you’re listening. Are you wet? He wonders, thinking about you standing there in the hallway rubbing your thighs together. How long would you last before you’d need to feel some friction in between your legs, feel some stimulation against your engorged clit while having your nipples pinched and pulled?

How long until you’re begging him to fuck you?

You can hear the lewd sounds coming from his room and from the way he’s moaning, you know that those wet noises are his hand stroking his cock. You don’t know what to do. You do know what to do actually, it’s simply that you aren’t moving.

Escape. Rush back downstairs and tell Jax that you’ll get changed later for any reason that you can think of that doesn’t involve mentioning Chan masturbating.

Except you stay pinned to the wall.

Listening.

Biting your lip.

Imagining the sight.

“Just like that, baby,” You listen to the way Chan speaks, the deepness in his usually dulcet tones stoking the fire that’s building inside you. Clenching your fists, you close your eyes as you’re trying to will yourself away from the wall but all that happens is you moving towards the door and peeking around into his room.

Your eyes widen at the sight before you. You had already figured out that you’ll be unable to look Chan in the eyes again, but this is the moment that it finally sinks in that you will never be the same again. How could you be normal after this? How will you even be able to think about anyone else again when this is all that’ll be in your dreams?

Trying to avoid looking directly at his cock, your eyes move to his face, contorted in pleasure as Chan’s brow furrows and he bites down on his soft lips. Oh, how you’ve thought about the way they would feel against yours, the closest thing you’ve ever come to feeling his lips against you is when he’s kissed your forehead. It’s always been difficult not to wonder how they would feel trailing down the curve of your neck, the way his tongue would trace along your jugular as his hands ghost over your chest, not quite touching but teasing enough that…

A soft whimper leaves your lips as you clench your thighs together because now your gaze is wandering from those bitten clouds of lust down to his chest, body showing off that he does work out and take good care of himself and along his arms. You can see the shadows of his veins, something you’ve always noticed about him, the way his veins are always prominent in his arms and hands. You know exactly how his hands feel from the times you’ve played with his hands, trying to steal the bracelets that adorn his wrists only to have him wrap those large hands around your wrists.

Hands that are now wrapped around…

“Oh my–” 

You didn’t mean for it to come out so loud, you didn’t mean to bring attention to yourself but how were you meant to keep your reaction subtle, quiet, when Chan’s thumb was circling the tip of his cock and you imagined it being your tongue instead? How were you meant to keep yourself from nearly falling through his door when Chan let out the deepest grunt as he rolled his hips like that as he fucked his hand and made you want to be riding him?

Simply put, how are you meant to remain sane when in this moment, you’ve lost all sense of rationality?

There’s no denying that Chan caught you, that you brought attention to yourself and his eyes are on you, burning with an intoxicating mix of sex, lust, and sin. He holds your gaze, not letting go of his throbbing cock as he moves so that he’s now stroking himself while he plants his feet on the ground and sits on his bed to give you a full view. Abdomen tensed, free hand placed behind him so he can lean back as he rolled his hips.

“So pretty,” he says, barely loud enough for you to hear it but the world has faded enough so there’s nothing else that could steal this away from him. “How about you come here, princess?” You take a cautious step into his room, and then another, and that’s when your fate was sealed.

There’s no turning back now…

“Yo!” You hear Jax call your name and you freeze. Chan pauses, eyes on yours to keep you glued to your spot. “Have you changed yet?”

It’s not wise, Chan knows this, it’s not wise to tempt both of you into the abyss that’ll consume you the moment you succumb to it but what is he meant to do? You look too tempting for him to pass up a chance even if it means being caught. It's a risk that logically he wouldn’t make if it was anyone else, but if he’s always thought you deserved the world, why not make you feel on top of it?

“So pretty,” his lips pull up at the corner as he takes you in. Your shirt is damp, see through and he’s sure that you’re cold and needing to change from the goosebumps erupting over your skin but it could be whatever is charging the air between you. He sees the way your tongue peeks out and wets your lips before slowly being dragged back inside and without saying the words, Chan knows you’re thinking about wrapping your lips around his cock.

Fuck, maybe next time.

“How about you come here, princess?” He uses his free hand, the hand that propped him up, to reach out and encourage you closer. It shouldn’t be making his cock twitch with the way you’re so obedient, so caught up in the moment that you aren’t thinking about anything else other than him – until the moment is hit with a cold shower called reality.

Jackson.

Chan watches the conflict in your eyes as you think about the consequences of this and while that should be his thought as well – he’s not letting you get away. He’s quick, pants pulled back over his cock as he makes his way to you, pinning you against the wall. “Where are you going, princess?” Chan looks down at you, his messy hand wrapped around your waist while his other tilts your chin up so that you can see the desire in his eyes. “Do you not like what you see, hm?”

You stutter, “n-no, it’s just…” wow, you’re adorable, he thinks to himself. As you shake your head and try to figure out the reason why this could be a bad idea, Chan pushes his knee in between your legs, and almost as if your body is already under his control, you grind against him. “What if…”

“Good girl,” Chan whispers, lips so close to yours as you try to say coherent thoughts while grinding on his thigh. “Give it a minute, hm?” You nod and Chan doesn’t know whether you’re agreeing because he’s right and Jackson will leave, whether you trust that he wouldn’t lead you into trouble, or whether you’re just as horny as he is and don’t want to ruin the moment.

Whatever the reason, whatever it is that keeps your back against the wall, grinding and making him want to take you right now, he’s thankful for it. It doesn’t take long for the front door to close, and your brother decides to carry on without you. Chan looks proudly at your flushed cheeks as you try and reach that high you desperately want. “That’s a good girl~.” He praises and watches the way it affects you, “now, I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?”

You moan, biting your lip, “mm, yes.”

Chan tilts his head victoriously, a glint in his eyes, “Yes what?”

“Yes, please.”

[cocobirde]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 | JOHN DORY

request. @Striped_Scheme on wattpad Requesting a JD x Reader where they've been dating since BroZone days but he kinda just left her with no goodbye and tries to reconcile and convince them to come help and save Floyd lol ("Technically we never really broke up"☝🤓) word count. 2.2k warnings. the word fuck lol. timeline. pre-trolls trilogy, pre-trolls band together. song. baby it's cold outside with some slight alterations (tell me he wouldnt. i DAREEE you.) a/n. honestly. idea was good, but my writing was not it so apologies but love u... thanks for reading lolz... probably rushed... (i do that alot in my writing how to not rush help me) no doubt ooc characters, characters will always be ooc.

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"He's gone? What do you mean gone?"

Floyd could sense your distress. Panicked voice squeaking and your eyes darting all over the small backstage area for your boyfriend, on how exactly he could've left without you catching him.

You were in front of the stage, courtesy of being the partner of a band member, which was amazing but also granted limited viewing if they went too far back. From what you did see, the expressions were a solemn mixture of embarrassment, anger, disappointment.

You barely paid attention to the fans, who were also attempting to go in the same direction as you. Getting caught up in them took a whole lot of convincing the security.

But still, you were just at the door, and you heard him through it. Where had he gone? Was he okay? He fell from a very tall place in front of a crowd of fans, which was probably more damaging to him compared to actually getting injured—but not for you.

You watched him stumble backstage, stumble.

Baby Branch hid behind Floyd, wrapping the little leaf-sewn vest around his body, looking from his older brother to you, worried.

Where's the rest of the band?

"He just left. Everyone did. The band's..." Floyd paused, sighing, "BroZone's over."

You stood confused, your brows furrowing at his words. Over? How could they be over? This was just the start of their world tour. The band couldn't just break up over one failure.

"Over?"

They weren't that fragile, were they?

You loved all the brothers; they were like your own family, but your worries were set on only one of them for the time being.

"Did J at least say where he was going?"

Floyd nodded his head but remained unsure of what your thoughts would be on his answer. He glanced down at baby Branch, who was huddled around his leg.

"He was upset, really upset," he explained. "Said he was going to go hiking to the Neverglades... alone."

The change in your face told him everything, and he was quick to extend his hands in front of him. "But John Dory always says crazy things like that, and he never goes through with them. I'm sure he probably just went up to The Point."

That did seem like a logical explanation, and it was. Floyd may not have been the oldest, but he always had reason and logic behind his smart words.

"You're right." You were still stressed, no doubt, but that calmed your fears down. "Are you guys gonna be okay?"

Floyd spared another guilty glance at Branch and nodded, offering a soft smile and urging you to go look for your lover.

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The troll tree was huge, and even with its large size, it was hard to find any area that wasn't already occupied. Trolls made sure to take advantage of all their space; it was their home, and they made the most of it.

But even with every taken, there was one place that was free from everyone else.

A special spot reserved for you and your lover.

The Point.

Little knew about the spot, and those who did ensured it remained private.

Hidden in the leaves was a branch sticking out high enough to conceal the ugly Bergen town that surrounded them and gave them access to the beautiful night sky.

You and John Dory liked to go there a lot. Whether it be dates or to blow off steam (not like that for the weirdos), if he'd go anywhere after an accident like today, he'd go there.

He was very athletic and made a show of it whenever you'd go together, carrying you up. Bridal style or pulling you up with his strong locks—the point was, you had trouble going up on your own.

It took a while—a hard struggle—but it'd be worth it to see your boy up there and cheer him up.

They couldn't just break up; they just needed their leader to see that.

"John Dory?"

You called upon reaching the top, pushing the heavy leaves out of your way, careful not to slip off the branch.

"Baby, are you here?" Your voice was soft; you didn't want to alarm him. He could be really sensitive sometimes.

That thought brought a faint smile to your face. A smile fell upon the realization that he wasn't up here. If not up here, where could he have gone?

Home?

Knowing JD, you doubted it. If this was as serious as Floyd had put it, as serious as he looked, he wouldn't have just gone home.

And so your search ensued.

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You spent days looking for him. Not a spot in the tree was untouched or unsearched by you. Somehow, the troll had just disappeared. No signs. No letters. No goodbyes.

He left you alone to suffer. Wondering where he'd gone, if he was okay, and if you guys were okay.

It was a coincidence, truly.

How on the day you reminisce when he left you without even a word explaining his sudden disappearance all those years ago was the same day you'd find John Dory on your doorstep.

"Come on, baby, could you let me in?"

"Baby?" you scoffed, remaining with your back slammed against the door in exasperation. "You lost the right to call me that a very long time ago."

One moment you were having a nice day, reading a nice book by your fireplace, enjoying the pitter-patter of rain outside, and the thunder struck, shaking you in the best way possible.

And the next...

"It's cooold..."

He whined, banging on the door desperately.

You couldn't bear to look at him; the second you already spent doing so when you opened the door was enough. He had a face that you'd never forget.

How'd he even find you?

"Go. Away." you growled.

"But it's cold outside."

You clenched your jaw, glaring at the door handle as he shook it. JD used little effort to push at the door; by the weight of it, he could tell you were against it. Not that it mattered.

He was strong; he could easily open it if he wanted to.

"You simply must go."

"Baby, it's cold outside."

If John Dory thinks a little singing is enough to serenade you, he is more of an idiot than you are already aware he is. You weren't a teenager helplessly in love with a silly musician from next door, you were grown.

Mature.

His tricks weren't going to work on you.

"The answer is no."

"But baby, it's cold outside."

He put more pressure, pushing, and you cursed for the lack of a lock on your door.

Trolls don't do locks! They don't have anything to worry about!

Except ex-boyfriend's trying to come in and ruin your life all over again.

"The welcome has been-."

"You should feel so lucky I dropped in."

You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping with your words, "So nice and warm."

He pushed the door, slipping a leg in to stop it from shutting completely, peeking a crack. You groaned and peered through it at him.

Sharp glares were directed at him, and gosh, if only looks could kill, he would've dropped dead right now.

He looked stupid.

Stupid puppy eyes with his stupid goggles and a stupid pout on his stupid face. He was soaked from head to toe, the rain falling on him more and more every second he stood outside.

My, did he look pathetic?

BANG!

He shrieked, desperation on his face and voice, jumping at the loud crash of thunder, lighting up the dark sky.

He turned back to you, singing rapidly.

"Look out the window at that storm!"

"Ugh, okay! Come in!"

His face lit up, the door swinging open, and he rushed in, soaking your carpet with rain as you shut the door behind him, slamming it hard enough that the whole house shook with force.

He glanced at you in surprise, getting a glare in return.

JD opened his mouth to speak, obviously nothing nice with the smug look on his face, and you were quick to shut him down.

"Don't."

He clamped his mouth shut, smirking and holding his hands up in defense. "I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Stay."

You urged with a pointed finger, walking off to your bathroom in search of a towel.

"Yes, your majesty."

You hated him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't cruel. He might've been, but you weren't. Any troll would do the same as you; offer him some refuge from the storm outside.

Returning with a towel, you didn't bother passing it to him, tossing it and smacking him right in the face.

Maybe you were a little cruel.

He reacted with a huff, taking it and wrapping it around himself, not bothering to dry himself like ordered, but more like a shelter from the cold.

"Is that how you treat your boyfriend after all these years?"

John Dory tutted, shaking his head in disappointment as he took a single step in your direction.

"Boyfriend?" you scoffed.

"I mean, technically, we never broke up."

Oh, you wanted to punch his little ugly face so bad.

"You disappearing without saying anything was us "technically" breaking up." You did air quotations with another roll of your eyes, speaking before he did, exasperated.

"Why are you even here, John Dory?"

He stayed silent for a few moments, pondering what exactly to say. What could he say? He knew it was stupid of him to even come in the first place. He knew you'd be angry, upset, but not like this.

You didn't look the slightest bit happy to see him.

His smugness dropped along with his shoulders, and he took a breath.

"I need your help."

He looked dead serious. So serious.

You shook your head, your lips curling up in disbelief. "You need my help. Right." your arms crossed, "You leave, disappear off to who knows where, say nothing, suddenly come back after 20 years, and you decide you want my help?"

A short and dry laugh left you.

John Dory really was unbelievable.

"I knew you wouldn't want to see me..."

"I don't want to see you." You cut him off with a grimace, ready to say more-

He had that same desperate look.

Honestly, it brought you back. It brought you back to all those years ago, when both of you were young.

John Dory was always a terrible boyfriend, cocky and arrogant, bossy, too busy with BroZone to give you the time you needed. It hurt you. You loved him so much, and he didn't seem to always reciprocate those feelings. And each time you guys would argue and break up, he would be the first to return with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Leave me alone, John. You can't just come back and expect me to accept you. That's not how life works! If you wanna be in a relationship, you have to commit-..."

"Can you please just listen?"

He stared at you with a small pout, furrowed brows, eyes pleading into yours for you to give him a second chance. His stupid, loving eyes knew exactly how you worked. How exactly to work you.

The only difference right now was that he came empty-handed.

Nevertheless, it effectively shut you up.

"I fucked up all those years ago, I know. I fucked up leaving you. That's the biggest mistake I've ever made. I should've said goodbye, apologized, invited you to come with me- I should've done something!" He ranted, "But I didn't. And I just left..."

John Dory expected you to say something. One of your snarky remarks and cut him off, tell him he's wrong or right, and degrade him on what a terrible person he is because he is well aware of it.

But he's trying.

"Baby, you of all trolls know how terrible I am at apologies," he sighed.

And you didn't bother to correct him on your name; looking at him up and down, eyes still narrowed. You were still angry, you'd probably be angry for a very long time, but for the moment... you'd put it aside.

"What do you need help with?"

His face lit up, beaming at you at your acceptance, not denying him completely, not shunning the troll out, and kicking him back into the rain. You were hearing him out.

You noticed the look and huffed, "Just because I'm asking does not mean I'm going to say yes."

"Floyd's been kidnapped."

Your expression softened, and your mouth fell open in a quiet gasp.

"Kidnapped?"

"I got a letter from him saying he got kidnapped by popstars Velvet and Veneer." He went on and explained the story about how he went to see him and help him escape, only to fail: "-The only way to free him is by singing the perfect family harmony."

You loved Floyd to this day. It'd been years since you'd last talked to him, heard of him at all, but the same amount of affection you felt for the troll remained.

"I need to get the band back together. And... I really can't do it on my own. I'm not sure if they want to see me any more than you did-."

You cut him off a lot.

"I'll help," he grinned. "But not for you. For Floyd. Don't think I've forgiven you yet."

"Yet?"

"Shut up."

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[yan-lorkai]

Hii, Lorks ~

Had see that your writing for my favorie earl now, have any hcs for older sibling reader and young brother Ciel? Sorry about bad english, is not my first language

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Been busy with uni stuff but nothing couldn't stop me from writing this now that inspiration strikes me and since we're having a new season I began to reread the manga these past few days and wow, I still love this lil dude. Look at his smiled he knows he's adorable. The Green Witch arc remains my favorite <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, protectiveness.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You were a few years older than the twins, but you were very close to them as well as being a constant figure for them as they grew up. You were what they would describe as the best sibling in the world, even though you liked to make fun of them and make jokes that embarrassed them in front of people, like any good old sibling would do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you had free time, you enjoyed teaching them chess and other logic games, loving the way the expressions on their faces were confusing whenever you used a different strategy. These were simple times when the whole family would get together to watch you play while everyone chatted. Times that were lost after the attack, all the joy, all the warmth, that mixed with the sad blue of the wallpaper until it turned the entire mansion into something cold.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel came back, lost, deeply hurt, and you were the only person he told what happened. The whole kidnapping and the cult, and it broke your heart, your brilliant little brother was an unresponsive blank as he recounted the facts, as if he didn't want to realize the impact that that event had on him. As if he was still on autopilot and couldn't let his guard down. And things were worse now that he had lost his twin brother, who he was as attached to as you were.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But you were there to support him every step of the way, holding his hand after a nightmare, wiping the rare tears from his eyes, listening to everything he had to say. Ciel's stubborn and prideful, he never asks for help but he has this serene smile on his face when you go out of your way to help him anyway. You knew he was strong for withstanding all the pressure, for enduring everything he went through and for having the strength necessary to overcome everything, and you reminded him of that in each of his "weak moments". It reminded him that he was loved and that you would always be by his side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He's still twelve, he's still a child, and you're always telling him stories to sleep and taking him out to take his mind off his trauma. Sometimes you just sit next to him and listen to him express his thoughts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel can be a little overprotective sometimes, which is funny considering you should be the overprotective one due to the age difference. He always sends Sebastian with you on your errands, to protect you from some attack or someone. And you don't complain, his intentions are good and you can understand the anxiety he feels upon knowing that those responsible for the attack are free and alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Being a few years older, you know a lot about balls, about every important person and how to negotiate with them. And you teach each of these things to Ciel when he decides to claim the title of Queen's Watchdog, giving advice and sharing your opinion whenever he asks you, being by his side as his left hand.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And being his left hand means that you and Sebastian interact on a daily basis, protecting Ciel, going on missions together, collecting information and the such.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In private, when your masks can finally fall, you call him by his real name, hug him lightly and let him know that no matter what, you'll be there for him. Always.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel actually told you everything, everything except that he made a contract with a demon. He hopes you can forgive him when the contract is completed, when he and his soul disappear from this world, without any chance of seeing you one last time in the so-called paradise.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Even after your death, Ciel might remember the loving way you sat in the chair next to his bed when he was sick and took care of him. He will remember the silly promises you made, the bad jokes you told him to make him laugh until his stomach hurt, the little adventures to steal cookies on Christmas morning. Things too precious for him.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Replay - Bad Ending

Requested By: @f4gg0t-4-0b3y-m3

Part 1 - Part 2

Summary: No matter how hard you try to save your friends, death is unavoidable and they all meet their end. The Seven Demon Brothers + Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon & Solomon Featuring Luke, Raphael, Mephisto & Thirteen Warnings: Lots of angst! TW: Blood and Death Word Count: 5,436

A/N: The "Good Ending" to this story will be posted 08/08

You had spent countless hours formulating a plan with the others.

You shared multiple hugs of comfort and whispers of reassurances that you wouldn’t lose each other again.

And it was all for nothing.

You had to admit, you got your hopes up a bit.

You really believed that you were going to finally beat the nightmare that had been plaguing you for so long now.

It was easy to believe your friends when they had such high hopes and confidence.

It was easy to believe them when you were in their arms, feeling their heartbeat, as they promised not to leave you again. 

But, it was a promise they had no right to make.

Fate was out of their hands no matter how hard they tried to control it.

And the inevitable happened once again.

*

Lucifer had been the first to die. 

You would think that with how powerful he was, he would have managed to fend off his demise for longer than the others. That he would have found a way to preserve himself and survive.

But he had one weakness.

A weakness that was so strong that whenever it was threatened, he threw all caution and logical thinking out the window.

He lost control and attacked with only one concept driving him forward - protecting his family.

The moment he felt like his family was in danger, Lucifer went into defense mode. He saw red as he attacked furiously - recklessly.

The others were worried about him and expressed those worries, but everyone believed the eldest would find his way out of this situation.

They believed he would get them out of trouble just like he always did.

But, the attack came faster than he could dodge and all he could feel was searing pain as it made contact with him.

His eyes were wide as he was struck down, knowing that this time, his end was coming. And, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

You all watched in a mix of shock and horror as the eldest fell.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as the familiar pain of losing someone you loved so much started to overtake your senses.

You wanted to run to him - to try to save him. But, you wouldn’t be able to reach him in time.

And he didn’t want you to.

He had met your eyes with a somber expression and shook his head, telling you to stay back. He didn’t want you getting hurt too.

He was the oldest and it was his responsibility to protect everyone else even if it meant giving his life.

As his final moments approached though, he couldn’t help but feel like he failed you and his brothers.

He told you he would survive, that he would protect everyone, and yet he was the first to pass.

He had rebelled without a care in the world once before. It's what caused the Great Celestial War. And he knew that being careless could result in dire consequences.

If only he had taken a moment longer to think. If only he had formulated a plan instead of rushing in.

Maybe he wouldn't have met his end so soon.

Your body was tense as you watched Lucifer's body collapse to the ground.

You wanted to scream out in pain, but there was a sudden numbness that ran through you.

It overpowered your emotions. It overpowered your ability to move. 

You felt like your head was spinning as you realized - it was happening all over again.

*

Mammon was the next to go. 

After seeing Lucifer fall, Mammon accepted his role as the eldest brother.

He wanted to protect everyone just as Lucifer would have.

For every scummy or shady thing Mammon did, at the end of the day, he wanted to be a good brother.

And, he was determined to get everyone out of that place no matter what.

He was so much faster than his other brothers which meant he could help them dodge the attacks that were coming for them.

He had a good strategy. He managed to always stay one step ahead of the enemies.

He believed he could finally do something good to make up for all the cheap things he did to his brothers.

He believed he would finally be able to redeem himself in their eyes.

Then he looked to the side.

He saw you running as fast as you could, doing your best to survive just like the rest of them. You still looked so perfect.

His eyes widened as he saw an attack coming for you, and suddenly nothing else mattered.

He made his way to you as fast as he could, and your eyes locked as he took the blow that was meant for you.

Your heart stopped beating as Mammon slumped forward into you before the both of you fell to the ground.

You were cupping his face as tears poured down yours, desperately pleading with him to stay with you.

Mammon hated seeing you cry, but more than that he hated being the reason that you were crying.

You held his hand in yours as his eyes memorized every detail of your face. He wanted to remember it after he had passed.

He wanted to go out strong, like Lucifer had. But he held so much love for you.

And as his eyelids started getting heavier and heavier he couldn't help but seek out the validation he so desperately craved. He couldn't help but ask you to tell him he did good.

"I protected ya', right?" Mammon asked, his voice strained and his breathing labored.

You nodded your head as you did your best to hold your sobs in. "You always protect me, Mammon," you replied.

"Good. That's my job, ya' know? As your first," he responded, the words barely leaving his lips before he took his last breath.

And as his final words fell on your ears you couldn't help but place your forehead against Mammon's letting the tears freely pour down your cheeks as you lost the first demon you had ever made a pact with.

*

Levi had been panicking since the moment he watched Lucifer die.

Lucifer was the one who made all of the decisions. He was the one who always knew what to do.

Mammon had stepped up once the initial shock had passed. He had tried so hard to fill Lucifer's shoes.

But, when he was lost too, Levi knew he had to do something. If he didn’t, he would lose everyone.

Levi knew how to fight, and he knew how to fight well. He just preferred to fight in video games instead of in real life.

But now that the two oldest brothers were gone, Levi felt an immense amount of responsibility.

He got clarification on what it meant to be an older brother to the fullest extent.

He was the third-born for a reason, and he was going to make sure everyone knew it. No one messed with his family.

He brought every strategy he learned from his games to life, trying every attack pattern he knew.

He was going to beat this “final boss” just like he promised you he would.

You had been running alongside Levi, trying to help in whatever way you could.

Whether it be trying to protect the others or just trying to fight your way out, the two of you worked in tandem. Just like the Lord of Shadows and Henry would have. 

But you had turned your back for a second to block an attack and when you turned back around, you saw blood pouring out from a large wound on Levi's abdomen.

“L-Levi?” you asked, your brain trying to catch up with what you were seeing.

You had barely managed to get his name out before he fell to the ground.

You rushed forward, doing whatever you could to try and help him.

You noticed the look of fear in his eyes and you wanted to say something to soothe his worries.

You wanted to tell him anything you could to distract him from the pain he must have been feeling.

To take his mind off of the fact that it was only a matter of time before he passed away just like his older brothers.

But, the words you wanted to say didn't want to form in your mind or on your tongue.

You were speechless and instead of speaking, all you could do was try and fight the lump in your throat that was painfully forming.

Levi didn't blame you for not knowing what to say. He wouldn't know what to say either if the situation was reversed.

He took in one final shaky breath before muttering, “I wanted to be the hero.” 

*

Satan had never felt so angry before in his entire life. 

His wrath was at an uncontrollable level. A level he didn’t even know existed deep inside him.

Satan knew that he was born from Lucifer's wrath after the Great Celestial War.

He knew that he was born from the wrath of Lucifer losing his sister.

But, he didn’t know how painful it actually was to lose a sibling.

He hated Lucifer. He hated him because he didn’t want others to think he was a shadow of him.

But Lucifer was still his brother - his oldest brother. Who would he have to curse or cause trouble for without him?

And Mammon? Satan couldn’t count how many times he had called him scum or told him how stupid he was.

Even if he believed those words at certain moments, he had seen the times Mammon tried to be a good brother.

He had seen the times Mammon tried to make up for it. Why hadn’t he commented on those times?

But, poor Levi.

He had been so happy as a shut-in and Satan couldn't help but wonder if he’d still be with them if everyone hadn’t been so adamant on getting him to come out of his room.

He deserved better.

The pain of losing them and regret is what fueled his anger to the point where it was a burning hot fire raging inside of him.

He attacked without care. He had done the calculations in his head.

He knew that he wasn’t going to make it out of his fight. He knew that he didn’t stand a chance.

But, he wanted to do as much damage as possible before the end.

A small taste of revenge that he hoped would offer him some sense of gratification.

There was blood everywhere and Satan was clearly wounded. But he didn’t stop, not until someone made him stop.

And as the final strike was given to him, he met your eyes.

The wrath dissipated in them and filled with love.

He was desperate to comfort you, to tell you it would be okay.

But soon the love left his eyes and faded to emptiness and you felt your heart shatter.

*

Asmo was a weeping mess. 

You wouldn’t think that the Avatar of Lust knew how to love.

He was charming and manipulative when he wanted to be.

He went through beings like they were comments on his top Devilgram post without a second thought as to who he was casting aside.

He had countless notches in his bedposts and while others may have had some guilt about the number of people they slept with, he was eager for more.

He wanted to have a piece of everyone. To prove he was the most loved.

So, it was natural to think that Asmo was self-centered and unsympathetic.

It was natural to think that he didn’t have a heart and that he didn’t know how to say those three little words and actually mean them.

But underneath the facade he put on for others - underneath the mask he wore to hide his true feelings, Asmo had the biggest heart.

And that heart was now shattered into pieces.

He loved his brothers unconditionally.

It didn’t matter how many times Mammon stole from him. It didn’t matter how many times Satan destroyed part of the house in a fit of rage. Deep down, Asmo knew that he loved his brothers and he always would.

But, now they were gone.

Asmo was good at comforting others.

He knew how to pamper them and which essential oils were the most comforting. He even knew the softest brand of tissues to not damage your skin. But, comfort wasn't what was needed right now.

He needed to protect you and the twins. That’s what his older brothers would have wanted.

How was he supposed to do that though?

He hesitated.

The next thing Asmo knew was that he was on the ground in pain.

You were kneeling next to him and Asmo couldn’t help but think that if you were the last thing he saw, he could die happy. 

You gently brushed his hair out of his eyes as one of your tears fell onto his cheek.

Asmo reached up to wipe your tears away and it only caused a new wave of them. 

He could feel himself slipping away, and he was scared. Scared that he would never see you again.

“There’ll be a next time, right?” Asmo asked, his eyes full of hope. 

You nodded your head and told him, “I promise.”

He had the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he passed.

*

Beel was beside himself with sorrow.

He couldn’t believe this was happening again.

He had taken it so hard when he lost Lilith.

The guilt and sadness of losing his little sister nearly broke him.

And that was after losing one of his siblings.

He just lost five of them.

Beel had snapped and went on a rampage.

He felt like a bull seeking out a red cape, but instead of a cape, he was seeing red everywhere. He wanted to charge at anything and everything that moved.

He had been a great warrior up in the Celestial Realm. He knew how to fight. So, how did this happen? What had he done wrong?

He had gone on many rampages for hunger, but it was nothing like the rampage he went on for agony.

You and Belphie had tried to stop him from barreling forward, but he was too far gone and too strong for the two of you to hold him back.

In his head, he was protecting you and Belphie.

He believed he was clearing a path for the two of you. That if he could hold the attackers off, then you and Belphie could escape.

But, in reality, he was only killing himself.

Belphie felt like he had been ripped in half as he watched his twin get struck.

He wanted to run to help him, but there was nothing he could have done.

You held Belphie’s hand, trying to pull him away from the scene, but he wouldn’t budge.

Time felt like it had stopped moving.

Beel’s eyes filled with so much love and sadness as he looked at the two of you.

There was nothing more he could do but pray that the two of you would find a way to make it out.

That the two of you would find a way to be okay. 

*

Belphie was absolutely devastated as he felt his entire world crashing down.

You were doing everything you could to pull him out of the way - to safety. But, he was fighting back. He wanted to be with his brothers.

“Belphie,” we have to move, you pleaded with him. 

He looked into his twin's eyes, the usual life they held completely drained out of them.

He continued to scan the area, his eyes landing on each one of his dead brothers.

The only reason he had coped with Lilith’s death was because he had his brothers to lean on - to comfort him. But, now, there was no one.

He lost everything.

“Belphie!” you begged, trying once again to pull him up.

No, he hadn’t lost everything.

He still had you. The perfect human who cared so much about him and his family.

He had made you a promise that he would survive for you. He made a promise not to die.

He had to keep his promise. He wanted to keep that promise. He needed to move.

He finally convinced his body to go with you despite the protest his emotions were giving him.

But, as he finally stood up, he realized that the brief delay he had was a mistake. He was too late. 

He barely managed to get to his feet when he was struck down just like his brothers, knocking him right back down. 

Your hands were immediately on him, trying to stop the bleeding as you asked him over and over again not to leave you too.

He knew the situation was unfair to you. He knew that you didn’t deserve this pain.

But, he was okay with it. After all, he was the Avatar of Sloth and he was simply going to sleep.

More than that, he was going to see his brothers again. He would make sure of it - even if it was only his dreams.

“Wake me up when it’s over,” Belphie told you with a small smirk, the same teasing glint in his eyes that was always there. 

He tried to remain brave, but there was a hidden message behind his words.

He was silently praying that you would tell him you would wake him up again.

That you would find a way to restart the timeline again. That this wasn’t the end to your contradictorily long and short-lived story.

*

Solomon had been hopelessly firing off magic attack after magic attack.

He was trying so desperately to control the damage - to stop the carnage from continuing to happen. 

He had felt the searing pain of when his pact broke with Asmo’s death. He wanted to mourn the demon. To mourn all of them.

But there was no time. If he stopped for a brief moment to let his emotions overtake him, he knew that he would be the next to go.

The brothers were gone which meant that it was his responsibility to get you out of this mess. His adorable apprentice.

If he could make sure you survived - if he could survive - then he would be there to help you next time.

He may not have been able to keep his promise of keeping everyone alive this time.

But, if he could find a way to get the two of you out here, he would find a way to make everything right. 

He would find a way to prevent all of this from happening again. He wouldn’t stop until he did. He would make that new promise to you.

But those hopes and dreams of his were lost when he suddenly found himself being met with the same fate as the seven rulers of the Devildom.

You told him that he had died prior to these events taking place, but he still couldn’t help but want to laugh.

The idea of him dying after doing everything in his power to become immortal was funny to him.

And even though you had told him about the inevitable, he never would have believed it would have actually happened.

You held Solomon's hand as you watched his once mysterious blue eyes begin to dull.

There was nothing Solomon wanted more than to get back up and keep fighting; but, even he had limitations.

He couldn’t leave you completely lost again though. He refused to.

So, he pulled out a charm and chanted a spell over it, enchanting it with all of the memories that he had of you and the others. 

All you had to do next time was give it to him and he would remember.

He wouldn’t let you be alone in this world.

He would make sure you never felt this pain again.

*

Simeon was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He was trying to figure out how you all ended up here. How they all ended up dead.

Solomon had become a good friend of his since living together in Purgatory Hall.

He had grown to love the sorcerer’s antics and had fun chasing him out of the kitchen.

And the brothers - well, they were once his brothers as well. Before they fell.

And despite them being demons now, Simeon still felt like he was losing his family when he witnessed their deaths.

But the one that completely shattered him and brought him to his knees was Luke’s death.

The sweet, little, innocent angel had followed you all into battle. He did everything Simeon asked.

He stayed on the sidelines, watching idly by as the others went down one by one.

He wanted to help. But what could he do? He was still just a fledgling. 

He had reached out to grab Beel’s hand - to try and save him from his own demise.

That’s when Luke had been struck down as well. 

Simeon immediately pulled Luke into his embrace, cradling the young angel as sadness overwhelmed his features. 

Luke’s kind and innocent eyes turned to ones of confusion and fear. Was he going to die before he had a chance to really live?

He had many years alive, but it was nothing in comparison to how long an angel was supposed to live.

Simeon clutched the young angel tightly as his life dwindled until there was nothing left. The darkness claiming Luke’s grace.

He unashamedly shed tears over his body, letting his emotions take over.

But, then he heard you.

Simeon’s eyes immediately snapped up to you, blinking through his tears as he got a grasp on his thoughts again.

You were kind and innocent, just like Luke. And he would protect you.

You were once again running, trying to avoid the relentless attacks that were targeting you.

You were reaching a dead end, and there was nowhere else to go.

You were finally going to suffer the same ending that you had witnessed everyone else suffer.

You turned your back to your attackers, waiting for the onslaught of pain that accompanied death, but instead, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you.

You dared yourself to open your eyes and saw Simeon standing behind you, his arms holding you close to him as his wings shielded you from getting hurt. 

He took the barrage of strikes until they were done, holding out until the last second.

As the assault finally stopped, Simeon fell to the ground, his body giving out to the pain that he was suffering.

“Simeon,” you tried to say, but he gave you a smile that shushed all of your worries.

“We’ll see each other again,” he promised you.

*

Raphael had shown up late to the party. Too late.

By the time he had heard word of what was happening and arrived, he had lost everyone he went down there to protect.

He tried to ignore the pang in his heart as he saw the corpses of Simeon and Luke. The kind and caring angels who always tried to be perfect role models.

He didn’t want to feel the sorrow that sparked inside of him as he saw his former brothers’ bodies as well. Their vivacious features replaced with cold ones. 

He was angry. Their assailants needed to be punished, and he would make sure that he did the punishing properly.

He rained down a myriad of spears, taking out as many of them as possible. 

He managed to take out a large number. He was one of the highest-ranking angels, after all.

But, even he found himself unable to escape from death.

And as he was struck down with the same weapon that he was so fond of sporting, he couldn’t help but wonder if things would have turned out differently if he arrived sooner.

*

The royals were all that was left of the large group you cared so much about. 

With the way the number of enemies had dwindled, those who were still alive believed that they might stand a chance.

But you knew better than to hope for the best.

Everyone else had put up a valiant fight, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Mephisto was the first among the three nobles to fall.

His family had a long tradition of swearing to serve and protect the royal family. And he refused to disregard that promise. 

He would ensure that he fulfilled that pledge down to the smallest meaning of it.

He fought off as many attacks as he could until they became too much to bear.

That’s when he used his own body as a shield to protect the Prince of the Devildom.

Mephisto knew that it meant he would suffer a quick and painful death just like the others had.

But, if he died carrying out the oath that his lineage lived by, he was okay with it. He would die a hero in their eyes.

Barbatos was the next to go, his devotion to Diavolo just as strong as Mephisto’s.

Barbatos had taken a pledge of loyalty to the future King.

And his responsibilities went much further than simply pouring his tea or fixing his meals. 

Barbatos was smart - he knew that putting up a fight wouldn’t save either you or the young lord.

But, he would be damned if he went out without trying.

He wished he had looked into the future when he had the chance to. Back when he first found out about you and the situation you were in.

He only used his abilities when Lord Diavolo expressly asked him to.

But, if he had done it for himself, just this once, he would have been able to stop this from happening.

He would have prevented the tragedy and sorrow that occurred today.

He would have prevented you from the pain of having everyone forget about you once again.

He had never failed to meet someone’s expectations before. He had never failed to exceed someone’s expectations.

But as he lay on the painfully hard ground, struggling to take his last breaths, he understood that he had failed to meet yours.

He failed to meet Diavolo’s.

He failed to meet everyone’s.

He took a deep breath and one final thought escaped from his lips as he whispered, “Please forgive me.”

*

It was only you and Diavolo now. 

And he was holding you close to him, not allowing any sense of danger to come close to you. 

He had lost everything. He had lost everyone. 

The former angel who he considered his best friend. The brothers who he had grown so close to. His kind and helpful angel exchange students. The only human who he had known for centuries. The angel who helped convince Michael to approve of his idea. His faithful courtier. And, his loyal butler.

They were all gone - reduced to corpses as if they weren’t some of the most powerful beings in all three realms.

And yet, here you were, arguably seen as the weakest amongst the group and yet you had managed to survive.

Diavolo would ensure that you continued to do so. He refused to lose you too.

He fought his way through the remaining enemies fearlessly. They were brutally wounding him, but Diavolo pressed on.

His wounds were lethal, but he wouldn’t stop fighting until the last one dropped. Until you were finally safe. 

He would make sure that he stayed strong until the very end. Like any good ruler would do.

When Diavolo had finally taken care of the last enemy, he allowed himself to collapse into your arms. 

You had cried over each and every death. You weren’t even sure how you still had tears to produce at this point.

But they flowed abundantly nonetheless as you held the last of companions close to you.

It didn’t matter if you had seen them all die before. It still felt like someone was driving a knife through your heart every time. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this from happening,” Diavolo admitted as he looked into your grief-stricken eyes. 

You brushed a few stray scarlet locks out of his face before reassuring him, “You did everything you could.”

His breathing was getting more and more labored and you knew that it was only a matter of moments now before he was gone too.

He pushed through the pain to reach up and gently rested his hand against your cheek.

He wanted to take away all of your pain, but he knew that he was in no position to do so.

His hand was growing heavy - too heavy to keep it pressed against your cheek. And as it fell back to the ground, he spoke one final goodbye to you.

“May we meet again.”

*

As the life faded from Diavolo’s eyes, you finally let your walls crumble.

You let yourself feel every ounce of despair that was coursing through your veins as you let out loud sobs, unable to hold them in any longer.

You had done everything you could think of. You had tried every battle strategy. You had performed every incantation. You had planned for every situation. But no matter what you did, you always ended up here. You always ended up alone.

Why couldn’t you save them?

And as that question burned through your mind, you felt another presence standing beside you. 

Right, there was one person who hadn’t died.

But her presence was not welcome here because you knew she wasn’t there to be a friend. She was there to reap their souls.

“I’m sorry,” Thirteen stated quietly, the massacre taking even her by surprise.

She felt an unexpected wave of anguish hit her as she looked over the bodies of those she had come to know.

You looked up at her and you could see the sympathy in her eyes.

She was genuinely sad and she couldn’t help but want to console you in some way.

But that wasn’t her specialty and she didn’t know where to start.

“What happens now?” she asked you, knowing that you had been here before. You must have a plan, right?

Part of you wished that you could walk away from this situation.

You wished that you could turn your back and move on with your life.

That you could forget about them and evade the torment that you had been suffering for far too long.

You were tired of reliving the same pain over and over again.

You were tired of the agonizing farewells and the horrid images of their deaths that filled your dreams every night.

You had played the story too many times.

It was like a never-ending book or a movie that should have ended an hour ago.

You just wanted to escape.

But you loved them too much.

You would never be able to say goodbye for a final time.

Not when there was something you could do about it. 

Life wasn’t worth living without them, even if it meant living the same life over and over again.

You couldn’t leave them.

They needed you; and, you needed them.

“Now, I try again,” you answered the reaper, standing up. 

She didn’t dare move as she watched your motions.

She couldn’t even begin to comprehend the emotional, mental, and physical pain you were experiencing right now.

But you were putting everyone else before yourself, just like you always did.

You were using them to fuel your motivation to keep fighting. 

And as you restarted the timeline once again, Thirteen understood just how deeply your feelings for everyone ran. 

*

Everything was dark. Something that you had come to find peace in.

Your initial thought would be to believe that you were in a dark room. But, you knew that wasn't true.

Your eyes were closed. And you wanted to keep them closed for longer.

Because you knew what would happen when you opened them.

You knew the joy and laughter that you would experience. And you knew the pain and sorrow that you would experience too.

It all started with you waking up.

And as much as you wanted to pretend like you were still asleep, you knew this moment was unavoidable.

That it was only a matter of time before they would see that you were feigning your slumber.

So, with a shaky breath, you opened your eyes, waiting to hear those words that you had come to dread.

“Welcome to the Devildom, Y/N.”

[whumpbby]

TBH I do think some Jiang disciples did survive the Lotus Pier massacre, if only because they had been elsewhere when it happened/too old or too young to fight so they ran (<-which could be a fun thing to grapple with for both the potential run-aways and newly recruiting Jiang Cheng, who was sent away), but it still wasn't enough people to be called Great Sect. So I think as you say they recruited anyone they could, including some rouge cultivators and some from smaller sects that were destroyed or taken over by the Wen Sect. I don't think they tried to recruit - while the Sunshot campaign was going - a lot of people without active golden core, because they would simply have little time to train them between the battles. Some probably did manage to join the Sect like that, and these would probably grow quite close to people who taught them between the fights.

Also Jiang Cheng having to be at least one of these teachers, because they are short on the disciples but shorter in those trained in Jiang style even more so. And how after the war he must've been doing that still, on top of having the sect to run as both Leader and Head Discipline (because Wei Wuxian was going through things he chose to neither explain or acknowledge) (1/2)

(2/2) Also Jiang Cheng, who almost had to watch his brother get caught by the Wen soldiers when he went off alone in the streets, WOULD try and make his disciples work in big enough groups to protect themselves. Also also Jiang Cheng that seems to go off alone rather often.

Oh, and Jiang Cheng throwing his weight around when his disciples get into some sort of disagreement/scuffle every time, and being harsh on the other party (totally not because of finally being able to shield someone he cares for) and never satisfying the questions about the punishment (totally not because of his mother and Zidian and Wei Wuxian). Even when Jiang disciples were in the wrong. Not meaning there was no disciplinary action, just that it never went outside the sect.

Also taking in some non-cultivators that are good at other things (like Jiang Yanli!) or people who lost their golden cores but can still fight and teach (because he remembers not having a golden core and how that felt like; and maybe he realises somewhere along the way that he might've been able to live without one too; which would certainly add even more flavour to learning whose golden core really was inside him all along).

The latter headcanon is also so amazing because resurrected Wei Wuxian would have to confront how he dealt with the loss of his core and finally stop saying he is fine and reflect on his feelings about all this, including Jiang Cheng

____________________________________________________

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me :D I am so absolutely taken over by this subject!

This is why I'm writing these things, I love to discuss them with other peeps:)

Your message pushed me onto another path of wild speculation via the mention of the other smaller sects that JC would approach to recruit - and that pushed me into the economics of Jinaghu and their influence on the post-war lay of the landXD

Which I am putting under the cut, because it's a lot of rambling to get to a point, but that's how it is in these parts;]

Also, the map I will be using, because it's as good as any other:

From the beginning - smaller sects yes, there was probably not a shortage of them that were destroyed by the Wen passing through and by the blowback of the war happening at all. I imagine that anyone from lone survivors to whole families was displaced…

But I am unsure if inviting them in would be a good idea in JC's position, because, going back to the main point - the Jiang were decimated. I can only go by what the story tells us when it doesn't mention any extra survivors - the Wen banning other sects from night-hunts was a nifty set-up for everyone being stuck at home after all - even if, logically, some of the disciples could be in other locations… however, even if they were, these wouldn't be the meat of Yunmeng Jiang. Because…

…random tangent no 1, because this is a low-fantasy setting (thinking of Game of Thrones I am), I am structuring the Sects as Just Gentry. Maybe not kingdoms outright - because there doesn't seem to be enough land between them to cover for their economic statuses - but city-states ruled by aristocratic bloodlines with the actual political power in their hands. Thus, even if the book doesn't really go into it, I'd wager that the region of Yunmeng was run by the extended Jiang family that was living in the capital of Lotus Pier. That's where the disciples were trained - but that was most likely also where the taxes were being collected, where the trade arrangements happened, where the law was being written, higher education took place, it had the best restaurants, etc.

When the Wen destroyed Lotus Pier, they did away with the whole socio-economic and political setup of the region, which is a smart move for someone who wants to set up their own shop.

…And that circles me back to JC and recruiting - he wasn't just gathering disciples to fight, he was rebuilding a whole intricate system of governance from scratch. A system that used to be run by the extended family that he could trust - now was something he was staffing with strangers.

And, from the example of Su Minshan, we know how jumping sects was considered to be in bad taste - it stands to reason that whatever decimated sect showed up on JC's doorstep, they wouldn't want to give up their own name. Just like JC wasn't going to give up his name. These people would be looking for an alliance and revenge, and, most likely, economic help in their own rebuilding, but most of them weren't looking to join the Jiang. And if they were - what was the guarantee that they'd stay? Or that they wouldn't use JC to meet their own ends and leave him worse for it? Or simply take over due to sheer numbers? A valid fear for a clan of 1 that had to seem ripe for picking.

I think JC would be very careful about accepting disciples from existing sects as his own, and instead build alliances with them. A rogue cultivator or a promising youth looking for a place to settle were a safer bet to build the core of his new sect with. Not to say that some of these alliances wouldn't result in the smaller sects merging into the Jiang later on by osmosis, but not at the outset…

Which leads me to believe that JC would want to start taking in and training coreless youths as soon as humanly possible - just to have someone at his back who was OF Yunmeng Jiang and not just allied with them. Maybe not during the beginning of the war, but by the time Lotus Pier was reclaimed things were probably going this way. If you think about it, Jiang Cheng was a fucking powerhouse of a leader. I have no idea when he slept. Probably not at all.

Probably why he was so cranky XD

That's why I am of firm opinion that the alliance by marriage with the Jin sect was a double-edged sword JC wasn't in a position to refuse, but also wasn't in a position to wholeheartedly accept. (And everyone who thinks that JC 'sold' Yanli to JGS for all these doubloons is just plain old wrong). Because now they're family. Only family he has. And that family can slowly find their way into the important positions of his own 'kingdom', because that's how gentry/aristocracy tends to work in a setting putting that much value on bloodlines, and he doesn't have his own family to plug these positions with ahead of time.

And even if JGS wasn't super eager to marry his son to JYL and the marriage was mostly pushed by Madame Jin and Jin Zixuan - it was in JGS's best interests for Yunmeng Jiang to remain weakened and/or under his control. Because….

…tangent nr 2- economics! :D

The plot doesn't go into it, but I like to know, so I was thinking of the actual economics of the magical land of magical peopleXD I don't need them to be detailed, but just realistic enough to make some sense, and serve as a believable background. I'm not going to question the existence of potatoes or other anachronisms, but one thing I needed to answer for myself was - where is all the money coming from???

Like, for real, where is the cash coming from for all the silks, fancy furniture, houses, swords and so on. How are the gentry sects making money?

Again, the genre, like many others, waves away monetary concerns in general - aristocrats are just wealthy, commoners are poor, and Bilbo Baggins is a landlord. OK.

So, taxes. What makes sect a Great one? Land, mostly, it would seem. The amount of land they own. Which means taxes - if we consider the Gentry sects local aristocracy. That tracks, because ain't no way they'd earn that much dosh via night-hunts from a population that isn't really that large. If you look at the approximate map of the whole realm and consider how fast people are moving from one region to another (even including flying swords and donkey-travel) that ain't a lot of land/people to feed all these sects fleeting about between the 5 Majors.

So, my idea is that the small sects do support themselves mostly via night-hunting and general spiritual upkeep of their locals, but the Greats are just aristocracy and live off of taxes and trade.

And that makes me wonder how Yunmeng Jiang managed to recover their wealth in such a record time, and why was the Jin so wealthy for apparently doing so little.

I propose that Lanling Jin grew out of a port-city and made its money on sea-trade. Sea trade was always The Shit if you wanted to, dunno, gild your palace in gold or something.

Yunmeng - with its access to lakes and rivers - was another trade hub of the realm with the additional bonus of lotus, fish and all other crops a well-watered land can give you.

Qishan - being the most West-ward placed of the Great sects we know of, had to have access to - or even monopoly over - the intercontinental trade routes, or a lot of raw materials available. But at the same time, being a mountainous region, it wasn't rich in water and water-intensive crops. I think that once the material appetite of the Wen upper echelon grew, the more they needed to look towards consuming other regions to sustain it.

Annexing Yunmeng was a good strategy from that point of view - it fixed the water issue and also opened new trade routes towards the South and East via the rivers.

But then the Wen were defeated - and all that West-ward trade potential suddenly was left unattended, and JGS would be a fool to let it slip through his fingers. And the only 'large' clan placed close enough to was Yunmeng.

Stands to reason that, somehow, JC managed to wrestle some of that for his own people to refill the coffers. Gusu was too far and not a trade hub by any means, and Nie Mingjue/Huaisang seemed uninterested in reaching out for it, so the only serious competition on that front were the Jin… Which, again, JC somehow managed to outsmart there, because I do not believe for even a moment that a fierce economic battle wasn't fought as soon as the military operations ended.

[bluebayousblog]

RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 10)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: isobel & drew and their families attend the company business cocktail

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART NINE

“You should’ve seen the look on her face when she saw it was me in storage room and not you.”

Drew was doing his best to act disinterested as his younger brother Chandler rambled on about Isobel. He didn’t even have to initiate the topic of conversation, as soon as he slipped into his truck Chandler was detailing every part of the interaction he had with her earlier in the day.

He wasn’t expecting to be driving the two of them to the cocktail tonight, but internally he didn’t mind his brother’s company if it entailed Drew listening silently while he talked about the girl racing through his mind. It felt like she was running through his veins, coating the tip of his tongue, and embedding herself into his brain. For the past two weeks his mind and body had been consumed by her, and after leaving that room he swore he could see a glimpse of her each time he closed his eyes to blink.

This wasn’t the first time Drew had liked a girl, he’d experienced the first fleeting moments of a crush when all of his thoughts consisted of them, but those were physical relationships. Situations where he wasn’t looking past a hookup and women he hadn’t cared about.

Hearing that Isobel was looking forward to seeing him at some point before their impromptu meeting in her bedroom warmed his heart in way he’d only felt with her. In the same way that he felt hearing her tell him that she missed would have. He feigned for that warmth from Isobel, it was something he wanted to chase to the ends of the earth—like a drug addict trying to chase that first high from the most potent drug.

“You have my girl under a spell-“

“Your girl?” Those were the first words Drew had spoken since he put his car in drive. Now they were exiting the vehicle in the parking lot of the C&S building.

Chandler’s grin was wide as they rounded the front of the truck to step onto the sidewalk that led to the entrance of the event. He knew he shouldn’t be reacting to to an eighteen year old’s words that held absolutely no weight, he was also aware that he should probably shut the conversation down because they were literally standing a few feet outside the family business—but here he was anticipating his brother’s next words so he could crush whatever fantasy he had playing in his head.

“Yes, Drew, just because you’ve somehow convinced her to want you doesn’t erase the fact that I’ve wanted her for two years.” Chandler looked smug as he spoke making Drew’s eyes roll in annoyance at how juvenile his logic was.

He rested his arm on the hood of his truck and swallowed down the irritation in his throat, “I didn’t convince Isobel to do anything.” The look on Chandler’s face was incredulous as if hearing the words out loud made it even more unbelievable.

He still hadn’t explicitly admitted to being involved with Isobel, Chandler just assumed and they now went on as if it was an understood thing. He didn’t owe any explanation to anyone, and especially not to him. What he and Isobel had came naturally, an unexpected thing that was almost ten years in the making and knocked his world sideways.

She was a beautiful woman in ways he hadn’t found beguiling in someone he was attracted to until he saw those qualities in Isobel. Her outer beauty was captivating any man could see that, but it was what she showed him on the inside no matter how stubborn she was that made his heart pound in admiration. Isobel was sweet to people who didn’t deserve her respect, resilient in moments where most would lose control, and willing with her heart when it came to him—a man who took years to notice her.

She got her heart broken the first time she braved herself to give it to a man that took her for granted, but on that random afternoon in December she was fearless in giving a piece of herself to Drew.

“So you’re telling me after all this time she just willingly gave you of all people a chance?”

Drew smiled at the thought of it, in simple terms that had been exactly what happened between them and he wouldn’t ever take that for granted. He couldn’t shake the smile as he began to walk down the sidewalk, giving him a shrug before mumbling, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, buddy.”

Chandler jogged behind him, the sound of his leather dress shoes hitting the pavement as he caught up with him within a few steps and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. One notable attribute about men in their family was their height, and somehow his younger brother had a few inches on him. It was nothing any one loosely observing would notice, but a fact two brothers realized when he eventually surpassed him last year.

“Well, at least tell me who made the first move.” He grabbed Drew’s arm so he would stop his trek into the front doors, “Just put me out of misery so I don’t have to wonder.”

His mind reeled at his question, immediately going back to that first intimate moment with her. When his eyes drunk her in as she lounged comfortably on the sofa with her face bare of any makeup in her most natural state, and that switch went off that made him feel like he had to have her. That made him want to touch and graze every inch of her with his hands, and kiss her until the feeling of her sweet lips was imprinted into his own.

His desires felt so dire in that moment when he gave into them and stole that kiss from her mouth. Looking back he realized everything felt purely physical in that moment, it was spontaneous as they both clung to the high of a first hookup, but as he reflected he just appreciated that she could trust him enough to let him in.

Drew just kept his gaze neutral as he stared back at his brother who looked desperate for an answer that wasn’t coming, but he did offer him a look that made instant relief wash over Chandler’s face. A simple raise of his eyebrows and cock of his head was enough to satiate his curiosity, “Of course! That’s all I needed to know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Chandler?” Drew questioned. He was now the one stopping the other from entering the cocktail, and once again anticipating his next words.

A chuckle rumbled from Chandler’s mouth obviously finding this situation amusing more than devastating to his ego, “It means I didn’t see it at first, but after figuring this all out ever since you’ve gotten back the look on your face looks like someone who accidentally struck gold.”

Isobel’s inappropriate actions in the last hour forced her to ruin the impending outfit reveal she had in store for her mother. Lora was the only person in the household who cared enough to own a steamer, and unfortunately she had insisted to be the one to get the wrinkles out of the dress.

The dramatic gasp she let out when she saw the dress hanging on her wardrobe door wasn’t as entertaining as it would have been if she saw it on her body when she made her way down the stairwell. Isobel had always hated being the center of attention, but she couldn’t deny that she loved the moments her mother looked at her as if she was the center of her world.

Someone looking at you that way made a feeling of pressure wash over anyone to continue to be the person who deserved to be perceived that way. With a mother that type of love was unconditional, she knew Lora would gaze at her that way for the rest of her days—but with a man that wasn’t guaranteed. So when she looked at Drew whenever his blue eyes fell on her in admiration or simply just to look at her and she saw that familiar twinkle it unnerved her.

She’d been stupid enough to put someone on a pedestal like that once in her life, she knew that she was capable of feeling for someone that intensely. Her last relationship had even taught her someone could mimic that stare that made her feel whole and wanted, but she wasn’t scared of Drew deceiving her, it was that she could do something that didn’t live up to this idea of her he displayed so clearly in his eyes.

She finished doing her makeup and unrolling her hair until a mass of silky curls framed her face while her mother steamed her dress to perfection, and when she finally stepped into the event clad in the white dress that made Lora so happy with a pair of four-inch heels tapping the glossy floors each step, she felt amazing.

Her father, more formally known as Richard Cooper, approached them just as the nice attendant checked her coat, “My, my, my, my don’t my girls look beautiful tonight.”

He smoothly kissed their hands before gently grasping and lifting them up to twirl her and her mother around. Lora was wearing an elegant and dazzling, black gown that gracefully flowed down her body and showed off her bronzed shoulders. Richard always looked at Isobel with great esteem from when she was an impressionable little to girl to now as a well-rounded young adult. That look had always made her feel special and seen, it was different than how she felt with her mother. The difference wasn’t major, but it was something she took note of as she got older. She’d never met anyone else like her father and there would never be another man that could come close.

She loved the feeling of being around family, the only word to describe that feeling that would encapsulate it would be that it felt like home. It was something she could only hope to find in a lover. She knew it was out there somewhere, but she also knew that it was possible to find that feeling in the wrong places.

She stood aside when he turned to give his full attention to his wife, wrapping his big, burly arms around her as they took each other in. Isobel admired her parents for about a minute before her eyes began to wander around the crowded ballroom looking for one man in particular.

“Isobel you look stunning this evening.” The voice sounded like Drew’s but this one was deeper and well seasoned with age. She twisted around on her feet to face Charles Starkey, her father’s business partner and Drew’s father. A smile she could never seem to fight when it came to him broke onto her lips.

She said she’d never met another man that could compare to all that her father was, but Charles came pretty close, “Thank you, Chuck, that means a lot coming from the fashion police.”

When she was in high school Charles would be at the house on occasion working with her dad and whenever Isobel would go out with friends he would be sitting with her father downstairs chiming in as he taunted her about her choice of dress. Richard would never tell Isobel what she could and couldn’t wear, but always made sure to share his opinion. It became an ongoing joke between the three and even at the age of twenty-two they still acted as if they needed to give her outfits their stamp of approval.

“Hey you know I always have your best interest,” his words trailed as his attention seemed to veer off onto something behind her, when his eyes settled in one general direction he spoke again, “Remember when I used to tell you no boy would ever be good enough for you? Don’t you ever forget it.”

Charles was still looking past her until Richard called him over and he sauntered off without another word. For such a short interaction it left her feeling slightly perturbed, and when she turned to look behind her there was Drew. His face contorted in deep thought with his eyes trained on his father and Chandler standing beside him running his mouth.

His glare was cold, she felt it in the first second his gaze slid to meet her brown eyes then in a blink they warmed. The grey suit on his body did wonders for her imagination especially since he’d been clad in it when he was pressed against her. Isobel has seen Drew in a suit more times than she could remember, but now this was the best he’d ever looked—he looked like a man. His muscles bulged in his sleeves, and his slacks hugged his thighs in the most delicious way that made her want to run her hands up the expanse of them.

Just looking at him brought all there intimate moments to the forefront of her mind, making her dress feel tight on her skin.

Drew felt paralyzed as if his feet were glued to the polished floors. His father’s glare always had the ability to pin him in place from a young age, it was the sharp edge that was always there reminding Drew he was also in the know—that he could sense something was different. And even with his eyes now on the girl who made him feel invincible like he could prove he was good enough, he still fell static.

She watched him for awhile before strutting over in those heels she loved to wear, they made her legs look like they could go on forever. He quickly assessed her, noting the wrinkles he’d caused in the fabric of her dress were no longer corrupting the flow of the material—but the memory stained the dress with the little sounds she made, how she perfectly she fit against his body, and the things she always divulged whenever he touched her.

You just make me want to be bad.

Isobel’s words while they were in that compromising position went straight to his dick. He’d never wanted another woman as much as her, his body fed off her every movement and word, anticipating the moment he could get closer to her—physically and mentally.

Then the unintended implications of her statement settled as it replayed in his head. She was the good girl that they both knew he shouldn’t be touching, the guy who could break her heart again cause that’s what he did with other girls. Drew liked the forbidden aspect of the relationship, he also didn’t mind keeping it a secret between the two, but hearing her verbalize her want for him in that light unsettled him.

Because despite the secrecy, what he had with Isobel was pure and good—that’s what he wanted to remember the start of Isobel and Drew as.

“Chandler go get Isobel a drink.” Drew ordered when Isobel finally stopped in front of them with a smile, though a look of confusion consumed her features when he spoke.

Chandler’s enamored eyes moved away from Isobel’s dazzling appearance, “Dude, she’s not drinking-“

“Get her a water.” He cut his brother off already knowing the excuse he was about to give, squeezing his shoulder tightly, he’d done this as long as he could remember when he wanted Chandler to do something, and it worked for the most part.

He exhaled dramatically before rolling his eyes and walking off, grumbling profanities under his breathe. “Drew I’m not thirsty.” Isobel giggled, she’d always found their brotherly back and forth to be amusing.

“I know I’m just prepping you in case you decide to indulge.” He smiled as he got lost in her beauty, but he really just wanted a moment alone. Her nose scrunched at him poking fun at her low drinking tolerance before she let a smile form on her lips and rolled those beautiful dark eyes.

“Stop teasing me, Drew.” She chided with attitude though her cheeks were slightly pink, he loved when Isobel got shy even when they were growing up. Embarrassing and teasing her until that shy smile and blush bloomed on her face was his guilty pleasure and now it just captivated him more.

That reaction was intimate and vulnerable and he longed to see her in the ways she tried to hide from the world.

Drew made Isobel feel warm, she didn’t distinguish the feeling at first because it was overshadowed by racing hormones, but thinking back on all their moments together that consistent feeling of warmth always remained. In such little time she’d become in tune with his moods and body language—so much so that the slightest shift caught her attention—so when his eyes dimmed a fraction her body buzzed with concern.

“What were you and my dad talking about over there?” He sounded tense as if asking the question was a physical struggle.

And in his eyes, that he vividly expressed himself in despite how much he revealed when he talked, the vibrant blue muted to a duller shade. She felt strange about the brief conversation with Charles in the moment, but it hadn’t made her overthink until she saw the look on Drew’s face. “Nothing out of the usual just being the same old over protective, Chuck—Why?”

She wanted to reach out and just touch him, to place her hand on his arm to distract him from whatever was bothering him—but she couldn’t—she’d insisted on that. Drew and his father had a bumpy relationship when he got older, she’d always viewed their little spats as rudimentary, but in this moment it seemed to be so much more.

“It’s nothing, just wondering why he always has to look like an asshole.” Drew mumbled.

Usually she would scold him for calling his father out of name, but it felt justified—especially after this mood he’d just fallen into. It was little things like this she didn’t realize would change, the internal aspects of herself—it was scary to think about the change inside of her that was happening without her knowledge.

“Isobel, I know you don’t like sparkling, so I went and got you a glass out of the kitchen.” Chandler pushed a cup of water that was sloshing around in a clear glass in her direction, his sudden appearance making the both of them jump, “Also Lora wants you to come over and meet someone.”

Drew watched in silence as Isobel’s eyes visibly lit up in appreciation, and he was instantly jealous he wasn’t the one to do that for her, “You’re such a kiss ass, Chandler.” He insulted as she walked away after giving his little brother a hug that left him swooning.

Part of him envied the way Chandler got to parade his fondness for Isobel so openly and how it was viewed in such an innocent light.

That damn dress could very well be the death of him, but in truth anything she wore could send his eyes boggling, it was her beautiful body that made every single thing she wore sin. Even seeing her in an apron had him on edge just a night ago.

The group of people she approached consisted of Lora, Catherine, and another woman with a younger man who looked to be her son from the similarities he could observe from across the room.

“That’s definitely a set up.” Chandler said smugly while also staring over in her direction as she shook the unknown woman’s hand. Drew’s words caught in his throat the next second when the man who looked about the same age as them pulled Isobel into a hug. Isobel stiffly obliged as he watched one of her arms wrap hesitantly around his torso, but his hands were anything but modest taking the opportunity to place both hands on her waist. “What do you mean?” He asked without looking away but to his relief the hug was short, with Isobel being the first to pull away.

“Come on don’t be delusional, Brother.” Chandler sighed and clasped his hand on his shoulder as if he was consoling him.

But he needed to be delusional in this moment because if he entertained the idea of anyone thinking they could have Isobel in anyway he would march over there and ruin the entire evening. It had always been hard for Drew to accept the idea of her with another man, before it may have been him being protective but the feeling was so familiar he just may have been being unknowingly possessive over her.

Now he wanted every part of her to be his even if it was just merely her attention, he wanted her mom to know that she didn’t have to set her up because she already belonged to him—he just wanted to be a fucking consideration in their heads.

His nails pierced into his palms as his left hand tightened into fists while his other squeezed the base of the glass tumbler resting in it at the sight of the guy leading Isobel over to a vacant table. Mystery man’s movements were labored and slowed like something was impairing him from moving coherently.

They talked for a while and Drew watched, staring bullet holes into the side of the man’s head so intensely he was surprised he couldn’t feel his presence. Isobel obviously did as her eyes locked on his glare like a latch, she gave him an eyebrow raise and soft smile, but it did nothing to alleviate his nerves. All he could manage to do was stare back and purse his lips, harshly clenching his jaw in discontent.

Her courter must have noticed she was no longer paying attention and his wavering eyes tried to follow her line of sight but never landed on him—then Drew’s entire body stiffened, watching him round the table and block off her entire body from him. Anxiety swarmed in his gut at not being able to see her, he was now squeezing his cup so tightly it could break into a thousand tiny shards from the pressure until there was one second Drew couldn’t see her and the next he saw her step back as she forcibly yanked her arm away from his grip.

Within his next intake of a breathe he was storming over to her, “Drew, wait!”

He heard his brother voice, but it was useless Drew was going to get to her no matter what chaos ensued. He had tunnel envision, but before he could close in on the two a hand grabbed his shoulders and held him back. He turned to see his father standing beside him, and in a blur Richard rushing over in long strides to shove the man away from his daughter with just one arm movement.

Isobel immediately attached herself herself to her father as he wrapped a protective arm around her, Drew’s body jerked to go to her at the look of distress on her face but his father’s hold restricted him. He looked over to Charles again but this glance halted any further struggling. His face held an indifferent look, but in there somewhere in those blue eyes he’d passed down to him there was pride and understanding.

And for the first time in years, in his father’s embrace, under his heavy gaze, Drew exhaled.

Table of Contents:

CHAPTER ELEVEN

[demonslayedher]

It didn't seem right to skip over episodes I didn't draw recaps for! Things that ran through my head while watching this episode:

--When making this episode, Ufotable had the advantage of knowing what would come later in the manga. While rewatching it today, I had the advantage of knowing what would come later in the anime.

--By that, I mean the judicious use of Nezuko's lines in Tanjiro's dream in "Kamado Nezuko no Uta" *cough which I was just singing again at karaoke a few hours ago so it's even fresher in my brain cough*

--By that, I also mean the imagery of the field of Nichirin-to, wisteria petals, and dawn-like light as Tanjiro contemplates if he were to become a demon, and how he would trust that someone in the Corp would cut his head off for him --It never gets old how the Shabana siblings are a foil to the Kamado siblings, especially because Tanjiro recognizes how close they were and takes it to heart. I love how Gyutaro took a liking to Tanjiro on account of Tanjiro being laughably pathetic, and by merit of both of them being big brothers. That gives them something to relate to which is totally independent of whether they are demons or humans.

--I love that scene with Gyutaro mocking Tanjiro so much; it's one of those scenes that Ufotable really slowed down and dialed up the drama in, while still making every action make sense and count. One of the most tense conversations in the whole anime, and Gyutaro's glee is palpable. I love that all the names he calls Tanjiro are names that he was called when he was human, and while I don't think Gyutaro is conscious of it, it feels like at some level, he's yelling these things at himself because he's angry with himself for having failed to protect Ume.

--Speaking of, I love how Daki is like, "nuh uh, Oniichan, don't you dare make these two our friends, I hate them" and Gyutaro ignores her because she's an annoying little sister. Such siblings. Also, the way she's just casually sitting totally unphased at the top of the building is the biggest mockery, as it rubs him how useless their hard-earned triumph in the previous episode was. I love how much that theme gets stressed in this series--that is what it means to fight demons!

--Kimetsu logic: don't give us any idea what the characters are doing until after they've already done it. Tanjiro wasn't running away, but instead grabbing a kunai and covering its scent? Oh, ok, cool. Zenitsu had another variation on his one technique and he can only use it twice in one fight? Ok, cool. Inosuke can move his organs and resist poison? You know what, okay. Also, a note of voice acting--I love how heroically deep sleeping Zenitsu's voice is (I'm sure that's how the hero of Legend of Zenitsu always speaks), and how Inosuke is clearly Not Okay.

--Uzui can stop his heart? Sure. Alright. I wonder how much of that was voluntary in the middle of a fight with his little Tsuguko on the line, though--perhaps he also went into that state to prevent himself from bleeding out from his arm? But man, he is no-o-o-o-t looking good, that is truly fighting with desperation, however elated he is to have completed his sheet music technique.

--His wives were watching when he was down on the ground and supposedly dead. ;__;

--Ufotable always has such a challenge to make every Breath technique look amazing and they keep raising the bars. Even though a lot of the height of this battle was just being flashy and yelling at each other, they still had to thing about battle mechanics, like what hits they actually manage to get in on each other (Uzui didn't just lose the eye, he took a nasty hit in the abdomen, too!) and the moment Uzui drops one of his swords. Although a lot of the fighting in this episode is slowed down by character thoughts, if you put it all in sequence, it was very, very quick.

--This entire battle, actually, probably did not take very long. The initial blows exchanged between Tanjiro and Daki took a while, but once it got going with Uzui involved, it was very, very fast-paced. Considering people only started to evacuate during the Daki and Tanjiro battle, and most of them were still there during Nezuko's fight, it was probably very lucky if it was vacated by the time this episode started. We don't know how long Tanjiro was out cold, but hopefully that was enough time for the stragglers to get away before Gyutaro's final attack (but Nezuko saves them, yaaay, I also get to enjoy knowing that Nezuko's fire at the end of this episode because Ufotable made that cool choice too!). Anyway, part of the reason I bring up the speed of this battle is because I am still cross at Ufotable for messing up the timeline by placing this arc in very late autumn, which is should had been in summer, thereby making the night short in the first place--and uncomfortably hot even before you add all the flames! (Added bonus: hot and muggy for the boys when they're in kimono and makeup, because that's funny.)

--THE MARRRRKKKKKK

[andreal831]

So, I know you're a Haylijah shipper, but what you have thought if the show had ever decided to explore Elijah and Cami as a couple? I think that would've been very intriguing and compelling to see. They were among one of my crack ships when I was into TVD/TO. Definitely would've been an interesting dynamic to see play out.

I've gotten to asks about this so I'm going to answer them both here.

I've seen people ship Cami and Elijah, but I'll be honest I haven't given them much thought. I'm all about being a multi-shipper. I love most Elijah ships, even the crack ones. Before considering this, I had always thought Marcel and Cami were my third favorite Cami ship (haymille being the second of course). But I might have to reconsider. I think Cami and Elijah would have been interesting together and I wish we could have seen them interact more. I would definitely have gotten behind this ship. I just love them both so much.

They have a lot of similarities. They both feel responsible for their families and have a lot of guilt for their perceived failures. They both attempt to fall back on logic rather than emotions, although Cami is definitely more emotional mature than our poor, stunted Elijah.

They would have long, intellectual conversations and would challenge each other. Cami would encourage Elijah to go back to school and actually do something with his life and Elijah would encourage Cami to enjoy aspects of life outside of work and school.

The only time we ever see Elijah really open up is with Cami. I wish we could have seen more of Cami being vulnerable with him. We know it happened to an extent as Elijah later tells her he was in her head just as much as she was in his. I wish she would have talked about her brother and uncle or even the trauma she went through of Klaus' compulsion. They both know how it feels to be used by Klaus and lose those they love.

I was trying to think of a downside to this ship and my initial instinct was that they both are too reasonable and need a partner to be a little more combative to deal with them. But then I remembered Cami is that person. I think the reason Haylijah works so well together is because Elijah tempers Hayley's impulses and Hayley is stubborn and aggressive enough to pull Elijah out of his head. Cami is also that person. Hell, she had a harder challenge of doing that with Klaus. At least with Elijah, he's slightly more reasonable than Klaus.

I adore their friendship but I think they would be a solid ship had the show given them a chance.

Thanks for the ask!

[dazzle02]

Buck and Maddie's relationship is one of the most interesting on the show to me personally.

She was nine, she lost her brother and gained a new one and suddenly she's not just an older sister, she's a parent too. She's nine years old and someone's Mother. While not being allowed to properly grieve the brother she just lost. Not even allowed to acknowledge his existence.

And of course she did the best she could, but she was a child raising another child. No parent has all the answers, but especially not a CHILD who never asked to have this put on them. So she of course got things wrong. One that really sticks out is her explanation about their parents worry when Evan falls off his bike. She kinda put the idea in his head that getting hurt is what will get him that love he craves from their parents. And that was NOT her fault. She was 12. And also living in this abusive household. But she was the one that gave him the idea to continue hurting himself to get attention. And there are likely other things that he learned from her that weren't actually healthy, due to her being a child trying to learn about the world herself.

And when she left for Boston, that would definitely feel like a parental abandonment for Evan due to her being the only parental figure he ever really had. But it WASN'T. It was a 19 year old moving out and going to School, which is what a lot of people that age tend to do. But to Evan, it would feel like the only parent he's ever known leaving him. And logically he'd know that's not the case. She's NOT his mother, she's his sister and she's supposed to live her life and she never asked to raise a child at such a young age. He was NOT her responsibility. But emotionally? That's the start of his abandonment issues.

And it's why Maddie can be kinda overbearing with him at times too. (Especially after the lightning strike...) It was ingrained in her from the age of nine that he's her kid and she has to take care of him. So as soon as she sees him suffering in any way, those instincts come back full force. She's gotta take care of him, make sure he's not going to die while she's not looking. AND make it clear she's not leaving him again.

They've had to figure out how to go from the relationship they had as kids where she was more a parent than a sister, to a new one now that they're adults where they're siblings.

And that's gotta be tough. And I would love more of a focus on that really. Just them still kinda adjusting to having to have this new dynamic. Because logically they both are aware that Maddie having to raise Buck was messed up and unfair for them both. But it's also just what's normal to them.

And any time someone comes for Maddie about not being a good sister it makes my blood boil. SHE DOES HER BEST! She was a child raising a child, and she's now an adult who went through abuse for pretty much her entire life! First the neglect from her parents (plus the parentification) and then her marriage to Doug for like 15 years! Of course she's not perfect. And as much as they both love each other, they ARE BOTH part of each others traumas. For Maddie a big trauma for her was having to raise him, and for Buck a big trauma for him was her leaving. And they've managed to work through that for the most part. It's always going to be there, they're both very defining for each of them. For Maddie having to become a parent at such a young age made her feel as though she couldn't be a very good one due to not being a perfect parent AS A CHILD. And for Buck, Maddie leaving was definitely the start of his abandonment issues. And neither of them are at fault for that, but they both have these issues that are directly tied to each other. It all comes back to their parents though. If they'd just done their jobs as parents, things would be so different.

Some of this may not make much sense as it is very hot here right now and I am not thinking right. But you get what I mean, hopefully. 🤣

I would also like to add to Supernatural fans, you can not claim Dean Winchester is just the best brother in the world for raising Sam and then turn around and claim Maddie is a terrible sister. Especially as Dean could be very abusive at times...

[cruyuu]

OK so it wasn't just me who thought that Yuuji and Sukuna went on a hiking date

Im sorry but if Yuuji was a girl (or Sukuna) this would be 100% considered romantic and atp im rolling with love

These two idiots will be the end of me i swear LOL

Hii anon!

You're not alone! That chapter lowkey read like a date and like Yuuji really wanted to change his mind before the end and also get to know him more, learn more about him while baring parts of himself he never bared to anyone else (like sheesh... that's pretty deep). He was hoping for an equal exchange (I bare out my heart, you bare yours) but Sukuna wasn't giving anything (even him recognizing hydrangeas got brushed off as Megumi's memory... why is he so afraid of admitting he likes flowers smh)

It's really funny because with them every single thing works somehow? Like there's a solid basis for every interpertation regarding their relationship. Do you see them as enemies? Do you see them as reluctant friends? Do you see them as soulmates? Do you see them as two parts of a single soul? Do you see them as each other's curse? As each other's salvation? Platonically or romantically? Do you see them as lovers? Do you see them as reincarnated uncle and nephew? Do you see them as ??? aka "I don't even know"? All of those are correct interpretations because the ground work to cover all those explanations exists. That's why they're like crack cocaine to me. They are many things in a single package. Mirrors. Foils. Twins. Equals. Opposites.

Objectively— it's true that Yuuji chased Sukuna around, trapped him (frantically) in a domain so he could parade him around his hometown and get them to hang around (while Sukuna, unnaturally, obliged). It's true that Sukuna, no matter how much he claims he doesn't care, cares about him in a weird way. It's clear because he acts a lot more differently with Yuuji than he does with the rest (plus him being the only human for Sukuna who's different than the rest... you already know what canon said lol. I'll get carried away). It's undeniable that there's something very special between them. That's canon! So seeing chapter 265 as awfully romantic isn't a bad interpretation. Their relationship is just... undefined. They're weird and tied to each other, in a love-hate relationship <3

Now personally, I see them in many different aspects. I love them as a ship, platonically, romantically, as die hard enemies or whatever. Their dynamic is the highlight of jjk for me because nobody does it like them. Their chemistry is off the charts and they match each other even if they're so different from each other. Idk I'm insane.

Im sorry but if Yuuji was a girl (or Sukuna) this would be 100% considered romantic and atp im rolling with love

Well, they are a bit iffy to ship to a lot of ppl because Yuuji's a minor (even tho he lived through hell and back at just fifteen and is more mature than actual adults in this manga) and because of reincarnated incest (uncle and nephew) which is invalid if you apply the logic of reincarnation– Yuuji doesn't have Sukuna's twin brother's soul, after all, (He's a completely different one. Biology doesn't equate soul sharing lol.) so it's not just about heteronomativity. After all, people have latched onto other m/m ships without problems but consider these two not shippable even if canon ties them together again and again and they embody good tropes and their relationship is 101 how you can write some damn good tragedies or redemption arcs (because their dynamic and them as characters just work so well together that it's insane).

As somebody who really doesn't care about all the problems this ship carries (because I see them as characters in a fictional world), all of that is irrelevant to me because I, like you, am rolling around in love and screaming into the void because Gege finally brought them together again. That was all that mattered to me! Now I'm excited for what's to come and am really curious how jjk will end.

They'll be the death of me as well. I'll miss them a lot once jjk ends :( Thank you for the ask!

[joekeeryswife]

u should defo do a fic where r breaks something at steve’s house and she’s apologising and crying and starts panicking & steve just comforts her bc he knows the feeling all too well bc of his dad

ur writing is literally terrific love 💕💕

Picture frame - s.h

hello love, thank you for your request! i hope this is okay, i am not really liking my writing atm. this is really short and i hope that’s okay. feedback is always appreciated and my requests are open- enjoy x (also did i have a mental break down about Steve possibly dying in season 5? yes. a lot of crying has been done)

taglist (feel free to add yourself 🤍):if there is a line through your @ i can’t tag you x @eddieamoremio @johnricharddeacy @theshireisonfire @ssababe @snackycake1975.

it was late and you were tired, so tired that Steve had to put his arm around your waist to keep you up right so you could walk to the door. Steve had taken you on a date which was rare. you were both so busy all the time with working, you both had different schedules and it was hard to figure out a day where you were both free.

luckily this weekend you were both off so a date night was 100% needed. he’d taken you to a restaurant and then to the movies, it was just the cutest date and it suited both of you. you were in Steve’s house more then you were in your own and it was all because of your dad, like Steve, you and your dad didn’t get along.

he was just one of those dads who hated their daughters and loved their sons. you had two older brothers and one younger one and it was like you were the outcast. you got along with your mum though, she was always on your side and stuck up for you when your dad shouted but there wasn’t a lot she could do.

to your dad, anything you did was wrong. he’d shout at you to the point where the neighbours would call the police with a noise complaint because of how loud he was. this is why you loved staying at Steve’s, it was quiet and comforting and you never felt scared being with him.

Steve’s house was dark and you being tired and disorientated you had no idea where Steve was leading you to. Steve knew you were tired. he could tell as soon as you got out of the cinema that the moment your head would hit his pillow you’d be out like a light.

Steve had to go into the kitchen to finish the dishes before his parents came back (which he had absolutely no clue when they would) because the last time they came back unannounced, per usual, he hadn’t cleaned up the house to the ‘family standard’ and was shouted at by both his parents for being too lazy when they went off for different business trips.

he carefully laid you down on the couch and kissed your forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. you didn’t wanna be on the couch, all you wanted to do was be in Steve’s bed with his hoodie and joggers on so you did the only logical thing, got up off of the sofa and started making your way to Steve’s bedroom still half asleep.

the next thing you heard was glass smashing which woke you up out of your sleepy state. you immediately went down to the floor and saw it was a picture of Steve and his parents. the glass on the picture frame had smashed all over the floor and the wooden part had also broken. you instantly felt tears welling up in your eyes.

the last time you had broken something was in your house and you had gotten screamed at for it by your dad. you had absolutely no idea how Steve would react, would he be mad? would he shout at you? so many negative thoughts ran through your mind as you picked up all the big bits of glass and put them in your hand.

Steve heard the smashing and quickly left the dishes to find you on your hands and knees picking up shards of glass with thick tears rolling down your face. Steve could see a little bit of blood on your hand, you’d definitely cut it on the glass. you heard Steve’s footsteps approaching you as you kept picking up the glass but it was difficult with how teary eyed you were.

you looked up and saw Steve towering over you with a confused look on his face. the only thing you knew what to do was apologise and beg for forgiveness. you didn’t want Steve to shout at you but you had broken something of his and surely he was going to be mad. “i’m so sorry Steve. i didn’t even see the picture and i should of been looking and i’ll-”

Steve bent down to your level and lifted his hand to wipe away the tears which were falling down your cheeks quickly. “baby, it’s okay. it’s only a picture frame” he gave you a genuine smile to try and calm you down but it was no use.

your tears were still falling, if Steve wasn’t mad then his parents most definitely would be “but i broke it” Steve had never heard your voice like this. so soft yet so weak. it honestly broke his heart. “by accident. it’s only a picture frame sweetheart. it can be replaced. now, let me see your hands”

he watched as you opened your hands up for him to see and saw some bits of glass in your left hand were covered in blood. he started to pick the glass out of your hands and put them on top of the picture and once all of the glass was out of both of your hands he took your hands into his. “come on, we need to clean you up baby”

you and Steve stood up from the floor and he guided you to the kitchen. Steve started cleaning up your hand and you watched intently as he did so. he was gentle and made sure he didn’t hurt you. “i’m really sorry Steve” he shook his head and lent down to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “stop apologising. it’s honestly fine honey” Steve knew how your dad was and he also knew what it was like for a parent to dislike their kid, he’d lived through it himself.

when he saw you sobbing on the floor like that he knew his only approach should be a soft one. you hadn’t done anything wrong and it didn’t matter. it was a picture frame. Steve always wanted you to feel loved and that’s why he was always so gentle with you when you were upset, he loved you so much and nothing would ever change that, even if you did break another picture frame his feelings would never change.

[nardos-primetime]

You know the casey jr. post makes me wonder again about what was happening with these four in the doomed timeline, if they even made it very far (most of my OCs did not big Fs in chat for them), but maybe that's something you plan to cover at some point.

TW// Suicidal Ideation (kind of), Abuse Between Turtles, Turtle Death

MOST UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S A LONG POST AND I KINDA WENT OFF. I LOWKEY COOKED ON ACCIDENT I THINK.

I was thinking about that as I was drawing too, because together they'd definitely hold more of a chance like the originals. The main thing I wanted for them was villain turtles that still genuinely loved each other after all. But then I realized. I already had an answer to this question. Because they would have to have died at least before Casey's birth and have it be long enough that the og turtles probably wouldn't have brought them up, either out of trauma (because they end up doing some wack shit and causing some wack shit) or because it was so long ago and not relevant. Since my plan is that Casey would not know about the clones at all.

See, I haven't revealed it yet, but the clones do something really conflicting a while before the events of the movie would take place in this universe. In the main timeline this ironically is be the start of their potential to change into more of a Grey area morally, as the main focus of their overall story is that they can't really change until they want to themselves. And even then, they never really become good guys.

But there's already concepts I've had where the result of this action actually splits them apart instead. Donno would be even more engaged in his more violent work, almost happier with it than ever before as they get more and more impractical and violent, or at least he tries to convince himself that he's happier, maybe a part of him is. Rage would become useless as a direct hitman or guard anymore, more likely to just have to oversee those beneath him since he's so oddly incapable of proper violence after things. Lee would become a workaholic to the max, along with his drinking getting a lot worse (somehow possible), he'd get shorter with his brothers, dropping any pretense of care when they need to get something done, "Hey, it's alright, we can do this, we'll get it done together." Becomes "Just fucking DO it! We have shit to do, and I can't be seen with yokai who refuse to prove their own God damn worth!"

Rage would be overall more resigned while somehow the increase in work ethic between Donno and Lee makes their old rivalry come back, just a lot worse now. Donno openly threatens Lee, and when for whatever reason that doesn't work he'll threaten the others. Rage has had a blade put to his throat mid conversation once because Lee wanted Donno to at the very least update the other workers on how to deal with machines when they break. Donno wanted more workers for experimentation in return. Rage was the only bargaining chip that worked, and even then, it took Lee a while to agree to terms.

Mic would take this all the hardest. He'd be desperate to keep everyone together. Time and time again, he's lost family, and they're the only family he's kept through all of it. He'd try and act like everything's fine. His habit of upping his energy and joy for others hits full swing, he pulls the others into hugs, makes little events, nothing works. Until he starts lashing out finally, and Rage is the only one that takes it seriously.

Lee just looks at him how Draxum used to.

Donno laughs in his face and mocks him.

Family, even if it never was the healthiest, is the only constant the clones have. Normally, it would be the only thing keeping some level of humanity and logic between them. So that breaking would be bad. I think this would be where they would stand in the doomed timeline. As soon as the apocalypse does start for them, they'd probably all die separately after officially leaving each other.

I think Mic would've attacked Lee after he realized Lee wasn't planning on doing much to survive. Not deadly, but lashing out until Rage can stop him and afterwards just leaving. Donno also leaves, mentally unwell as ever, insisting that "There's so many new variables and I'm sure Draxum would want me to look into all of it, even if it kills me!" Just to dig a knife into Lee's chest before he goes.

Rage would stay with Lee, and for once, Lee would be the silent one. Rage may be talking but it's quiet, he asks him how he's doing as he carries him around to safety, he gets them food, water, and finally gets violent again when he has to defend the two of them from the krang.

He even asks if they can go to get help when he sees the original turtles in the distance and Lee's wound from Mic is starting to get infected. He even locks eyes with Mikey.

It's the first time Lee speaks in ages, and it's "No." With a swing of his katana to portal them further away than ever before.

After that Lee starts wandering on purpose. He tries to get away while Rage sleeps. Rage starts to not sleep to stop Lee.

But sometimes you pass out after days of pushing yourself.

And sometimes you have to realize your brothers are dead. The world is dead. And at the end of the day, not a single thing you did actually mattered. All you did was cause pain to those you loved.

And you'll wake up. And he won't be there.

And you'll cry like a baby for the first time in years. Calling out for your dad. Your mom. Your brothers. Your voice is so hoarse and you ramble out all the words you never could, "I love you" "I wanna go home" "Please don't do this" "Please no" "I just wanted a family" "Where's my family" "Please don't leave me again" "I can protect you, I just wanted to protect you" "Let me care for you for once"

They each die alone.

Some fighting for nothing.

Some laughing in the face of reality.

Some silently wishing he knew what the whole point was.

Some sobbing for the chances he never had.

[yugiamaneisdead]

Quick post debunking those half-baked opinions I'm seeing on tiktok and Twitter using just Journal 3:

1. "Mabel was selfish/mean/ungrateful/ an awful person etc" let alone the fact she's a 13 yr old girl and also regularly risked her life for him... The point is that they grew and learned. They made mistakes and apologized for it, and they forgave. They moved on. (Something Stan and Ford could never do -- a contrast)

2. "Stanford just used Fiddleford and was the sole reason for the falling out" Ford obviously cared a lot about Fiddleford, but the fact was that they didn't trust each other as much as they should've, and Ford was being manipulated 24/7 (add on sleep deprivation, mind manipulation, etc.) That's the point of the "TRUST NO ONE" message being debunked - there are things you can't do on your own, and you need someone you trust to fall back on. But they didn't have that. (Second pic is of Fiddleford talking to young Blind Ivan, and it's implied this is where he got the memory gun idea, due to his traumatic experience striking a cord in Fiddleford.)

3. "Ford is a bad person, used Stan, etc, all that shit." Ford fucked up. Literally everyone knows that. But after seeing who Stan was, who he really was, Ford was forced to confront the fact that his image of his brother was warped from years and years of being on his own, running for his life, living in constant paranoia, being manipulated into trusting no one but a dream demon, and yes, his ego. He admits it himself. And Stan isn't a perfect person, but the image (in the beginning) of him is inaccurate in the Journal, because it's written from Ford's pov. He hasn't had to look from someone else's POV in years, so he sees Stan's actions as selfish and unreasonable. But later on, he realizes it. He's been living like he's simply better than others due to his intelligence, criticizing everything Stan does, but in the end, he realizes he was wrong, and the brother he loved has been there the whole time, risking his life readily and daily just for a chance to protect his family, giving up everything for them. He realizes he was unjust. And it's not an excuse -- but a reason, one that shouldn't be dumbed down to "Oh he's a bad person". And he recognizes that Stanley has every right to deny his dream after Ford belittled Stan's.

He kept films of when they were kids, and stayed by Stan's side constantly while his memory was returning. Stan is important to him, he was simply in an awful situation that caused him to act awful. Stan is Ford's hero.

4. "Ford abandoned Fiddleford/Fiddleford got a bad ending". Be so fr, even disregarding the credits scene where Fiddleford is with his son, and the scene where Fiddleford says he can start forgiving instead of forgetting what Ford did and put him through, there are full pages of this guy's ramblings abt him. And he remembers such minute details about his friend, such as the rubix cube. He went out of his way to help rebuild Fiddleford's life.

Bonus number 5: "The road trip episode wasn't logical to put into the second season because they were trying to be protected from Bill. " that was explained too! Though it was only in the Journal so I get it yk? But Ford's aim was the protect the kids in case he made a mistake.

Anyways that's all for now, just a bunch of things I noticed ppl forgot or didnt know while reading Journal 3.

[jordisblogg]

never here

note: has there been millions of stories like this? yea. & do i eat em up every time? YES

summary: after being in her lab for so long and neglecting you, you had finally confronted shuri about it, reminiscing now about what had happened to your relationship, not knowing that shuri herself, was doing the same.

pairings: shuri x black!fem!reader

warnings: angst, smoking🍃,fluff & suggestive themes at the end

translations: ndiyacela (please), uthando (love)

——————————————————————————

you sighed as you stared up at the ceiling, your body sprawled out on the bed that you and shuri shared, but what now seems like only you stayed in since shuri started being in her lab more. when you’d wake up, she would be gone. when you went to sleep, she would be gone. you couldn’t even remember the last time you both had sex.

it’s been weeks since you’ve spent actual quality time with her. i mean, yeah, you’d see her every once in a while, when you’d check up on her— when you used to check up on her—forgot to say you’ve stopped doing that since she got upset with you the last time you went in, real upset. you shook your head to yourself as you replayed what she said to you in your mind.

“y/n, i told you. you don’t need to keep coming in here! i don’t need you barging in here every 2 seconds telling me what i need to be doing!”

you couldn’t do anything but look at her like she was stupid then. was she seriously upset over you checking up on her?

“you mad … cause im making sure you eat? stay hydrated? you mad at me over that?! shuri, if i didn’t come in here you’d probably be dead— i mean- you don’t even think about taking care of yourself when you’re in here. you’re lucky i do it for you!”

“i’m not a damn child!”

“shit, coulda fooled me. you get mad when i feed you, you get mad when i when i try to get you to sleep, you get mad when i try to spend time with you! i mean i know you be having stuff to do but could at least give me SOME attention? i haven’t seen you in forever..” it was all flooding out now. everything you’ve been keeping in for those past weeks.

“everything doesn’t revolve around you! i have royal duties and projects to attend to, meaning i can’t have you clinging onto me like a leach all day!”

“a leach?!”

you sat up and rubbed your hands down your face. the more you thought about, the situation the angrier you got. you needed to relax.

you rolled up one of the spare blunts you kept in your room and searched around for a lighter. once finding it in a drawer in your bathroom, you headed outside onto the balcony. flicking the lighter a couple time before the joint lit, you licked your lips before putting it between them, inhaling a good amount and letting it marinate before exhaling.

the whole reason why you two were fighting was fucking stupid to you. but you weren’t going to say anything first. to you, your reasoning was logical.

about 5 minutes passed before you heard your name being called.

“y/n?” you didn’t reply, only putting the half finished blunt between your lips once more because you knew who called you.

shuri appeared beside you, leaning over the ledge with you. you kept looking forward though.

“sthandwa please, will you at least look at me?”

you took your time before you turned your attention over at her. your bored eyes stared into her regret filled ones.

“what shuri”

“i just wanted to talk to you. i want— i need to apologize. please” she begged, taking the blunt and putting it into the nearby ashtray and putting your hands in hers.

she didn’t know if what she was about to say was going to get through to you because of the state that you were in but she was going to try anyway.

“y/n, i can’t even begin to express how sorry i am. it’s just been hard, dealing with my brother and mother’s death. then working on new inventions to protect wakanda while ruling it at the same time. it’s a lot.”

you didn’t speak, letting her know that she was free to continue.

“but that doesn’t excuse how i’ve been treating you, and for that im truly sorry. you’re so precious to me and i shouldn’t have been taking you for granted” she brought your hands up to her face and placed 2 short kisses on your knuckles as she looked at you with those big beautiful eyes. you felt yourself relaxing into her touch, not realizing how touch starved you’ve been for the past few weeks.

“ndiyacela, forgive me”

you couldn’t help but cave. you took your hands out of hers and placed them on her cheeks, bringing her face closer to yours and kissing her softly. it was slow and passionate, shuri could feel all of your love pouring into it. she almost didn’t want to let go.

“i love you shuri, but i can’t help you if you don’t let me in. i wanna be able to help you through your grief. i know it was a whole lot from losing your family but pushing the people who are trying to help you isn’t going to make it better. trust me”

“please mama, don’t shut me out” you whispered before shuri wrapped her arms around your waist and placed her face in the crook of your neck, bringing you impossibly closer to her.

you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as she started littering kisses on your face and you shuddered when you felt her slim, cold hands reach under your hoodie and rub over your skin.

“come on, you blowing my high!” you giggled

“ just let me make up for the lost time baby..” she says, lifting her face from yours and trailing her way down your neck.

a/n: i got an obsession with the reader calling shuri mama/ma

[ipsen]

Twisted Wound

For @exulzae for the @tgpairup event! They wanted AyaKane, and I did my best! Enjoy :]

Aogiri was supposed to be colder than Anteiku.

Kaneki expected that much; the only warmth provided in Yamori’s playroom had been the sweat from his own brow, the blood spilling from his fingers and toes, and the heaving breath of the man himself as he grappled with killing Kaneki on the spot. A foolish mistake, in hindsight— now he was going to be another weapon of the Doves, like so many before him.

As a replacement, Kaneki assumed many of his responsibilities— chief among them being convening with the other executives.

All were cold in their own way— Noro was tall and silent, roaming the halls like a zombie. Accompanying him at all times was Eto, a childish— thus dangerous— mystery who always seemed to be watching Kaneki when he wasn’t looking. There was Naki, the new White Suits leader, who was overly emotional and unstable. And then Tatara always glared at Kaneki when he spoke up, as though he knew Kaneki’s true purpose, despite that being impossible.

In a way, it was good. Kaneki truly felt nothing towards these ghouls— these monsters— and counted to himself the days until their demise. He would consume them once they became useless, and he would climb on their corpses to the pinnacle of strength, upon which he would finally be able to protect what mattered to him.

But then there was Ayato. Touka’s younger brother, and a roaring fire amidst the cold. He was a lot like his sister, much as he likely didn’t want to admit: strong-willed, and a face full of swears and glares for anyone disagreeable. It should be easy to hate someone like that; those were the types that pushed people away and ended up all alone because of it.

If that were true, then it must have been the burden of nostalgia on Kaneki’s shoulders, because he found himself hesitating. Bringing down Aogiri meant confronting Ayato again, meant grappling with the choice he’d made in the 11th ward. It meant questioning his actions in that checkerboarded room, and rendering them meaningless.

And then it happened. Kaneki hadn’t been sent out to exterminate ghouls for a while, and he felt the pangs of hunger clawing at the walls of his stomach. The monster inside him craved sustenance, but his sense of justice and heroism demanded only one type of food— villains. And yet, the powers that be demanded he bide his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. He had to feign loyalty to Aogiri lest they catch onto his plan, and a true predator knew when to keep his claws beneath his cloak.

In a show of what must have been amused pity, Eto had suggested to Tatara that Kaneki accompany Ayato’s squad to a 15th ward raid. However, there were no ghouls, like Kaneki anticipated— they were going to attack a Dove’s nest.

Humans.

He knew this day would come eventually; it was just the consequence of working with ghouls. Humans would be attacked. Humans would be killed. But Kaneki, a former human, hunting his old kind— it stilled him. He knew how fragile they could be, how much easier they crumbled compared to ghouls. That was what Yamori had taught him.

Yet, when Ayato recklessly charged ahead and got stabbed by two hooks of a strange quinque, Kaneki almost thought he was just another human. The way Ayato crumbled when his ribs shattered like glass— Kaneki acted before he realized it. His kagune, grafted onto him like a broken branch onto a foreign tree, spilled forth wilder than anything before.

Two appendages around Ayato, and two through the Dove that did it.

Blood, human blood, spilled over Kaneki’s implanted organ, and the intoxicating smell of raw meat. He had always resisted the temptation, and the heat of battle always made it difficult. But Ayato needed attention now, and Kaneki used that to push him forward.

He ran as fast and as far as he could, far behind the front lines. It went against all of his logic, all of his choices, all of his resolve. If he had woven a tapestry in which he styled himself the hero, this slashed a knife through it and turned it into scraps on the floor.

He could feel the confusion from the others; the Eyepatch hadn’t established a habit of retreating, and Ayato hadn’t established a habit of being protected. But battle was battle, and there wasn’t enough time to consider it.

A few buildings later, once the screams of combat were silent memories, Ayato stirred. “Shit…” he muttered. “Take me back, half-ass.”

“You’re injured.”

“Yeah, obviously!” As he said it, he hissed in pain. “Shit…! Look, if you let me feed, I won’t be injured!”

“How will you feed if you can barely stand?” Kaneki countered.

“You don’t know shit, half-ass. I need to eat.”

“You need rest. I’ll figure something out.”

“And what do you know about what I need, huh?!” With a forceful shove, Ayato tumbled out of Kaneki’s grip and clambered to his feet. He clutched his wound, but neither his words nor his scowl were any less vicious for it. “Prancin’ about and actin’ like you’re better than anyone, just cuz you beat Yamori or whatever…!”

Kaneki stood at a distance, watching Ayato struggle with the injury he was ignoring. He’d been observing Ayato’s feeding habits, and it was clear he didn’t cannibalize. He was floundering about in the world of ghouls, yet he refused to steal from them. That was what they were built to do, after all. But if he didn’t eat something soon, then—

“Why’re you even here, anyway?” There was a wall for Ayato to sink down against. “You kill shitty Doves, but you only eat when it’s other ghouls… It’s stupid; they taste disgusting.”

Kaneki said nothing. It was true, to an extent, but there was a limit to one’s base instincts. He had to overcome them, ascend past the sheep and become a shepherd, so that he might pick the ones most suitable for slaughter.

“You ain’t in Fantasy Caféland anymore,” Ayato continued. “We’re ghouls, Eyepatch. We eat humans, not each other.”

Kaneki stepped toward him, deciding to entertain the boy. “If you’re picky about what you eat, you’ll never become strong; those you care about will slip through your fingers like sand.”

“And who said I cared about anyone?” Ayato fired back. “I only need me, myself, and I… That’s how ghouls operate, you bastard. We can only count on ourselves.”

“What about Touka, then?” Kaneki squatted down to his level.

He clicked his tongue. “What about her?”

“You could have killed her back in Anteiku or in the 11th ward, yet you didn’t. You let her live.”

When Ayato didn’t respond, Kaneki knew he hit the nail on the head.

“You’re protecting someone, just like I am. Killing Doves en masse won’t solve anything; battle experience only gets you so far. You must be able to expand your limits, too. And to do that, you must eat. You must feed.”

He grabbed Ayato by the shirt collar.

“Like this.”

In one swift motion, he lunged forth and sunk his teeth into Ayato’s shoulder. Ayato hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?!” he yelled.

“Teaching you a lesson.” Kaneki stood up, wiping the blood off his mouth. The taste was still the same, like spoiled goods that no chef could salvage. It was the foulest trash one could consume. “You said you needed to eat, and if you don’t, you’ll die. So show me your resolve.”

Ayato clutched his shoulder, glaring. “Bastard…”

“Calling me names won’t fill your belly.” Kaneki balled up his fists and shifted into a fighting stance. “Now feed, Kirishima.”

“I’ll do more than that…” Ayato struggled to his feet, crouching low. He suddenly smirked. “I’ll wipe the goddamn floor with your fucking guts.”

Kaneki didn’t notice his own smirk. “Come and try.”

Ayato lunged first, driven by hunger and newfound frustration. Kaneki didn’t expect the sudden speed, and felt Ayato’s nails scrape his cheek as he dodged to the side. He aimed a fist at Ayato’s cheek, but the boy turned, and his kagune, though shrunken by lack of sustenance, burst out of his open back, lining Kaneki’s hand and arm with small shards.

Kaneki jumped back to try and reorient himself, but he underestimated a ghoul’s hunger. He’d never been on the receiving end like this; Ayato chased him down and grabbed him by the arm, his fingernails sinking into the flesh so as to not let go. Kaneki winced slightly at the sensation, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was when Ayato’s teeth sank into Kaneki’s shoulder, far deeper than expected. It was as if he wanted the wound to never heal, and wanted to leave lasting proof that it was by his power that Kaneki suffered it. Ayato’s power, and no one else’s, simultaneously claiming victory and possession both.

Yet, for some reason, it was a familiar— thus comforting— sensation. Not familiar in the sense that Kaneki had been bitten like this, but familiar in the way that he had been held with the same intent before. The way Ayato’s hands clung to his shirt and arm, combined with the searing pain of his flesh being torn— it was like being held in both affection and contempt, love and disgust.

But were those not two sides of the same coin? By coveting that which we hate, desiring that which we despise, do we not also love them? Crave them? Need them?

Despite himself, Kaneki felt himself clinging to the sensation as Ayato fed on him, took from him. He clung to it like it was the only thing that mattered, far beyond kings or weeds or bad coffee beans; this current, familiar, foreign moment was all that mattered.

He enjoyed it.

He despised it.

Ayato’s hair was a shaggy, bloody mess, unkempt and uncared for. He needed to wash it, Kaneki thought. Did he even know how to wash it? Was that something a ghoul like him, so entrenched in that world, knew how to do? Would Kaneki have to—

“You taste weird,” Ayato said, getting off and wiping the blood dripping from his mouth.

Kaneki stayed still on the floor, bordering on rigid. “So I’ve been told,” he responded, feeling his shoulder struggle to put itself back together. “You were hungry.”

“N-No shit I was hungry!” Ayato shouted back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. There was a new color in his cheeks: a reddish and healthy hue. “Still… Still am…”

And that was why Kaneki continued to hesitate. Ayato, every so often, displayed behavior that was so much more… human than the other executives. Unlike Tatara, Eto, Noro, or even Naki, Ayato knew things. Knew the joy of peace, the sorrow of loss, and the painstaking existence of never having both as a ghoul.

However, Kaneki simply nodded, stowing away such thoughts for his greater purpose. “The raid must be over by now.”

“Hmph, no thanks to you.” Ayato rolled his shoulders. “The others are probably lookin’ for us. C’mon.”

Kaneki rolled to his feet, calming himself. He was not here to… frolic with the company he kept now; he was on a mission, and not even Ayato would stand in his way. “Alright.”

Despite that, Kaneki stared at his new wound, surrounded by torn fabric. It was closing, as it always did, but something was different. Instead of a bare patch of skin, Kaneki saw a scar in the shape of Ayato’s teeth. Almost like a brand, marking one’s territory, one’s property.

What loathsome pleasure he felt.